I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.
Confidence……Sexual confidence
Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.
Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.
Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.
The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?
Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.
With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.
Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.
Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.
I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.
WHY?
I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.
That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.
Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.
The was it.
No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.
Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.
With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.
This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.
Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.
Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.
Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?
The answer…….
CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR.
I started discovering who I was in 8th grade. I was among friends who were discovering their sexuality too so I came out to them first and they were really supportive. My parents found out that year and yelled at me for it. Told me it was a faze and that if I found god I would be “healed” and wouldn’t feel this way anymore. I was really taken back by that because I thought that when my family told me that they love me unconditionally that they would love every part of me. But they didn’t, and still don’t. I fell into a deep depression that to be honest am still struggling to come out of all these years later. I put a mask on and pretended to be someone I wasn’t. I hated that version of me to the point that I was harming myself. I thought that if my own parents couldn’t love me for me then how could I or anybody else. But because of the friends I had and the support they gave me I slowly began to accept myself. And even though I am not exactly out and proud around my family I am out and proud on social media. Even though it is a silly thing….I am typically the happiest when I make tiktok videos because I get to just be myself. And that is the best feeling in the world!
Also if you want to….. idk…. maybe
I always felt like I didn’t fit in with the girls I went to school with. I grew up in a hard-believing traditional Christian household, and one didn’t talk about things of sexuality that didn’t fit in that vein. So purity culture was huge, and total abstinence was expected no matter who you loved outside marriage. So I pushed it down and tried to ignore it. I was attracted to different genders and I felt wrong trying to be with people I was attracted to and had to deal with the guilt of that attraction as well as the worry of violating purity culture in general. I guess subconsciously I decided that since I could be with who I wanted, I would not be with anyone.(I know- it sounds wrong to me now too!)
Fast forward literally decades to 2020- I was terrified of coming out to my family, in particular to my Mom, who was the strongest Christian influence in the family. She passed unexpectedly in 2020, and in my processing grief, I decided it was way past time for me to live my truth. I had denied myself my true being too long. I decided that I was tired of living a lie and had moved away from the many of the strict “traditional” Christian beliefs of my childhood and started looking for myself. It was time to come out. I spent weeks thinking & worrying about it, and one day, the timing made itself right- I came out as queer.
My Family’s response: “We just assumed you were.”
I couldn’t believe that I spent so many, many years living outside my genuine self and my family wasn’t really an obstacle (some other, distant relatives are not on board, but I’ve never interacted much with them) as much as I had made them to be in my head. I know this isn’t likely a common experience and I am so proud of my family and the support they’ve given since, and the work we have put in to build communication on a new domain.
I am learning and growing, since I feel like a sort of oddity being a middle-aged “baby gay”, but I’m wading into a life that I have long denied myself. I’m thrilled, I’m scared, I happy, I’m nervous, I’m certain, but mostly, I’m free and I’m out!
I think I always knew I was queer. However, when I was 12 I fell in love for the first time, just like you see straight kids do… and it was so beautiful, so truthful and so right. I never once though it was a bad thing, it was all so natural, so pure… And I didn’t even know what homossexuality was, I just knew I liked that girl so much it made my stomach hurt, in a wonderful way, so never questioned myself and I always fully accepted who I was because, at age of 12, we don’t really understand what prejudice and homophobia was and why people would think our love was wrong.
But then I started to grow and realized that society abhor who I was and it was when I started being untruthful with myself and hide the Real me for years… that felt like centuries.
At that time I believe I was bisexual, so I dated a few guys, but I never felt anything and never understood why… if I was bisexual shouldn’t I be also attracted to people of the opposite sex?!
As the years went by, the doubt inside of me grow stronger, it was like I was suppressing the answer unconsciously.
And then, in 2018, my mom found out about me, she had read the messages my (ex) girlfriend and I shared and I had never felt so disrespected in my life. She seemed so okay with who I was, but at the same time I knew she was lying and only trying to make me feel safe.
However, the past year we struggled a lot, she didn’t accept my True Self, she accepted all the parts of me BUT one. For a year my heart was breaking and breaking, in times I could even hear my heart shattering inside of me… and I still don’t feel like she fully accepts me, she keeps denying that part of me.
