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I first questioned things when I was 5, but a negative reaction from my mother led me to suppress my queerness until I was 17. That was when I tried binding my chest for the first time. It was a life changing experience, and over the past 5 years I’ve continued to explore my gender. Now I can confidently say I am a non-binary man, and I am no longer ashamed of it.
Sometimes being a wild musician has repercussions.
I had known for a while that I had lesbian tendencies. Women are beautiful creatures, truly. Being a pretty boisterous musician on stage, I also like to keep my private life separate.
A few girls had come and gone, under the radar of most of my friends and family…
Until I was lowkey dating this cute little troublemaker of a girl in my mid 20’s. We got uhm…into things in my old bedroom – an artsy basement turned music studio where my band mates and I tackled each other one night and somehow flew into the bedroom door, knocking it clear off its hinges (mind you, I fell backwards with it) and laziness prevented me from fixing it. After all, I had moved out a while back, so no need…right?
As things heated up, I wasnt paying attention to my surroundings and my father somehow found his way into the basement to ask me about dinner. Low and behold, he pokes his head thru the blanket aka makeshift door, and BOOM. Caught. Red. freaking. handed. (How embarassing!)
I’ve never seen him dart back upstairs so fast lol.
AND Woah! Instant cold shower. For both of us. I didnt know what to do! She kinda paniced! I hadda think fast.
So I quickly threw myself together, and went upstairs.
My poor dad. ‘I am not sure what I just saw…uhm’
I put my hands into my sweatpants pockets and kinda squeeked out
‘Well……I am gay? And that was my beautiful girlfriend downstairs and uhhhh here lemme go get her and introduce you.’ He was shocked, but totally fine with it. Everyone was! What a relief. I got lots of support and I should have said something sooner. But Talk about being outright caught. We still laugh about it to this day.
My coming-out story is a loooong journey. I first faced my homosexuality when I was 18. I’d left my family-nest to pursue my studies, and it really was the first time I was left alone with myself. It became a journey, during which I discovered myself entirely.
And I met that one girl. She was gay, and I completely fell for her. That moment was the starting point of a really long thinking about my sexuality and myself in general. Each step was full of sadness and pain … but also full of joy. It took me 6 months to tell my closest friends about being in love with a woman. More than a year to completely accept and embrace my homosexuality.
But the hardest part was telling my family. I’m really close to them, we share everything and love each other so fucking much. Taking the risk to lose all of this by telling them my truth, it was unimaginable for me. So I kept it inside of me for 4 (very long) years. The thing is, I was exhausted. Exhausted of lying to the ones I love, of hiding my feelings and a huge part of my life.
That is why, on January 1st 2019, I confessed to my family about my homosexuality. And, damn it, all the feedbacks I received were full of love and acceptance. I was scared of crying because they would reject me. Instead, I cried only tears of joy because they accepted me. Whole of me.
Nowadays, I’m a very happy 24 years-old gay AF woman.
M.
From France.
Ive known since i was young (around the age of 12) that i wasn’t straight, however it created an inner conflict because i was not yet ready to face it or accept it. This conflict and struggle of acceptance was something i used write about, in a ‘diary’ and through poems. Slowly, by the age of 17, i had got the courage to come out to my nephew (hes a year younger than me and my is like a best friend to me), and that feeling i got after telling him was so incredibly freeing, not to sound cliché it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted, though he remained the only person i was out to for a few months. Not long after coming out to him i started getting closer to a girl at school, we had me that october (i had came out to my nephew a few weeks prior) and by december we were officially dating! (yay!) but the situation isnt that simple, less than a month after meeting this girl, my best friend at the time admitted to having feelings for me (she was also a girl) but i just didnt feel the same way about her, she was my best friend and i’d never thought of her as anything more (it’s also worth mentioning she identified & continues to identify as straight, so perhaps she’s going through/went through her own journey of sexual identity?). After a long conversation with this friend we attempted to go back to normal despite her telling me she had a crush on me & me not liking her back. I didn’t tell her about the girl & i talking or getting together because i didnt want to hurt her feelings (i realise this was absolutely not the right thing to do, had i told my best friend about it then maybe what happened next wouldnt have happened at all). During sixth form (i think this is college for americans) my best friend somehow found out from literally the only other person we told that this girl & i had been together for around a week…i dont know if this next part came out of jealousy or spite or just pure hatred but my best friend went & outed me to all of my peers in the common room…only 1 or 2 of my friends new & i hadn’t even told them, my girlfriend did. people i had been friends with for 6 years didnt even know yet because it was something i was still finding my way through & feeling out…yet i was forced to be okay with what my ‘best friend’ did. i feel guilty in this situation for being a rubbish friend and not yet telling her about the girl & i but it was all so fresh and the news about my best friend liking me had come as a shock to me so i was having to deal with so many feelings at once. not an excuse, but i dont feel as though i deserved to be outed….as someone that had struggled with being gay and coming to terms with it for YEARS (just like so, so many other lgbtqia people) being outed was the worst experience of my life but something i have to live with & move on from. On a more positive note, this happened in january of 2018 (just over 2 years ago) and i am still with the girl in this story!!! We’re moving in together in September because we’re both heading to university (she’s studying to be a midwife, what an absolutely angel!).
