Ashanti
I haven’t come out to anyone yet. It’s a bit scary due to growing up in a very strict Christian household. But I’m hoping when I do come out, I’ll still be loved.
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I haven’t come out to anyone yet. It’s a bit scary due to growing up in a very strict Christian household. But I’m hoping when I do come out, I’ll still be loved.
I always knew that I was not like other girls, from the age of 8 when I liked my best friend. Nothing else happened until the years passed, at the age of 14 I was experiencing my sexuality, with fear and alone. One day I bravely told my mother, that I liked girls, she was so angry and forbade me from seeing my friends and took me to the psychologist. My soul was broken knowing that she was never going to accept me, it was a difficult time, when I was 16 I stopped going to the psychologist and spoke with my most close friends, who thanks to heaven, supported me and never left me alone. It took time but now I accept myself as I am, a woman who likes women and men. I am 20 years old right now, I wonder if someday I will be able to be happy, if I will be able to be myself with my family that is so homophobic, I would like to be who I am 24/7 and not just with my friends. I wish that the world was not so cruel with its labels and that my family accepts me, me, who only wants to love and be loved.
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
I’ve always been terrified to accept myself and i’ve never been truly comfortable with who i am. It all started to get a little fuzzy around the age of 11, i was attracted to a girl, and i was so confused about who i was. No one else in my school were part of the LGBTQ+, well none were out anyway, so i felt alone. I remember thinking to myself that it would just go away, that i just thought she was pretty. A year later i had told everyone i was straight and that it was just a phase and i don’t know what was going through my mind. Now, aged 14, i’m finally figuring out myself again. I’ve met some incredible people who are part of LGBTQ+ and they’ve helped me find myself. I remember that i used to look up pretty girls, and that i used to have obsessions with actresses. I found Wynonna Earp on youtube. It was nice to see a lesbian couple portrayed in an incredible show. i remember going straight to instagram, i followed every wayhaught fan page i could find, i followed the whole cast and made many pinterest boards of wayhaught. it was then i realised that i most certainly, was not straight. I’m still figuring myself out, and i hate putting labels on myself if anyone asks me. for now i’m calling myself a bi-sexual, or i like whoever i like. maybe one day i will find myself more, but i want to say thankyou for inspiring me to spread my story and show that there is nothing wrong with being something other than straight. i have faced many homophobes recently and i want to tell people that it will get better. thankyou Dom:) Xx
Where do I start ? My childhood. I was a quiet, shy and lonely girl, raised in the middle of two siblings so nobody cared about me. I was not old enough to be heard and not young enough to be understood. So I just did what I had to do : nice girl, be graduated, find a job and live with a man. Typical hetero-normal life until I met this woman at 28 years old. She was so beautiful, so gay, so engaged and so not interested by me. But it was too late I was hooked.
I spent so many sleepless nights asking myself why… not why this gorgeous unsensitive woman… no, why NOW ??? Why not 15 years earlier ? Why not with my Best friend ? Why at the worst moment of my life ? So many why-s for one obvious Because : because life is a constant challenge, it sucks, it is hard and complicated all the time. Life is such a journey, you don’t understand everything in the moment. Life is also full of joy and beautiful people if you know where to look.
And because of course you felt for other girls and women before but you didn’t know what it was…
A couple of years before I started to question about my sexuality, my cousin died. We grew up together, he was my other half, we were different and similar at the same time. I played sport, he played music. I teached him sport he teached me music. He was gay, I was straight. He killed himself. He could not stand to be different.
I spent all my energy to be angry, to feel guilty and sad, i was a wreck. With a useless boyfriend who thought I could grieve for one month and get back to normal. But normal never came back, I miss him every freakin’ minute, and I am about to meet a woman who will make a mess with my life.
I am still grieving and now I am gay ?? What’s next win the lottery and lose the ticket ?
“You must give up the life you planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you” (Joseph Campbell) the sentence that changed my life. So I gave up my sooo booooring straight life to focus on me and only me. Life gave me the opportunity to meet bunch of people who really looked like the Earpers community. A safe, non-judging and very gay-friendly group with whom I travelled the world. I didn’t want to in the first place but I felt home with them and it was so gooooood !!!!! So good to finally speak to someone who listens.
I came out at 30 to my Best friend and she is still the best. I didn’t came out to my parents, my girlfriend did. She thought she was the one so obviously she made decisions for me. I kept my family but not her, she was so wrong !
My family agreed with only one sentence : “if it is your choice it is okay.” That was it, we never talk about the “room-mate” sensitive subject. It is taboo even if they truly think it is not.
I know it takes time to deal with it.
I first came out fifteen years ago, when I told my best friend about a crush that was stirring up an epic inner turmoil in the way that only teenage drama can.
A year later, I told my parents that I liked girls, staring fixedly at my shoes and wishing I could disappear. Both of those memories are still so vivid, because although I received compassion and understanding in response, I felt like my whole world was turning upside down. I thought I’d changed my life forever in a single moment. I also thought that was the end of it- I was out. Spoiler alert: that wasn’t the end of it.
