The darkness and pain never ends
Am a bisexual who haven’t come out to my family, but told my close friends
I know my family will never approve and I don’t want to lose them. They the only thing I’ve got.
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Am a bisexual who haven’t come out to my family, but told my close friends
I know my family will never approve and I don’t want to lose them. They the only thing I’ve got.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR.
I think the instinct was always there but I never thought that being gay was an option where I grew up. In my parents’ home culture, being queer was simply dismissed, as something not real and it really messed with my head when I first truly realized I was attracted to women. Even though in high school, I did have friends who were lesbian and bisexual, I couldn’t see myself ever being one of them. I still remember the night I saw the first woman I was strongly drawn to. It was when I was watching her in a performance that was so passionate and evocative. I thought, “oh God, she is attractive.” That night, I sat down, wrestling with my newfound feelings which I had never felt before in grade school. It was a crush, but I finally understood all those love songs that I didn’t really identify with, because they were mainly heterosexual love representations.
It still took me five years to come out. In between was a rollercoaster of identity crisis, unrequited love, and finding self-acceptance that I was gay. I even entered a relationship with a boy just to see if I could suppress my true attractions. It ended up becoming so toxic because at the end of the day, I could not bring myself to be attracted to him. There was a lot of coercion and I let him because I thought I didn’t deserve any better. The homophobia I had towards myself led me to being desperate to be in control of anything, which included my own body image. I developed an eating disorder, and mentally and emotionally killing my own body. Finally, at the end of college, I looked at myself, gaunt, low-sex drive, thinning hair, and empty. This was not working. I left the relationship, cut my hair, and began to pick up the pieces that were left of me.
Fortunately, that same summer, I found friends who I could be open with about my sexuality. I don’t think I ever had to explain myself or the things I went through to them, but they accepted me without question. I still owe it to them for basically saving my life. My weight went back to normal, and I was beginning to find ways to be more confident little by little. I went to pride parades, watched films and shows with queer characters (Wynonna Earp), and slowly but surely began piecing together my tattered self. I met more queer people who were kind and essential to me becoming more forthcoming in my queerness.
In the year 2017, I survived and graduated with a masters degree in teaching. I was far from being a true professional, but one thing I knew I could do was to start being more authentic. How could I teach students to believe and be themselves if I didn’t do the same? I came out, shakily, to my parents. I had to tell my older sister first, who helped me bring it up with my mother. She looked at me and said I her native language, “well I figured, seeing you brought home an effing big rainbow flag from San Francisco.” I laughed and I also cried. My dad heard, but is still not understanding quite yet. Perhaps he never will, but I was out and I was grateful he didn’t dismiss me or kick me out.
Fast forward to today, I’m pretty much out to people I care about most. There are still many scars, and healing to be done, but I’m just glad to be able to be out and proud as I am. Is it the perfect life? Of course not. I still struggle a lot as a fellow human. I still struggle with mental health and trauma. Would I choose to live any other way? Also no. Because at the end of the day, I realize that all of us who choose to be who we really are, are most able to show the love that this world desperately needs. I am proud of being myself, for the first time in my life.
Thanks for reading, and happy coming out!
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;
I knew I was part of the community when I was young and I just never really knew what “gay” felt like so then I got older(16 now) I finally got the courage to tell my parents, but first I told my friend by passing a note, then she said she was bi too and then I came out to my mom but couldn’t tell my dad because I feel like he had a whole other perspective on it, but my mom secretly told my dad and he is cool with it. I told my sister and she is very supAI’ve always known I was part of the community, I’ve always thought other girls were pretty and that eventually I’d fall for one and that’d be it. What was shocking to me was that it wasn’t common to feel this way. At a very young age I’d thought, “But girls are so pretty! How can you not like girls?” I never felt a need to come out, I came home one day and said “Mom, I have a girlfriend!” I could tell she was surprised but she was calm and hugged me and told me how proud of me she was. Our community can be such an accepting place, that’s one of my favourite things about it. I’m still very young, I don’t exactly have very many years on me, but I’ve always known who I am and what I want.portive of it and we have a closer bond together and we always joke around and pick out my “future girlfriend.” My whole family is supportive of me, including my grandma, and doesn’t think any different of me and I can’t wait for what the future holds for me!
All of the coming out stories on this site encouraged me to write what follows and post it on my website and social media. Thank you to one and all for speaking their truth and in doing so, reminding me how important it is to own our truth and for me, stand publicly in my truth.