Nevertheless, we became closer this year and, in a way, I am grateful for that year of suffering and questioning because it forced me to look beyond the surface. I had to engage in some introspection and I finally had the courage to truly accept who I am. I finally had the courage to admit I wasn’t attracted to men at all and that it was okay.
Despite all the hate and prejudice that the world insists on throwing at us. I am really proud of who I am and I will walk in this world with my head held high because there is nothing wrong with being my unapologetic self.
Growing up in England I was abused by my grandma and mum. I don’t remember a time in my early childhood when I wasn’t looking outside the family for a “mother figure”. Growing up my dad told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, just not gay.
I came to America at 20 and went through 9.5 years of counselling to free myself from my past. For a long time I had wondered if I was gay or still just looking for a mother figure like I had in childhood. At the end of years of counselling and with my past behind me, I was able to say definitively: I am gay!
Then I had to tell my homophobic dad…he and my step-mum were stopping in LA for a few days on their way back to the UK from NZ. I went to my dad’s hotel and asked if I could speak to him alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick to my stomach. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to him for days. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I was very, very, VERY happily gay, then gave the biggest smile I could muster. He stared at me and started crying. I told him everything would be okay. He drank 5 PINTS of gin and tonic at the bar that night, and the next night.
He returned to England and I didn’t hear from him for 6 weeks. Then I got a 9 page, hand written letter in the mail from him. He wrote that I had crushed his dreams of me marrying a strapping American man who I would have kids with that would grow up to play rugby for England. My 3 1/2 year old nephew had died earlier that year and my dad compared me coming out to the death of his only grandson. It was devastating beyond words.
That was 12 years ago. 7 years ago I started watching “The Fosters” and 4 years ago I started watching “Wynonna Earp”. Both had positive queer representation with no strings attached. I realised through watching these shows that any lingering elements of self hatred were not mine, they were imposed feelings from others that I had taken on as my own.
I knew then that I could only be responsible for my personal truth and living my life in the most authentic way, no matter what. I would lead by example, I had NOTHING to be ashamed of.
I boldly introduced my dad to my then-girlfriend and he was amazingly accepting and positive. He could finally see how happy I was and after all I went through growing up, he knew I deserved happiness.
Today my dad has come full circle. Not only does he embrace who I am and is so proud of me for fighting so hard for the life I have, he also told me at my sister’s wedding that when the time comes, he would want to walk me down the aisle too.
Coming out wasn’t easy, but not being true to who I am was a WHOLE lot harder. I am happier with who I am now more than at any other time in my life!
June 13, 2020 9:35 p.m. “I’m gay”. I came out to half of my family in a text. I don’t believe there is or ever was a god but I do believe people can be cruel and unfair. I live in a pretty small town in Illinois mostly everyone is religious. But if there is a higher power then how come we don’t get a say in how we want to live our lives. Or if you are gay you go to hell but you get to chose who you love. Then how come you don’t get to tell them you love them. I say people are cruel because I am a thirteen year old female and I fear that people wouldn’t understand me because of who I chose to love. When I was 11 years old I panicked because I liked one of the girls in my class. I still get butterflies when I talk to her. She makes me laugh and she challenges me which I love.To quote a movie” Love is messy and horrible and selfish… and bold. It’s not finding your perfect half. It’s the trying and reaching and failing.” Life sucks but when we find someone who makes it suck just 0.0000000000000001 % less why can’t we decide to love them whoever they are or however they present themselves. You should not have to lie to make other people happy. You should be able to tell whomever you want whenever you want whatever. So, this is my story, well the true beginning anyways, so what’s your. And if you want you can share it. I am gay. I am bisexual. I am pan sexual. I am what ever I say I am. Nobody gets to say differently.
I guess I’ve always known that I’m queer. When all the girls in my class started to care about getting attention from the boys, I only wanted to play soccer. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Then, around sixteen, I finally understood the other girls. Only – I wasn’t trying to woo the boys, I wanted attention from the girls. Fast forward a year later, I finally told my mom. She hugged me and said she didn’t care, I could love whoever I wanted. After that I gradually told the rest of my family and my friends, and now I live happily with the rainbow flag flying high outside my house!
When I was around 5 years old I had my first crush/love and her name was Dolly Parton. I thought she was really pretty and a good singer. I used to make believe I was marrying her (If you ever read this, Carl Dean, I hope you find it funny!). I grew up playing with my boy cousins when they weren’t being jerks. I liked running around outside in the dirt. I didn’t like wearing dresses or anything remotely “girly.”