I have been coming out for more than half my life now. I start a new job and give my partner’s name as my emergency contact, and I come out. A new friend asks what kind of guys I like and I respond with full honesty, and I come out. Someone spots my engagement ring, we talk about wedding plans, and I come out.
I have experienced every kind of response- confusion, awkwardness, curiosity, anger, delight. It never stops, but it gets easier every time because I know I have community and I know that there is nothing wrong with me. I am proud of who I am and even prouder to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ family. My fellow queers have taught me so much about love, identity, selflessness and courage, and every time I come out I remember that, and I count myself lucky.
I realised that I was different when I was 14 years old. I grew up in a pretty strict christian family, so I was scared. I believe in god myself and that’s why I prayed every day for two years for my “problem” to go away, to “turn” straight. But at one point something was telling me that nothing was wrong with me. That I was born this way and that I should be proud of myself for what I am and what I’ve been through.
I started to tell some friends that I’m into girls and for most of them it wasn’t even a big surprise. After that I told my family. First my mother, after that my brother. The last one was my father. He was homophobic in the past so I was really afraid of telling him. But he told me that he loved me anyway und our father-daughter-relationship has never been better. He is really proud of me and of who I am today. Together, we even talk about how “complicated” women are, haha.
One day, not long after telling him that I was gay, I called him on the phone. He was driving home from work and it was the first time I told him about a girl. He said to me “I wish you could see me right now. I have tears in my eyes. I’m so happy for you and so proud.”
People can change. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes people won’t understand. But, YOU are precious and worthy, remember that! Be good to yourself. You’re not alone. We’re all in this together. It will get better!
Shows like Wynonna Earp that have LGBTQ+ characters in it really helped me getting through the rough times.
So thank you for that!
Now I’m 22 years old and still waiting for the love of my life. But I’m optimistic that I’ll find her one day.
Greetings from Germany,
Livia
For as long as I can remember I have always been attracted to girls. One of my breaking point was my first kiss in 2 grade with one of my guy best friends. I thought “EW” this is not want I want. I was young and did not understand the concept of being gay. So for years I hid that part of myself deep down inside until one day it decided to reappear, I was 14 years old. At this point in time I understood what it meant for girls to like girls. But I was afraid. I didn’t want people to think things about me. The stigma that stems from girls dressing “tomboy” means they are gay. Which was me. I have always worn boys clothes which I thought was normal! I grew up with 2 older brothers and always looked up to them! But then came in the bullies. I decided to repress my true identity again and again and again. Then years later we are finding ourselves in this unrealistic situation so bizarre, with our world so broken. But during these times I had time to ponder, ( and download TikTok which was also another breaking point in figuring out my sexuality). I finally realized that life is not to be taken for granted. We don’t know how long we have on this dying rock we call earth. So why spend it living it as someone else?
When I finally came out about 4 months ago, I felt like a weight was lifted off my chest. I could be finally be myself, proudly.
I’ve never admitted it before, ever, to anyone… I’ve spent 15 years feeling like there is something wrong with me! I am brand new to this world and to earpers and I’m blown away by the community feel. I was introduced just a few weeks ago after reading Dom’s birthday post and after reading it I related so much. I was so inspired by her words. I related to the feelings of suppression and putting the part of me I knew to be true to the back of my mind to pretend it didn’t exist. The part of me that I know is also attracted to woman. I’ve got that feeling where my tummy is doing flips by even just typing it. Because I’ve never faced it until now.
I’ve been in heterosexual relationships my whole life and have been in my current relationship for the last 10 years. I have young children who are my everything. This is part of the question that runs through my mind, how can I be in a long term relationship with a man, be a mum and still know that I do have an attraction to woman too? Does it make me a bad person? Or a bad mum? My partner would also likely feel betrayed that I never talked about this. I don’t even know how he would feel about it. There are so many scenarios in my head.
I’m still not ready to verbalise what I am but at least I have finally admitted it to myself. Maybe over time, meeting the right people and continuing to be inspired within the STW community I will one day be at my bravest. But for now, all I know is that Dom sparked something within me to be true to myself. I’m a thirty year old bisexual.
I’m fourteen and not fully out to my family. I’m gay and I live in a small town in southern Louisiana where church is everything. There’s not much I can do physically in my community, so I help out through the internet. I use the internet to educate myself and learn strategies to fight against prejudice and cruelty against the community. I love to write so I write stories of inclusion and happy endings for LGBTQ+ people especially when I enter writing contests. I use my artistic abilities to depict non stereotypical people of the community. I try hard to unify and support others when I come across them on the internet. I support and reach out to other, especially younger, people in the lgbtq+ community. I’ve had several people come out to me because I was the only gay person they knew. I tried my absolute best to reassure and to give hope to them and point them in the right direction. Being that person, the person who others feel comfortable to come to with such an important part of themselves, is one of the highlights of my life. A lot of the time I feel alone, but helping others makes me realize that I don’t want others to feel that way, I want to be the person that changes that for them. I’m proud of the person I am and the people I’m helping others become. The internet can be a scary and cruel place, but I hope to make it a little bit better one step at a time.