Oh man. It’s been quite a journey. I guess it started around 5th grade or so. I recognized it and actually began to come out to myself, but in true ADHD fashion, managed to push it to the back of my mind and forgot about it for several years. My sexuality popped up later in middle school when relationships began to bloom and I failed to understand my friends’ obsession with boys. Instead I was thinking about them. I kept repressing it’s and was terribly unhappy up until last year, when I entered my first real relationship. She and I met through school and did not even know the other’s name after 7 months of sitting right next to each other. Finally, she bucked up and asked me out. Then I realized I wanted my parents to know her as my girlfriend. So I came out to them via text while across the street from them. They took it very well and it was immediately seen as just another part of me. I wouldn’t have it any other way. By coming out I was able to understand that I don’t want to hide my love for this amazing woman from anyone.
I was in 6th grade when I first realized that I really like girls more than I should. I first told my childhood friend and she was okay with it then some of my other friends when I was in 7th and 8th then I told my brother and he was happy that I’m happy and he’s the only one in my family that knows and accepts me, I’m super scared of coming out to everyone else and I hope one day I’ll be happy. Thanks for letting me tell my story for now at least, I hope that one day everyone will find they’re happiness myself included. 
I really struggled with my sexuality growing up. I was surrounded by boys and all I wanted to be was like my older brothers. I’d steal their clothes growing up so I could dress like a boy. I sometimes wondered if I was supposed to be one. I was sexually assaulted at a young age by someone close to me. Just typing that causes so much anxiety and shame that I know I shouldn’t feel, but I’ve never got the help that I should have and very few people in my life have been told the full story.
Over the years, I was openly attracted to boys and even had a few crushes. Under the surface there was always one girl that I would be attracted to, at different stages of my life. There was a girl during elementary, then one during middle school and high school, and then another during and after college. All of these girls identified as straight, but I was closer to them than anyone else. They had the power to determine my moods on a frightening level. It got worse as I got older. I still continued to have crushes and other feelings towards boys too, and I was much more vocal about these feelings.
When I got to college I developed a very close and affectionate, but slightly unhealthy relationship with a girl. Nothing sexual ever happened, but I became very dependent on her and this is where the frightening mood swings would come in.
I would never get violent with anyone but myself. When I spoke about her to others it would be met with questions of if I liked girls. I would say no and try to rationalize my thoughts and feelings.
I got some space from this girl, and although it took me a long time, I eventually became less dependent on her and she had less influence on my moods. It took several more years for me to come to terms that I might be bisexual, and then I realized more recently that I’m probably more Pansexual. It was actually while watching Wynonna Earp and shipping #Wayhaught that I became more aware and comfortable with coming to those realizations enough to share them with my friends. I haven’t come out and told my family directly, but I’ve said it in other ways. Everyday I try to accept myself a little bit more for who I am. My biggest struggle now is learning to love myself in every aspect, including my looks, and finding the strength and discipline to change/improve what I don’t like about myself.
I knew I was queer from a young age. I remember watching Willow’s journey on Buffy and seeing that on screen just felt right. But I was young, and terrified of that feeling. I grew up in a city in Massachusetts, went to church every Sunday with my family, sang in the choir, went to CCD and was searching for a strong connection with my faith. At times I found it, but other times, I felt like I just didn’t fit there. As I grew up, I became more obsessed with the feelings I was having about my sexuality. I would stay up all night looking up things like “how do you know if you’re gay” and on message boards trying to find people who might feel the same way I do. Middle school and high school was hard. My friends were talking about cute boys and “hot” male actors. But I liked the female actors, and I didn’t think the senior on the soccer team was the most attractive thing on two legs. But I pretended I did. And honestly, there were a few boys I thought were really nice and cute, and I would talk about them. But in reality, I was much more interested in the senior girl that played soccer. But I couldn’t admit that; to my friends or myself. These feelings of being different and knowing my sexuality wasn’t status quo ate at me for a long time. I ended up coming out my senior year in high school….via twitter…..to impress a girl. (it wasn’t the best idea. I wasn’t ready, and my friends weren’t ready to talk about it with me). Honestly, it just made me feel like even more of a freak, and in that time where I am suppose to be happy and finding myself, I lost myself more and more. And it took a long time to get back to the person I knew I was. Ten years later, I’m still not there.
