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My whole life, i Love girls but i didnt know that. I denied. I dont being happy, all the time i was bullied and i just on my 18th birthday i kiss for a girl and this show me my truly inside. Today i’m free and happy with so many lgbtqa+ representacions and so proud about me, today i love Who i’m. (Sorry about my terrible inglesh) love and thanks.
When I was little, my mom always put me in a variety of dresses, which, let’s face it, was never practical for the sporty girl I was.
I was about 10 years old when I ran down the hallway and jumped in my Stepmom’s arms at the end of The TIME OF MY LIFE (Dirty Dancing). And, because I trusted her with all my heart, because I think she picked me blushing when Jennifer Grey would appear on the screen,
The next day, she casually came out as bisexual as if she had just announced the weather. I blushed, chocked on my dinner and avoided my family’s eye contact.
I felt shame. I felt ashamed of the spectrum she had put words upon in such an easy way in front of my wide (queer) eyes open. Because it is what we are taught to avoid: Looking at it in the bright light.
But soon, I felt love. When she taught us about this intimate journey, smoothing the path under my footsteps as if in a look, she knew, that I just started my wild ride towards my inner self.
As I grew up, I started putting on loose clothing, for the easy purpose of being comfortable until it wasn’t a choice anymore. Due to back issues, I wore a corset, 24/7 for 5 years, the exact time of my puberty. I had to shop exclusively in the man section which means, I quickly met judgment, hate and violence from my said friends.
But I had this beautiful light of strength still burning somewhere in me. So, because I had no control over my body or the pain, I decided to cut my hair. I took control and I looked at society, with no woman form, short hair, and surely no confidence and what you can imagine happened. I became a little boy to the eyes of the world. And for a second, it felt simple, I was finally allowed to be attracted to girls too.
Quickly, it felt wrong, I was proud to be a Woman. I wanted everyone to see me as one. I hated that to be myself, I had to be seen as “different”. Still, I was week, young ad broken. So, I grew my hair back an in a way, I gave up. I ran away from every crowd, I feared people noticing me.
Until someone made me realized that I would never shine brighter to MYSELF, being THEIR idea of a woman, if I just disappeared.
She was the first girl of my age with short hair. Unless, she wasn’t staring at the crowd, frightened to be seen differently. So, I asked her, an easy question: “How did you do it?”
And she answered: “Well, I loved it. And if it’s what you love. If you feel yourself when doing it, then screw everybody’s opinion, you’re the one who can write your story.”
The wild journey towards happiness began at this point. Of course, I did cut my hair. And eventually, discovered the power of dressing as you want. Far away from anyone’s expectations, full of colours and patterns, I became the gendered fashion’s tightrope walker. One step in every section, a style in all.
I came out to my family, who were obviously expecting it (especially my stepmom and slowly the rest of them).
I managed to seduce for the past two years, a wonderful, brave and smart woman to stand by my side.
And, Yes,
It is still incredibly frightening, and hard, every day, not to be able to put myself out in the world, without earrings and be misgendered.
But I’m kind to myself. I think I’m pretty great and really, I’m only 18. My whole life is ahead of me, and I don’t know more than 1 per cent of my future self.
What I know is,
I’ll make sure that this 1 big per cent is kind and loving and brings light to other people’s eyes and hearts.
So that one day, I get to sit down at a dinner table and open a new colourful and safe world to a dreamy, blushing, beautiful human being.
I’ve had crushes on girls for as long as I can remember. Never made much of it, figured it was “normal”. Thought maybe it was just because I admired them and wanted to be them, or that it was a typical part of growing up.
In high school, I had crushes on boys and girls. I didn’t know much about anything back then, so I figured it was just a phase and one side would fade and disappear over time. That I was just figuring myself out and, one day, one side would win.
Since all I knew that existed was either gay or straight, it had to be one or the other, right?
I always hoped I would end up being only into boys, so that I could be “normal”. I wanted to be normal more than anything in this world.
My whole life, I had never fit in at all. With anyone, or anywhere. So I needed to at least be “normal” for one freaking thing, you know what I mean?