Boys weren’t really on my radar and somewhere along the way I was taught that girls liking girls or boys liking boys was gay and therefore gross and wrong. I got into Tae Kwon Do and was the first girl in my school so obviously I was noticed. During those years I began wanting to having a boyfriend because the thought of holding hands with someone was nice. But sometime in high school I began thinking about girls. Of course I would never tell anyone. It was gross and wrong. But why did I keep thinking about it? Did I have a deathwish?
My first serious boyfriend was Glenn. I was 17 and he was 22. Hold on. Let that sink in for a moment. Now I’ll tell you that this was 1997 when the internet was pretty new and the idea of meeting people from online chatrooms was insane. Yet here this man came from New England to see me and we hit it off. I still can’t believe my parents were okay with it. I guess times were different then. At some point I told Glenn that I sometimes thought about girls. But I wasn’t gay. I still wasn’t gay even when a really pretty girl sent me a pic of herself in her bra. I was really confused and told myself it was bad.
After Glenn I had a bit of a break before the next boyfriend. I was a sophomore in college and pledged a sorority and started making new friends. I fell for one of my sisters. Her name was Tammy and she was so adorable and innocent. I remember one night as I was leaving her suite after a visit she gave me a hug and I just closed my eyes and thought, ‘This is perfect.’ I confided in a few friends that knew how to keep a secret and eventually told Tammy. She said she could love me as a friend and a sister. I was 99% sure it would go nowhere but there was that 1% of hope. I left for the summer, came back in the fall, and then not long after began seeing Billy who I also met online but this time on a dating website.
Initially I looked at Billy’s profile and passed because he was 32 and I was 20. But then he sent me a message so I figured I’d reply and it just went from there. It turned out he went to my college and lived just outside of the town. We were together for three years. I think it lasted that long because he was easy. But I didn’t just want to stick around in my college town when there were other things to experience. Billy was set in his ways and when I realized he would never go with me no matter what, my depression was truly kickstarted. If you’ve ever seen the video for the song “Turn Down For What” then you’ll know what I mean about crashing through the floor.
Next came Erick and that was an exercise in futility but I didn’t want to see it. He would say he loved me but didn’t want a relationship at the moment. Depression and love self-esteem make an option like Erick seem fine because you think you don’t deserve better. We had fun times like online gaming. He introduced me to a couple of games that I would play over the next several years. It was in one of those games that I met the gamechanger in the form of a woman named Deidra.
Deidra was part of a group I would chat with on IRC (Is that even still a thing?) and sometimes hang out in-game with. She openly flirted with me and at first I really did not know how to process it. It was just something I had never seen or experienced. I started crushing on her and eventually I said to myself, “Heather, you need to stop lying to yourself. You are definitely into women.” Deidra was one of the first people I told. Erick was still around and I went to visit him once. But during the whole trip there, all I could think about was Deidra. Erick ended up cutting me loose when I point blank asked if there was any chance of us being together. That was the last time I was ever involved in some fashion with a man. I was 25 years old and began identifying as bisexual.
For the next while I began looking for movies, stories, anything about women loving women. An “L Word” fansite practically saved my life one night when I was feeling so low that I was scared of what I might do. I got involved in that fandom and was able to connect with other women like me and some became friends I still talk to today.
Eventually I began wondering if I even really liked men. I can’t say I didn’t love the men from my past because that would be lying. But then when I really thought about it, whenever I thought of the future, I didn’t see a man beside me. Instead I saw a woman. Today I identify as gay or lesbian and sometimes queer. The idea of being with a man is just not appealing to me anymore.
As of the end of this story I am 41 and have had a couple of girlfriends. Donna* (name changed as she is not out that I know of) I met through the “Wentworth” fandom a few years ago. That didn’t last very long due to distance and other factors. Then there was Cindy* (another changed name but they know who they are) who I met through the “Wynonna Earp” fandom. Even though it didn’t work out they are still a very dear friend of mine. As for who’s next, well, I have no idea. I’ll just have to wait and see.
Oh, and in case you were wondering what the number 9 has to do with anything, it’s my favorite number. It’s almost a perfect 10 but still has some areas to improve upon.
