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I am bisexual but when I came out of the closet with my parents they didn’t accept it so I had to tell them to “change” but luckily I have people who love me and who support me no matter who I am and encourage me to never stop being who I am.
I knew I was different than my family. I had boyfriends in the past but it never last. I knew I was attractive to both men & women, I don’t label myself because it doesn’t matter about the gender. It just matter about the person. I only told a few of my close friends. And I am not out of the closet yet. My family won’t understand. And I can’t really tell them but I know my family would probably disown me. It’s kind of scary to go through this alone. I been through stuff in the past that I haven’t really got over. It’s hard to move on or overcome when you been rape in the past by two different men. I didn’t get therapy for it. It’s something that changes me even more. I am attractive to men & women but more of women. And I haven’t even been with a girl before, I don’t even know what it’s like kissing a girl. I want my story to be heard!! ~M
I knew I was attracted to people other than boys when I was around 7/8 years old. It was difficult to understand, but thankfully I have supportive family/friends who accept me for who I am. I first told my older sister and she explained to me that it was ok to love who I wanted to. I slowly came out to my parents and although they worried about the struggles I’d face later on in life, they only want me to be happy. I’ve slowly come out to friends new and old and have been met mostly with open arms. Coming out never really stops, but for me, the fear of rejection has subsided. Now, being 18, I’ve developed feelings for many a person, not limited to any gender. I’m proud to be who I am and wouldn’t change it for the world.
When I was 5 I started realising I didn’t really fit in with the girls who I was forced into groups with. I was more interested in playing football than dancing and I had a significant amount more friends who were boys than friends who were girls. The boys saw me as one of them and if someone said that I couldn’t do anything because I’m “a girl” they would defend me and say that I’m different. They were right, I am different.
I’m different but my differences make me unique. My gender dysphoria went unnoticed to me until I was 10, around the same time I started puberty. I started hating the body I was in and wished I could be more like the boys who I played football with. My gender dysphoria was manageable until I was 15.
As soon as I turned 15 I had reached my breaking point. I began researching what this awful feeling of hatred I had towards my body was and almost every article I read and every video I watched told me it was the same thing: gender dysphoria. After that I did more research and discovered what it means to be transgender. I came to the conclusion that I’m trans and that I should probably create a list of names for myself to try out.
By January 2017 I decided to tell my friends about my identity and my new name. At that point, I was identifying as non-binary. One friend knew about what it means to be non-binary so was incredibly supportive and the rest of my friends just wanted what was best for me. They used my new name and my preferred pronouns and it was going really well until a few months later when I realised that I’m actually FtM (female to male) transgender.
After I told people I was changing my preferred name again and was using new pronouns some people stopped talking to me which made me feel even more hatred towards myself. I soon discovered that coming out as trans in a Catholic school was a terrible idea (well for me at least). Someone who had stopped talking to me because of my new identity told one of my bullies about my identity and it caused his bullying to escalate. I soon began regretting coming out.
One day during our biology lesson we were talking about reproduction and my bully asked how same sex couples reproduce. I answered him in a clear and concise way that same sex couples can use IVF or surrogacy in order to reproduce. At this point he turned around and said “oh, is that how you trans freaks do it to?” before pushing a desk towards me causing me to be trapped between two desks. My teacher ran over to help and asked him to leave the classroom immediately. I was ushered off with some of my friends to go sit in an empty art classroom whilst we were waiting for the school nurse to come and check me over. Luckily I was only bruised and nothing worse had happened. He was suspended for two weeks for bullying and inappropriate conduct (apparently it would have been much longer if I’d have actually admitted to being trans but at that point I was too scared to come out to teachers).
Flash forward to now (September 2020) and I’m about to start my second year of university. I still haven’t come out to my parents but I’m getting there. My online friends help a lot with reassuring me that I’ve always got a chosen family and that I look masculine enough. I’m now at ease with my labels of transgender and pansexual (an identity discovery I made only a few months ago).
While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.
Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.
Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.
The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.
And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.
I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.
After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.
Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.
I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”
Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”
Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.
When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.
So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE.