About a year after that I came out to my parents (again to impress a girl, I wasn’t ready), over the phone on a cold night in February. They weren’t exactly thrilled. It came out of nowhere and they didn’t really know what to do with the information. And honestly, neither did I. We didn’t talk about it more than twice. The first time my dad told me to keep this to myself, and the second, when my mom told me not to tell people when I went to study abroad in Ireland. I talked about it a little bit with one of my sisters, but never felt fully safe to with the other because she would always make homophobic jokes and comments, specifically to the lesbain community.
For most of my life since coming out, my sexuality was looked at as something to mention or comment, not to accept or embrace. And that made learning how to love myself and feeling like I am worthy of love quite difficult. I spent almost every weekend in college black out, or close to that drunk trying to find someone who might find me pretty enough to kiss or have sex with. I didn’t care who it was, I just wanted to feel something or fit in. For years, no one found me pretty enough. No one wanted to love me. There were a few times someone kissed me or went to bed with me. But no one who wanted to let it be known. I was always a secret. And all through college, when I was suppose to be finding myself and figuring out who I was and where I fit, I spent getting drunk and absolutely hating myself. And trying not to let anyone know how deeply these feeling were.
When I was a senior in college I got my first girlfriend. Finally, someone who wanted to love me, someone who was willing to tell other people that she loved me. We played on the soccer team together and although our relationship was brief, I am so thankful for it. It was the first time I believed that someone could love me and all my weird. After we broke up, I didn’t feel that way anymore, but it got better. After years of working on it, she has come to be one of my best friends. We both agree we never should have dated, we are WAY better as friends. But I am thankful for that special time we shared. About a year after that relationship, I fell Wildly in love with a beautiful woman who was just coming into her bisexuality. We started dating and almost 5 years later we are now engaged. By allowing myself to be loved and finding a safe space to grow I finally feel safe enough to step into my truth.
What I have come to realize is that I spent SO long trying to fit in, trying to make sure I had pretty friends, and accepting that I was just the fat ugly queer friend that they kept in their circle for good measure that I never learned who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. Now, after cutting off ties with people who made me feel like shit, and having a supportive partner who supports me in everything that I attempt and explore I am starting to let myself be free. I am starting to allow myself to love me. I still struggle with it. I am more unkind than kind to myself. But I am working on it. I am learning to love my queer self and letting all my colors show.
i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.
I went into fifth grade with the greatest belief that everything would be amazing. I was hoping to make many new friends and become someone that was independent for the first time. I was hoping for so many things, and got none of them. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life. It was a year that pushed me to the edge of everything and left me belittled and scared for what was going to come next.
The truth is that people often believe that fifth graders don’t have a good idea about who they are, what they like, or who they like. However, I was different. I can confidently say that fifth grade was the year that I realized that I was a bit unusual. I looked at boys with a fond eye, which is what I believed was normal, so when I first looked at a girl with that same eye, I became apprehensive. I wasn’t sure why I felt the same way and I didn’t know that what I was about to do would spark something horrible.
I walked up to this girl that I saw differently and told her, point blank, that I had feelings for her. I even remember writing her a poem and giving it to her as she stood outside of her locker. Nothing that I had done felt out of the ordinary, but as soon as someone noticed my gesture, all hell broke loose. The word got around very quickly that I was a lesbian. My classmates talked about me and laughed. They wouldn’t let me sit by them at lunch or be in their group for a project. At recess I walked alone, anxiously staring at a group as they continued to talk about me. I had never felt so isolated and alone, most of all, I had never felt so depressed. I, at the age of ten, considered taking my life. The pain that I felt kept building up and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that kept me alive was my family.
Now, my family didn’t actually know that any of this was going on. Every day, I would leave my house with a smile on my face and come home with that same exact smile. My parents and two sisters had no knowledge of anything that was going on at school. They didn’t know that I would go into my room and contemplate why I should continue fighting and not just give up. However, if there is anything worse than what the kids were saying about me, making my parents cry would be cause the biggest pain in my heart. I could never hurt myself in a way that would leave them asking why I did something or cause them to wonder if they were the reason. Despite all of the pain that I felt throughout fifth grade, I would never leave this world for the fear that my parents would be left alone in it.
Denial was the only way that I made it out of fifth grade. I denied all of the events that had occurred and stepped right back into the figurative closet that has been created for people like me. Now, as a junior in college, I am more open with people about my sexuality. I have the biggest and best support system around me and could not be more thankful. I look at life through a new lens, filled with hope for anyone like me. I look back at fifth grade and hate it in so many regards, however, I also look at it and believe that who I am today would not be a possibility without those events. I believe that everyone deserves to be happy and I will never disregard someone for a belief or aspect of their life. I have also come to accept who I am as a person and I am no longer scared. I was so close to the edge with nobody near. Now, if I ever become close to that edge again, I know I will have multiple people behind me ready to help.