I have never officially come out of the closet. I also never sat my parents down to explain my sexuality. It never felt right to me, I would not explain having a boyfriend so why would I explain having a girlfriend. The idea felt degrading and separatist. I brought my girlfriend home from college and we slept in the same room. My parents have always been accepting and supportive and this was no different. Eventually conversations occurred with my parents and we all acknowledged my having a girlfriend in college and in high school it was boyfriends. That was it, and the love and support I expected and desired has always been there. With time and life experiences I recognize how blessed I have been to have such parents.
By my sophomore year at college I had a serious girlfriend. We were not out to everyone, but we were not hiding. We essentially lived together and hung out with mutual friends. College felt freeing to me, having grown up in a small town in Western Kansas where EVERYONE knew everything, or it seemed. Unfortunately, college was also my first experience where I discovered what it is like to be judged and attacked for my sexuality. I was outed by an instructor and several peers. The derisive gossip was meant to attack and shame me, to what end I do not know. Action taken, I assume, because I was different and that apparently made me a threat. Again, one of those people who outed me was a college instructor… The lesson I took was to become smaller and less of a threat, and it worked.
I became a professional horse trainer and riding instructor; a career path that is heavily dominated by men with women predominantly the clientele, a world built on traditional conservative values. In this role I had to be as tough as a man and as feminine as I could be in appearance to survive; I worked hard and found success and continued to hide in plain sight. My inner circle knew, I just did not blatantly flaunt my relationships in the workplace. However, on occasion, I experienced people finding out and attempting to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. They were never even my clients. Somehow, being a woman and loving a woman was a threat to some. I find it confusing, the horses never seemed bothered and my students grew their riding skills. Shouldn’t that be enough? Wasn’t that my job?
Over the last several decades I have been asked to go back into the closet surprisingly frequently. One such request was from a partner. For her, I embraced a much higher level of privacy and seclusion, embracing dishonesty about my truth. I justified it to myself for her benefit as she was struggling with her own sexuality, and I knew what it is like to be outed and attacked. This choice came at a cost. I slowly but surely chipped away at my own value and self-worth. When you add the shift in our culture toward more blatant violence being taken against the LGBTQ+ community, it is no wonder I find myself hesitating to come out of my cave and stand tall.
During this pandemic, I have had some extra time on my hands and have continued the process of self-discovery and awakening. In 2016 I had a health scare, a little bit of breast cancer, which started me on a path of embracing life at an elevated level. I have explored regrets, past relationships, work choices, friendships, the list goes on. Recently I have been addressing my sexuality in depth. It seems strange to do at 51… After my last breakup I tried to talk myself into being straight, didn’t work. I have sought a label to fit in, frankly because it seems easier to find community and answer questions. The truth is that I do not fit a specific label, I am not gay, straight or bisexual. I like men, but I truly prefer women. Like many, I have struggled with understanding the diverse array of labels I have come across and what they all mean. Finally, I have landed on the belief that they, much like me, are trying to find a simple way to describe and understand themselves and maybe find others who are similar. It is hard to find community and mentors if you cannot describe yourself or see yourself in others. Visibility matters. Voice matters. Being acknowledged matters. Being seen, really seen matters.
Today I am choosing to officially come out of the closet. I am guessing the closest I will get to a label is calling myself queer, but I still do not prefer labels… I am so much more than this one word. I am a woman, driven, a leader, compassionate, an empath, a warrior, a facilitator, a healer, a horse trainer, a people trainer and coach, an aunt, a daughter, a professor, a humorist, an author, a story teller, a nature lover, a dog mom, a dancer…. and I am queer. I must speak my truth and be fully congruent. If I am not congruent, I am not whole. I deserve to live an entirely whole life embodying my full truth. I am most at ease and entirely in my power when I am my truth. I want to be the mentor for that person who feels alone and know it is possible to be fully embodied and live your truth. Self-acceptance gifts us with self-confidence, which empowers us. The job or client I do not get because of this statement, I do not want. No more tainted money. I am a better facilitator, teacher, trainer and human being because of who I am and what I have experienced in my life. I deserve to give you the best of me and you deserve to receive my best. That means I must stand fully in MY power.
I am here and I am reaching my hand out. To my cousin – I am sorry I did not know you, did not know that you were suddenly a teenager forced to survive life and the streets because of who you are. I am so grateful to know you today, to love you and count you as my family. I do not want to fail another. To those who simply need to know they are not alone, I am here with you. I stand beside you and see your light. To those who need a hand, I am here and will steady the ladder. To those who need to be witnessed or heard, my eyes and ears are open. May we all as a community, young and not so young, stand together and raise our voices. May we rise and be the mentors we dreamed of to create a better world for us all; every shade of the rainbow deserves to be seen and honored.