But then in college… I mean, classic story I guess, I fell for my straight female best friend. It didn’t go anywhere, but because at the time the only representation of bisexuality was the toxic version I had seen in the media, as well as the horrible things people would say about bisexuals, I decided to bury my attraction to guys.
I could NOT be bi… I’d rather be gay than bi. The examples I had seen were evil and toxic, and I just couldn’t be like them. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Never. Nope.
So I did everything I could to bury that side of me.
I would be so mean to myself.
…Fear and shame can make you think terrible words and do terrible things.
After a while, still in college, I ended up coming out as a lesbian. I hoped that by saying it, it would make it real. That it would erase the other part I didn’t want to think about.
I came out online to my classmates, after testing the waters for a while, trying to see if they would be accepting or not.
It was mostly fine. The more religious ones would often remind me that I would be going to hell for it, but apart from that it was great and the guys invited me to hang out with them. That was fun 🙂
Some time later, I came out to my parents through a letter I left in a place I knew they’d see it.
I was absolutely terrified they would kick me out.
The thing is… I come from a really judgmental family. My mum is very religious, but I’ve also heard a lot of racist and homophobic things growing up. And that’s just a tiny part of the range of judging comments I’ve heard all my life.
I’ve never been close to my family.
Discussions have never been a thing.
Disagreements mean either silence or terrible fights. Or both.
So I had no idea how that would turn out, but I felt like I needed to do it, if only to stop hearing “when are you gonna get a boyfriend?” that always tore me up inside.
I couldn’t breathe. I had been holding my breath for so long, and I needed to exhale at one point or another, or I would explode from holding it in.
Fortunately, in the end it was okay. I mean, at least they didn’t kick me out.
The “conversation” lasted for about 2 minutes, max, and then we never spoke about it again. (Except for the “maybe it’s just a phase” that I got a few times over the early years.)
That was around… 2004 I think?
Then once, in a birthday message a few years ago, my mum mentioned that she hoped I would find a woman I could be happy with. But that’s pretty much it. (And even today, I still hear homophobic things sometimes when I visit, if there’s something on TV about our beautiful community.)
Some time after I came out to my parents, I came out by email to most of my extended family. Again, I’ve never been close to anyone, and it’s always been easier for me to write than speak, so that’s how I chose to do it.
As far as I know, they’re all accepting. The ones I’ve told, anyway. But for other reasons, I stopped seeing them around that time, so who knows, really.
But to this day, except my godmother who I told recently when the topic came up, they all still think I’m gay.
Since emotionally I’ve only fallen for women, I didn’t want my parents to start hoping I would end up with a man when I don’t see it ever happening.
I mean, I’m pansexual, so I could end up with anyone I connect with no matter their gender, but… I’ve fallen for 3 women so far. No one else.
When I find “the one”, I want to finally feel safe using my chosen label. But until then, I feel safer just not talking about it around my parents.
But speaking of pansexuality… At some point I decided that no matter what society thought about bisexuality, I was only hurting myself by trying to fight who I was.
And then I heard about pansexuality, and it was the first label that I really connected with. The definition made so much sense to me, and it just felt right.
The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. Falling for someone’s soul, regardless of their gender, regardless of their genitalia, made all the sense in the world to me.
And by learning about the different labels, by finding great people who identified as them, I started to really accept myself and eventually started to love this part of me.
I mean… I’m just me, you know? 🙂
I’m also out in my workplace now. Took me years and for an openly gay man to be hired for me to feel safe enough to do it, but it’s done. Haven’t had any problems so far.
And I want to believe that I would also be open if I ever got a different job.
I can’t go back to hiding. I need to breathe.
Now that I know how great and freeing it feels to have air moving through my lungs, I don’t want to hide this huge part of who I am.
And today, well… I’m just fighting for better representation. And for bisexuality and pansexuality to be seen in a better light (and to be seen, period), so that the next generations don’t have to feel all the shame I’ve felt back when I was still figuring it out.
Labels or no labels, people should have access to amazing examples of every shade of our beautiful and colourful rainbow, so they can find a place to fit in somewhere along the way.
I’m convinced that love is stronger than everything else, so… I do believe that one day love will truly win.
And what a world this will be. x
Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.
Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.
My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.
Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.
At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.
I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.
When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.
I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?
Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.
So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.
Best regards,
That Tall Redhead <3
Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂
Hello,
Sorry for my bad english, I’m french.
I always felt different.
On many aspects, same for love and even more in my sexuality.
I started to have my first confused feelings for a woman when I was in middle school.
I was only 12 and it was a period that represent for me so much pain.
During a certain time, I was sexually abused from a male of my family, I was even more disoriented and lost.
I talked about it to my family many years later and about the fact that I was attracted by women.
There was a teacher I was intrigued about. She had something that made me feel like a moth in love with light and who can’t help but be around her.
I even remember going to a refresher course (well I needed it haha) in volunteer because she was teaching.
It’s fun to remember the path I have taken with acceptance.
Simply, I was a young teenager unaware and hurted. I didn’t realised the impact that it would represent in my life.
Deciding that I had already enough to manage (hiding that I have been raped to my family to protect them from suffer, my studies, all the hazards we find when we enter teenage years) I decided to put aside my attraction.
What a mistake because I soon realised that a part of me was missing. And while I was struggling to face my destroyed feelings with a big decline of self-esteem, I met this girl.
I met her in a video game, I arrived at a stage where my reality was hurting so much that the virtual was becoming my everyday.
When I could finally met her for the first time, I felt a big waves of emotions and a voice inside me was telling me that she was going to change my life.
And it was true. I loved her deeply, in secret, I was 16 nearly 17.
We were not ready to have a relationship, both of us because of our past… So it was a disaster.
However, she helped me to open myself up.
I was so happy that I started to talk about it to my friends, 2 or 3 members of my family…. They quickly accepted it.
When we broke up, I was so devastated that my mom found out that something was wrong so I told her everything.
I was so stressed because my family is religious and I will always remember my mom’s words : ” Every act done out of love is loving is the eyes of God”.
Now that I’m 22, I’m thankful. Because she (the girl I loved) broke me when she left but she helped me to accept myself.
In this grief we are forced to face the reality.
By destroying me on a short term she gave me the opportunity to rebuild myself, I searched for all the strengh I had left for it.
When we start to open up, it’s a path to acceptance. Now I’m considering myself as being Me.
I’m not in a box, a label, I don’t share this point of view to absolutely want to be dertimined.
For me, even in our similarities, we are no less different.
I will be in love of who my heart will choose, no matter the gender.
I’m into love.
I love being different.
I love my inner self and the one I aspire to become.
My story starts very similar to Dominique’s. I know now that I always knew I was into girls as well as boys, but it took me 26 years and falling head over heals in love to accept that. Growing up I didn’t have anyone in my life that identified as anything other than straight and my passion for escaping life through tv, movies, and books, there was never any other representation other than straight. As I grew into my womanhood, I have fond memories of my mom and sister asking me if I was gay and telling me that it didn’t matter, they just want me to be happy. I was lucky in that aspect, but I couldn’t accept that it was okay and continuously fought them on this claiming I liked BOYS. I was scared. One day my mom and I were watching our favorite day-time soap show All My Children and a beloved character on the show came out as a Lesbian, my mom hoped that this was inspire me to come out as well, but all I remember is how terrified the character was and how people started to treat her differently. Added to that, gay people weren’t treated nicely where I lived. In high school I can vividly remember the girls who came out and how horrible they were treated by fellow classmates. In college, I lost my dad to cancer and dived head first into being a role model on campus and making a positive change, but the one organization that worried me was the LGBTQ+ because by this time I was so worried that they would be able to see a part of me that I had buried deep inside of me. I liked guys and that was that (even though I had yet to have an actual relationship with one).
As life went on there was always a nagging voice in my head asking what if, but by this time it surely must be too late to come out and now that I worked with students full time, what would that mean for my career? Would I stop getting jobs because I may like girls? Nope, gotta be straight, there will be a guy one day that I will fall in love with.
Then it happened… that moment that I was scared would one day come. I met her. I had just started a new job where I would be living onsite with 14 other educators teaching outdoor education and on the first day of moving into my new house, a group of girls walked into my room and asked if I wanted to go grocery shopping with them. I remember the first time I looked at her and felt the butterflies.