I’m 26 years old and came out to a few select close friends when I was 17 (as Bi), then Pan, then Lesbian finally on 10Sept2015. I joined the Air Force (as a medic) at 18, and that was lift off for my Queerness and coming to terms with my authenticity and self love. When I was 8 my brother committed suicide (he was 16). It has been a struggle to come to terms with his loss over the years. I struggled with my own mental health over time, because of that trauma. Having gone through such a big loss/traumatic event at a young age has given an unfortunate advantage over the years. I’ve learned how to get through the stages of grief over the years in different and many ways. With positive and negative coping mechanisms. In doing so I have been very fortunate to notice the signs and vibes of depression and suicidal ideations within people, and I tell them my story. I’ve noticed that when I tell my story people tend to confide their own stories to me. In turn I have helped many people. Nothing feels better than a person telling me that I changed/saved their life by just listening and being there. Don’t get me wrong it has occasionally taken a small toll on my own psychie, but it also has grown it. Helping others has given me a level of self understanding and love for myself and for other humans. My mental armor has grown exponentially. I can only hope that strangers read this and take these words of wisdom from me… I promise it gets better. It will sometimes get worse before it gets better. There is always a way out. Be the person that your younger self needed. Surround yourself with people that listen and understand. Love is everywhere. Suicide is NOT the answer. It is never too late to get help. YOU ARE LOVED. I LOVE YOU! I am here if you EVER need a stranger to just talk to.
I forced myself to have a crush on a boy because everyone else had one so that’s what I did. Little did I know that I was crushing on girls that were older than me and I didn’t even know it. I thought it was normal to feel that way so I never thought anything of it. I was always nervous and my face would always fluster because I was attracted to them. I remember when I was in 7th grade someone had asked me what my sexuality was and at that time I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t even know what gays and lesbians or even being bi was. So when I told them I was bi I didn’t really know what it meant so I just stuck with it. But a few days after that they ended up telling my whole class that I was bi. Every second that I had I denied everything because I was so scared of what people would think about me or if they would treat me differently. I was in a catholic school so it was never normal or shown so I denied every second of it. Until I moved schools and I saw diversity and I found out what sexuality was. That’s when I actually noticed that I was paying more attention to the girls rather than the boys. I made up what I thought were real crushes with boys and then I started realize that I liked girls the entire time. But of course I was always in denial of it. I even went online to take the ‘am I gay quiz’ I took so many of them, every single one of them came out positive. Even after all that I denied it I didn’t want anything to do with it because I was scared of it.
I remember one day my mom was taking me to soccer practice and she ended up talking to me about labels. And she started explaining to me about how my older sister thought that she was gay and that putting labels on things is what makes it become real. It sounded like my mom knew about me and basically told me I was full of crap for thinking the way I was even though I hadn’t told her anything about me. At this time I had a girlfriend and everything so I just brushed that conversation off. But but it made me feel insecure a little bit. It made me feel like I was stupid for falling for a girl and that it was fake like it was child’s play. So I hid my relationship the best way I could publicly and at home. I never really came out to my mom but now I’m growing into it and finally accepting myself for who I am. And it makes me shine brightly and especially to know that I wasn’t alone in this, that other people had been going through the same thing I was or am.
I don’t know how to start but I must say that I’ve had a lot of boyfriends back then. I like boys, I like the way they court me, gives me flowers, chocolates, and stuff like every guys that I’ve dated… You know, they’re really in love with me, and they care about me.
This is not me being conceited, but this is me telling the truth. I love dating boys, yet I feel like I’m loathing about them–fed up and eating the same food every single day. I always think that there’s something wrong with me for they always give what I deserve, what I want, and what I need, but I’m always stuck of thinking that if I get attached, they’re just gonna leave me after all. Well, it’s for me to find outttttt, though I used to be a man a hater…
When I was young, I told myself that I’m just gonna play with boys and their shit. Why? Coz’ my childhood is kinda rough. I remember, I didn’t get the chance to be with my parents that much. My mom got pregnant with a very young age, and she needs to work far from us, while my dad is a drunken master. Lol! Like he always come home drunk as fuck with another woman. Hahaha! Things didn’t work out for them, so I guess, you know where I’m coming from? Jeez! This is so emotional. Hahaha!
Going back to dating boys, I always think that they’re all the same, like if they get what they want they’ll left you hanging. I was wrong, coz’ actually good guys exist, and I was very lucky to have them but, yah know something is quite missing. I really felt their love for me sadly, I don’t have that much love to offer them, that’s why I tend to date a lot of boys, like collecting toys. It’s like a routine man! My life is in black and white, and I feel so sorry from the bottom of my heart. I know there’s something wrong with me, for I think I am seeking the love that I really want and I really need, maybe they are not for me, or I’m not just into guys? I’m just in denial? I don’t fucking know what to do!
What is the feeling of being in love?
What is the feeling of being in love with the person who loves you back?
FUCK!
I’m gonna tell you this, IT’S FUCKING AMAZING!!!
Here it goes…
I met this girl in 2016, we’re schoolmates. One time she needs to survey for a subject and that’s the time we met. I saw her staring at me for a plenty of times, it’s like every time I check on her she’s there, literally staring at me as if she’s drooling. Lol! After several days, she added me on Facebook and told myself, I remember this girl… So, I accepted her request and boommm! We can’t stop exchanging messages, sending voice clips, pictures like I never felt this excitement and butterflies in my tummy before.