Cathy
I am 24. I knew at age 15 that I had an attraction to girls when I had, what seemed like, an everyday interaction with a female friend on my basketball team. It was nothing more than a hug; but during that embrace I felt someone I had never felt before.
In middle school I would tell my friends that I had a crush on a boy, but it wasn’t a real crush. Outside of seeing this boy at school, I would never think about him or feel the urge to talk to him or see him. I told my friends this lie because I wanted to fit in. And maybe on some level I actually believed it was a crush because I hadn’t yet met a girl I felt that attraction for; so I was unaware of what if actually felt like, until a couple years later.
Having that interaction, at 15, that led to me realizing that I am attracted to girls was one of the scariest moments of my life. I remember going home that night and staring at the wood of the top bunk bed from my bottom bed. I kept finding and tracing patterns in the wood to avoid thinking about what had happened to me internally that day.
My mother was a very religious woman. Sexuality was never something that was talked about in my home growing up because it was always just assumed that because my mom raised us “Christian” that we were absolutely straight, or “normal.” My mom was anything but an open minded person, what she believed was right and you couldn’t change her mind, everyone else was wrong. At the age of 12 my mom informed me that she wouldn’t be watching Grey’s Anatomy anymore and that I was not allowed to watch it either. This was because they introduced a lesbian couple into the show. In my moms words, “it’s disgusting and I don’t want you kids watching any of that.” Me, being a curious preteen, would of course sneak to watch it on my own. I wanted to see what was so bad about 2 woman being together, but I didn’t see what my mom saw. And yet it was still another 10 years before I was able to be completely honest to even myself about my sexuality.
I went through high school and 2 semesters of college telling everyone that I was straight, and I got so good at saying it that I believed it and lived it, even though subconsciously I knew I was not.
At age 19, I fell in love with my best friend. I didn’t know it was love at the time, and even when she confronted me about it I denied it, I told her she was crazy and that I just like having a close friendship with her. She did not believe it; she cut me out of her life for having feelings for her, feelings that I had never acted on In any way. That should have pushed me further in the closet, but actually it started an internal battle with myself. I began to question everything I would do, every thought I had, every move I would make. I thought about it nearly every minute of everyday for 4 months. That is when I knew she was right. I lost my best friend over it, but all the hurt from that was able to make me see who I truly was. I had a LOT of shame about who I was, but also about doing everything in my power to hide it for so long. So much shame that I still didn’t come out for another year and a half.
When I finally felt ready to talk about, I sat in a room with my close friend and told her I had something on my mind. She was all ears, but I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I said, “my brain won’t let me say it.”
She said, “how about you write it down and read it to me.” She gave me a piece of paper and I wrote, “I think I might be gay.” I looked at it, I read the words without thinking about what they meant, and that was the only way I was able to say it.
Her reaction?… “that’s it? You built this up so big and that’s all it is? Sarah, I don’t care if you’re gay, I love you.” I exhaled the breath I had been holding in since I read what I wrote and I sobbed.
After that it became easier and easier to tell people. I was 22 at the time, but I did not tell my mom until I was almost 24. The first year of my coming out journey was only telling my sisters and close friends, people who I knew in my heart wouldn’t look at me any different. Since it was still a new thing for me I wasn’t ready to have a bad experience with telling someone. I feared that would shove me back into the closet, and that was the last place I wanted to be.
Here I am now, 24 years old. I have surrounded myself with a family of friends who love me for me, they do not judge me, they do not question who I am.
I can just be me and it is the best feeling in the whole world..
I think I knew in 7th grade. There was a girl named Sarah that I thought was pretty but I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t fully explain. Looking back now I definitely liked her and wanted to be with her. There have been plenty of times since then where I’ve questioned whether I was a lesbian or not. I still struggle with that at times, especially because I think, maybe even more-so than any other identification, bisexual is the most often considered a “phase” so it’s been extremely hard ein okay living in that so-called “phase” space. I am truly and completely attracted to both women and men, but I wouldn’t identify as pansexual either. I am 100% about people being comfortable in their own skin, I just don’t find myself romantically drawn to transgender people. Coming out to my friends was easy because I surround myself with loving and accepting people. But my parents to this day still do not know.
I always knew there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was called, and certainly didn’t know the emotional battles I would have with myself as I was growing up.
Coming from a relatively small country town was even more confusing for me.
What is wrong with me?