She was going with them and I was going to get to know her. She would become my best friend, I would make sure of that. As our friendship grew (it felt like finding my other half) we both quickly became to realize that there was more to what was between us than just friendship. I started fighting that, it wasn’t right, I am straight. For 4 months I fought my feelings for her until 1 night I couldn’t fight it any longer and we shared our first kiss. It was like FIREWORKS going off. Honestly the most passionate kiss of my life.
We navigated life for the next 6 months as life threw everything against us. For starters, my new partner wasn’t keen on being out of the closet (understandably so), my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and just a mere 8 months into our relationship, my girlfriend (which omg how exciting to say that!) had to return back to the UK due to her visa. Needless to say we didn’t last as a couple, though our love for one another has never died and we continue to be very close friends. My life also sent me from the USA to Australia unexpectedly and with a breaking heart, I left my mom with promise to return, but she had other plans and passed the day after I arrived in Australia. She accepted me for everything I am and told me to go be free for once. If only for that, I could never thank her enough, but she was also just an incredibly, loving and amazing woman for whom I was blessed to be raised by.
In Australia I knew no one my age, and lived in an area of Sydney predominately non English speaking, so I looked online for a way to meet people and I discovered The Sydney Gay Girls on meetup.com. What would it feel like to just be gay??? To meet people who automatically saw me as a lesbian and didn’t care?? For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel judged. I went to my first meetup with 6 other girls and felt like I was finally living as my true self. I quickly started hosting meetups with a friend and now 8 years after coming out (spending the first 2 years still in the closet), I am getting ready to marry the most amazing, beautiful woman and continuing to spend the rest of my life living true to myself.
I share my story because I was afraid when growing up what society might think of me. I only had Xena as a model and as amazing as she was, even her show was afraid to fulfil that last confirmation. Today there are more and more representation of the LGTBQ+ in culture (thank you Dom for being a HUGE part of that), and I hope that the more stories there are and more acceptance, that one day people wont even question who you love and how you identify, it’ll just be normal being you.
The world is a beautiful place filled with beautiful people.
Sometimes we just need a little storm to let the rainbows shine brightest.
Come out and shine with me <3
#OutIsTheNewIn
I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”
I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.
It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.
I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.
Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.
It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.
No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.
And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.
Zo, Birmingham UK
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 have two different coming out stories. My public coming out was a lot sooner than coming out to family. My public coming out happened in college. At the time I wanted to identify as bisexual. I didn’t want to classify myself fully a lesbian and stuck to the safe choice (in my mind) of labeling myself as bisexual. My thought process was that as long as I also like men then I can find some way to relate to my peers.
That all changed Fall semester 2006 of my freshmen year in college. See the thing about me is that I’m afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I don’t like to put myself out there for fear of being awkward or saying something wrong. So with that in mind. My normal M.O. being to hide, I signed up for a religious retreat. Oh, I forgot to mention I was going to a Catholic university in good ole New Orleans, La.
Anyhoo, I signed up for the retreat and ended up going for a full weekend in October. I didn’t know what to expect. Well, I had my assumptions of being told that my feelings are wrong and that I couldn’t be who I was and that God thinks I’m a sinner. All these negative things.
I’m so glad I was way off. That weekend I went on a journey of love and acceptance of myself. It was so profound to meet strangers and see their love and acceptance of me shining in their eyes.
I remember there was a moment in the retreat where the newbies like myself had to close our eyes and trust fellow peers to guide us and shower us with hugs and dancing. It sounds so wacky but it’s probably the most profound feeling of love from complete strangers. The fact that we had to put trust in strangers and in return got shown unconditional love? That to me was unheard of. But the message was received. I may not be able to see my creator, but know that the person you are and the person that is seen is soooooo loved. It blew me away a but it was in that moment I could let go of my past labels and truly embrace me as who I am.
There were so many other parts in that weekend that solidified how loved I am for just being me. After that weekend I came out. To all my friends. People knew I was a lesbian and they accepted me. Ironically, I became heavily involved in the ministry at my university because I wanted others to feel that love I felt and that they could find someone they could relate to. I met my best friends there and I wouldn’t trade it. It helped me live my truth at least outside my home life.