It felt so different, however it feels really really good. Legit man! Knowing that we’re just talking. At first I’m scared coz’ it feels new to me, everything is new to me– you know I’m so confused for the reason that we live in a world where we should be what people wants us to be. We should choose and fit in what we think is right and we tend to deprive and disregard happiness. In short, we’re scared of being judged– I feel like I’m in a war and I got no bullet and gun to survive. I’m also afraid of what my family, friends, and people would think if I told them about it. Good thing I’m a very spontaneous person and I don’t care what people will say, again (I’m scared and afraid but I know this will be worth it) so I risked, (FUCK JUDGEMENTS). People are shocked of me dating a girl but, I told myself I’ll just get used to it.
People are judging me and they keep on telling me whom I should date, and that this kind of relationship is bad, but you know what? I always show them kindness. These people didn’t know that this girl changed me on how I prospect life, and made me realize a lot of things. She helped me with everything, she’s been there supporting me through my ups and downs when no one else would. She’s been very patient and persistent with me because I am a messy and impulsive person. She loved me so much. She loved me at my worst, and best, and embraced me for who I really am. I must be very blessed to have someone like her in my life, and as time goes by my feelings are getting deeper and deeper. I have never been this comfortable having her around. I’m enjoying her company, never loathe, she makes me laugh, smile, she keeps me warmth. Every day is a different day when I’m with her, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love her. I love her so much.
Our love story is not perfect, in fact she knows that I’m scared, but she guided me in every way. We fought and faced a lot of judgments and problems, but we managed to conquer all of it by just supporting and being there for each other. All those black and white has changed with a lot of colors– colorful, brilliant, and glowing I must say. I never thought that she would make a huge impact in my life and will make me become the better version of myself.
I didn’t regret a thing for choosing her and being with her.
I never thought that she would make a huge impact in my life and will make me become the better version of myself.
We share a love that no one will ever understand, except if you know that happiness is what matters in life then it’s the right thing to do. This is so cheezyy!
I’ve also contemplated that embracing difference and accepting who you really are is such a powerful and revolutionary thing, and you won’t need anyone’s approval, acceptance, and judgments in your life—thus, these would just drag you down. Just always remember to be who you are and show kindness even if they don’t.
Time flies so fast and I’m living the best years of my life, and I’m happy to say that we’re celebrating our fourth anniversary on April 1, 2020 and I wanna thank her and God for everything. Peace y’all.
I grew up afraid of being myself. Scared to be different, anymore so than I already was. I didn’t have a normal childhood by any means and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. At the ripe age of 5 I remember telling my mother my father was cheating on her and a week later we were moving from Ohio to Florida to live with my grandmother. Fast forward 3 years and two days before my 8th birthday my mother dropped by sister and I off at my grandmother’s house for what was supposed to be the weekend, which lasted for about 9 years.
I remember feeling abandoned, unwanted and unloved by the 2 people in the world who are supposed to be the ones who do that unconditionally and without labels and expectations. Being told at 8 years old that your mother doesn’t want you and isn’t coming back for you, that your father never wanted you and more or less feeling like a burden led to a lifetime of anxiety and insecurities.
The last thing I wanted to be was different in any other way but the universe had other plans.
Being queer wasn’t something I was sure anyone in my family would accept and more or less confirmed after my uncle came out. The first thing that I recall my grandmother and mother saying afterwards to each other was that they didn’t care that he was gay as long as they didn’t have to see it. I was maybe 12 or 13 at the time and knew my saying I love everyone regardless of gender or that I love love would be met with the same mindset by them so I hid who I was. I continued to be the simple self sufficient kid that they didn’t have to pay much attention to since I was the normal smart child who didn’t have any problems or issues she couldn’t solve on her own and I became really good at hiding who I was as well as the anxiety and fear so they wouldn’t treat me any differently.
Growing up my older sister and I were always close and we joke that I was her first child since she was always making sure I had what I needed and was my safe place. She has always known that I always saw love as love and didn’t judge or label people and treated me with the same courtesy. She has always known me better than I know myself even without me telling her I was queer she knew and accepted it when I did tell her finally. I took cutting out toxic relationships, mediation and finally being me for me to come out to her but she told me she knew already and just wants her hippie , peace loving, hates confrontation but will fight for who and what she loves, wants to change the world , wants to make every stray a pet, kind, smart-ass, sarcastic, too smart for her own good, protective, love is love baby sister to be happy ( and yes that is who she describes me to someone when asked). So I may not have come out to my entire family but the most important person in my world knows and accepts me for who I am without labels and with just love