Is there something wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
Are there other girls like me? Where are they?
How will I know?
What will people think?
What will my family think?
Will my friends hate me?
The questions just kept coming, but I didn’t have any answers. Each and every day I was struggling with my inner demons.
I remember my first real girl crush like it was yesterday. There was a girl in my class at primary school that just got me. I know she is still out there, and I know she is out. One day our paths may cross again.
I moved away from my home town when I was 19 and headed for the big smoke. By this time I was in so much emotional pain. I developed a very close relationship with alcohol, but the pain didn’t go away. It was always there the next day.
I became close to one of my friend’s mum. I could talk to her about anything. She obviously saw something in me that I didn’t know was ‘visible’.
When she asked if I wanted to go out one night with her and some friends, of course I said yes. What she didn’t tell me was that it was a women’s only club. When we walked in, although petrified, I finally felt like I was not alone. The place was packed, so I definitely wasn’t alone 
. Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.
I guess this was the first time I came out, and I didn’t have to say a word. And I guess that’s when her and her partner came out to me.
When it came time to start coming out to family and friends, I was shit scared, and rightly so. I was cast out, given death glares, humiliated, bullied, publicly shamed, and the list goes on.
I was made to feel disgusted that I was a human being.
Even though I was living the party life, I was now very much alone. Let’s be honest, I was trying to fill a void.
At my lowest point, I just wanted to die.
Slowly, I started to meet people who just saw me, without judgement. I was finally starting to realise that life could be beautiful.
Times were changing.
Or was it just me seeing things more clearly?
Things were very different back in the 90’s.
Along came the internet, mobile phones, and a multitude of Social Media platforms.
May the support, awareness and love continue to grow for the LGBTQ+ community.
I’ve always known I was different. I grew up being a “tomboy”, playing sports, playing in the dirt. I also grew up doing dance and loving makeup. I came out as a lesbian at 16. Navigating that world was a tremendous journey. I still didn’t feel like that’s where I belonged. Fast forward 10 years and I discovered what it meant to be non-binary. Nothing has ever felt like it fit more than when I heard that for the first time. I came out as non-binary at 26. This opened an entirely different world to me. I met some really incredible people and actually felt like I finally belonged. Fast forward 2 more years and I’m now 28 and I’m out as a non-binary trans human who identifies as queer. I truly believe love can solve anything. Being part of the queer community opened my eyes to so many things and I truly believe I’m a better human because of it.
Hey guys, my name is Bruna, I’m Brazilian. Probably some things I’m going to write can get a little confusing because as my English is a beginner, I will write in my language and my friend google will help me with the translation.
I need to start by saying that my story is a cliché, I usually refer to it that way. But I think the good thing about clichés is that they reach people with a lot of truth, because it’s also the story of a lot of people. So come on.
I am the daughter of separated parents and grew up in a poor community in northeastern Brazil. My parents split up when I was months old and my mother ended up raising me without my father’s help. I lived until my adolescence at my maternal grandmother’s house together with my mother and an uncle. And after that my mother had a partner with whom we went to live for a few years.
It started when I started walking. My mom says that when I started taking my first steps I started going to church. At less than two years old I started going to church. I just went in there and sat down, nobody took me. Even my mother, my grandmother and my uncle I lived with, nobody went to church and in fact they didn’t even like it very much. As it is very hot here most of the year, I would leave the house wearing panties and flip-flops and enter the church at any time, all that was needed was for the door to be open.
The first person I attracted me romantically was my Bible school teacher, I must have been about 8 years old. I didn’t know what I called that feeling, I just know that I wanted to be close to her, touch her, watch her and try to somehow look like her or imitate her in some things. In parallel, I was absorbing and learning about sin, guilt and hell. As I grew up, both things became part of me, and as a teenager I had my affective experiences, both with boys and girls. And then at that time I stopped attending church.
From there, I started to get interested and research about possible theories and explanations to understand this concept so complex that it is sexuality. I consumed materials from both psychological science, biology and the animal kingdom as well as theories of the Christian segment. Despite feeling trapped and suffocated in that search, I really believed in God and wanted to find positive answers in all of that.
When I turned 18 I went back to church, got baptized and tried my best to get close to God. I started to be part of that community. I joined the music and communication group, made myself available to help with various activities, dedicated a part of my salary to deliver to the church every month and help with other campaigns. Sometimes I arrived before the doorman and left with him. I read the Bible a lot, the most complex and contradictory texts, I searched for the original language to understand the most accurate possible translation, I bought several study bibles and biblical dictionaries, I read books and everything else you can imagine.