My coming out to my family was rough. I’m Hispanic and my mom is a single mother that raised three awesome kids. She’s an immigrant and was raised with very strict ideals of marriage and life. Since I was the baby I could do no wrong.
That changed when I came out at 22. I was in graduate school in another state. I had just had my first real heart break and called my mom crying. She thought I was pregnant. Nope. Mama, I’m a lesbian. She was hurt. Hurt because she couldn’t understand why I turned out the way I did. Hurt because that’s not the life she wanted for me. She didn’t talk to me for a week.
But after that she slowly started talking to me. She wouldn’t bring it up and for a long time she couldn’t deal. But I got help from someone. My sister helped her see so many things I couldn’t express.
See my mom is a stubborn woman and set in her ways. But she actually opened her mind for me. She had a very strict mindset and no one could really change her mind about things. But she did for me. She opened her mind. She accepted me. My siblings didn’t care.
But my extended family is a different story. I have aunts that know and aunts and uncles that don’t know that would probably not approve. Most of my cousins know. I’m still navigating coming out to my extended family. I’m not out to everyone and I’m 31.
It’s not easy. It’s not easy to see how people’s faces change when you’re out.
But I won’t hide who I am. In public it’s a bit easier because the people that matter most have my back. I know family will come around if they don’t agree. I’m blessed. I got lucky. It could have been worse.
My faith didn’t suffer because of my sexual orientation. My family loves me (the ones that know). And my friendships and professional relationships are great. My truth is not a weakness. It’s my strength that I’ve learned not to apologize for.
My journey started way back when i was a child. I always knew from a young age that i’d just marry who i married and as long as we both loved each other and made each other happy then i’d be happy. But then as i became more aware of the world i realised that this wasn’t the “norm” and that in other people’s eyes i was going to marry a man. I moved up to secondary school at age 11 and suddenly realised it was a dog eat dog world. People would pick on you for wearing the wrong shoes, not styling your hair correctly, for not looking like a model and they’d call you “gay” whenever they could. So i buried that side of me of me for nearly 3 years. Eventually, i slowly started to learn about the LGBT community through the media and tv shows and i finally saw people like me represented on screens. But even then, it wasn’t always positive. So then i struggled for a year telling myself that I wasn’t bisexual and that it was a “phase” and that i’d get over it in a few weeks and then i could forget about it. But months passed and i was still telling myself it was a phase.
Then in June 2016 i found a show where i finally saw that positive representation i needed. i followed the journey of Waverly Earp and i saw her and it helped me to accept myself. So for the next 2 years i lived accepting myself and not telling anyone in fear of judgement and people not liking me.
Then i went up to college and i decided it would be a new start so on september 14th 2018 i came out to my dad and then i came out to my mum the following tuesday. Then i slowly started coming out to my friends. And i finally started accepting myself. I experienced the odd homophobic comment like “god created adam and eve not adam and steve, but i ignored it because i knew that they were just being ignorant and i continued making growth and finally breaking out of my shell. Until March 2019.
By then i had a voice in the back of my head telling me that i wasn’t actually bisexual. It was telling me i was a lesbian. The self doubt starting flooding in again. I was telling myself “I‘m not a lesbian, i just haven’t found any boys who i like yet”. All my friends were getting boyfriends and i felt like there was something wrong me. Every time me and my friends would do something they’d point out the hot boys and i’d just nod along and pretend. I didn’t want to point out and girls i liked or thought were good looking in fear of being judged, in case they’d see me differently even though i was already out as bisexual to them.
Then in November 2019 i got locked outside with a girl i liked and her friend. And i told them that i thought i was a lesbian and they pulled me in for a hug and told me that it didn’t matter how i identified because they’d always accept me.
Then in february 2020 whilst my friend was drunk i told her i thought i was a lesbian. She pulled me in for a hug and she told me she was so proud of me and that i deserved the world.
Everyday i still fight inside my head against the compulsive heterosexuality i feel inside, against the idea that i need to marry a man in order to be accepted and liked. I’m done sacrificing my happiness and identity in order to make others happy. Therefore from today, March 30th 2020. I will be living my truth.
And that truth is that I am a lesbian. Because in the end, love wins.
And out is the new in.