In parallel to that, at the age of 20 I entered the faculty of Psychology, and then I thought: now I will learn and discover many things about the human being, his interactions and his behavior. So I will seek to study and learn about God in the same way, in an attempt to balance things out.
But, before talking about everything I lived and learned in college, I need to talk about my faith. I really believed in God. I really enjoyed being part of the church and belonging to a community. I learned many good things there and many of the things I learned with faith helped me to become what I am today and of whom I am very proud. A lot of that universe is really part of me. I met people that I can say that made a lot of difference in my life and helped me when I had several problems and difficulties, and who are by my side today.
Despite these things that I see as positive, there were so many others that hurt me too much. There were so many jokes, comments … I saw people being removed and expelled from their activities and positions in the church because of their sexuality. People who had to undergo various rituals and procedures of deprivation of so many things so that they could participate again. I was really reflective on how this topic was always prominent in the church. I heard several messages about it, so many damn jokes that even today I can clearly hear the pastor’s voice in my head with so much irony. It hurt, it really hurt.
I started to think about these parallel universes that may exist, like the one in the church, that managed to make me feel small and insignificant, because it seemed that I couldn’t be part of it, even though it seemed to be a very big place, it didn’t have a little space for me. Maybe this sounds familiar. This environment, ideas can even look like something very sophisticated and sometimes I thought that there was only this universe and that I needed to fit in some way, because it was the only one I could see.
Unfortunately environments, like churches, companies and even the family can compose an environment that is not good for us and then we need to find ours, because trying to fit in can hurt us and collaborate so that we become someone else or the worst, let to be who we are. And if there is no such place, we may need to create one. I will not lie, it is not easy. But we can find people and many other resources to help us. I found many things, I will tell you.
So in college, as you might imagine, it was a long way, from learning, acquiring repertoires about various ways of existing and living. I developed the ability to listen and observe and so many others that promote health and well-being. In my profession I learned about welcoming, understanding and caring. I realized that feelings like guilt and all the actions that can increase this feeling lead to psychic discomfort, mental disorders like depression and even suicide. I learned about relationships and so many other contributions that helped me understand social movements and other such interactions. I learned that the human being is powerful and that there is a potential for transformation. I learned concepts like equity, empowerment, autonomy, and that these being present in the logic of social interaction
can bring so much freedom and quality of life to people and result in changing paradigms and transforming worlds. Ah, I learned a lot that made me and still has made me more human, too human.
At the same time that I was learning so many things about what was human and what makes us human, I was looking for God. I searched, searched and searched. I looked in the bible, in the church, in retreats, camps and vigils but I didn’t find Him in any of these places. And then I started to arrive at the following conclusion: that the relationship with the divine is something so personal that it is certainly within us. I started to search within myself for the relationship I was looking for and approached an idea of spiritual independence. Gradually and with a lot of reflection, therapy and self-care I have sought to improve myself as a person and in my relationships and to reformulate my faith.
But it is in fact a conflict. A conflict occurs when two opposing forces point in the same direction, such as: I have a desire for women, being a woman at the same time that I do everything to make sure that doesn’t happen, because I believe I can’t or that it’s wrong. It’s confusing and it hurts a lot, I know. This can be a sexual conflict, and there are still many others. But we can overcome them.
I learned and I am still learning that life is almost never a dichotomy, it is almost never right and wrong, good or bad, black and white, it is diverse, it is colorful and it is infinite. I usually say that since there are more than 7 billion people in the world, there must certainly be more than 7 billion possibilities and ways of being, of existing and of loving. Among so many possibilities, we don’t have to choose between two. I believe that we will not always need to choose one over the other. It is possible to find a middle ground, a balance. I did not leave my faith to live my sexuality nor the other way around, I am working to find a way to live with both of them because these two instances of life, like so many others, make up who I am and made me get here. We don’t need to deny or renounce who we are since this does not hurt us nor does it hurt others. There are several parallel universes, we will all find one. My faith also consists of this, being part of a possible universe for all forms of existence and it also helps me to produce a sense of life and living.
Now start the process of sharing with my friends about who I am and have already found a community here where I am accepted. Gradually and gradually, in my time I have gone less to the church I have been attending for almost 8 years and integrating into another community. I have been practicing spiritual independence. Also therapy, yoga and many hot baths. My wish is that everyone can find in themselves infinite reasons to be proud and sensitive and positive ways of relating in an identical way, so that from then on they can start transforming the place they live in into a proper environment for our identity and as these relationships and interactions.