Community Rainbow Waves

Queer

Looking back at my sexual awakening. I always knew I was ‘different’ but didn’t fully understand what meant. I thought at first my feelings towards women had to be wrong because of what happened to me when I was 14 with a trusted female adult. Those feelings were tied to shame. A shame that I am now beginning to deal with and understand. Then of course being bullied about being queer growing up- it forced me want to bury any of those feelings and never let them surface. Then when I finally, sort of started to acknowledge my feelings towards woman; it was with a woman that physically assaulted me- more than once. I always blamed myself and thought if liking a woman means some sort of trauma happens, I don’t want a part of it. So back to hiding I went. It wasn’t until I was 23 when I realized I couldn’t keep hiding this part of me and had to see what it meant. That is when I gathered some courage and asked out my kickboxing instructor. I got shot down but it was because she was already in a relationship. She didn’t let me leave feeling discourage. She introduced me to the queer community. I met so many great people who were welcoming and comfortable with who they are. I had my first healthy female relationship and I knew there was no going back after that. Despite the cruel things that would happen walking down the street holding hands. The pain of hiding my truth was more painful than the pain my traumas had caused.

After awhile of just accepting and exploring this part of myself. I decided to tell my sister, who was overall supportive but thought it was a phase. My Dad asked if I was gay because I was living in a city. Like somehow a city turned me gay? I wasn’t sure how to unpack that question. He also thought it was a phase and I just needed to get it out of my system. When I told my childhood friend about this part of me, she forcibly tried to kiss me. When I denied her, she was like, “see you aren’t attracted to women”. Holy terrifying. I knew that was a completely inaccurate statement to make and that she didn’t understand.
My family and friends had only ever known me to be in relationships with guys. I didn’t know I needed to choose. I knew I was attracted to both sexes. It confused me too. Eventually, I realized that I am attracted to guys and can be with guys but I feel a deeper connection when I am with women. Once I realized that part of me, it was much easier to communicate and accept my sexuality.
Things aren’t always going to make sense or be easy but never let it stop you from your truth. Know that in the what seems like the darkest of times there is always a light, even if you have to look really hard for it.

My chest comes out

I knew from a very young age that I liked girls, and the truth was something that terrified me.
Luckily I have had some very nice friends who have given me their support, my family has no problems with LGBTIQ+ people, but I haven’t come out of the wardrobe either because I don’t feel it’s the right time to do so.

The problem has never been what I like, but how I feel.

I have memories of when I was a child and I never felt attached to the things that were supposed to be for my sex, I just didn’t feel comfortable being what a woman is supposed to be. So when I started to notice my chest growing, I just started to shut down.

My first boyfriend was FTM, hearing him talk about how he felt was comfortable for me, I even thought “Maybe I’m like that too, maybe I’m a guy” but after going around and around that idea I realized that no, my only problem has always been my breast.

But it’s just in these times of quarantine that I’ve had the most time to question what I want to be, or rather, who I am.

My identity problem has made me move away from my friends, simply because I don’t want to bring them into this subject, and not knowing what’s happening to me, it’s not easy for me to talk about it, nor do I feel that I should bring them into my internal struggle.

So writing this here, which I am sure and confident is a free space, is comforting and even liberating.

I just keep swimming and losing myself in my thoughts, trying to discover and learn more about myself, hoping that I am not the only person with this kind of “dysphoria”.
Maybe I just have to be me and ignore it, appreciate what I have and love myself as I am, it’s hard, but I can’t sink.

Cristina, Bisexual, scientist in the making, 24

I think I’ve known who I really am my whole life, but it wasn’t until I went to college that I really found my community, 4 out of 5 of my best friends identify as queer, so it’s very ease to feel comfortable around them. When I was 20 years old, I met the woman that would become my first love. It took me awhile to realize that I loved her, but as soon as I was sure of it, I decided to tell my parents and brothers. I actually couldn’t find the words to do it, so my dad step up and asked me If I was in love with her, so I told them I was. My brothers were really supportive and acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, but for my parents was a little difficult, especially because I wasn’t telling them that I only like women, but that I also still like men, that was really confusing for them. It has been almost 3 years since that day, and she is still my girlfriend, my parents and brothers love her, she knows almost my entirely family (In Chile, we are use to have like 6 uncles/aunties and like 10 cousins, so it’s a big deal), although, only my closest family knows she is my girlfriend even though I don’t hide it (in social media or real life), so that is the next step for me, to be more vocal and more awarely proud of who I am and who I love.

Truth

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

Lula

i never really questioned my sexuality, i just assumed i was straight, but was always disgusted at the thought of dating a boy and i never understood why. near the end of year 9, this boy liked me , and i thought he was funny but couldn’t establish the difference between whether it was a crush or a friendship. all of my friends told me that i had a crush on him and that i liked him, so i just kinda went with it- nothing happened though because i didn’t want it to. that set me back quite a bit. in the summer holidays at the end of year 9, i came to terms with my sexuality through adelaide kane, rachel skarsten, and sarah paulson and the shows they were in. i made an instagram editing account and it was my happy place, but i still didn’t feel free with my sexuality on there as i was afraid of being judged. i then watched wynonna earp in the december of 2018 (the same year). i fell in love with wayhaught and waverly earp. i then made a group of internet friends through the fan base who quickly became my second family and supported me no matter what. through earpers and the cast members, i finally felt like i could be myself and built up the courage to come out to 3 of my friends from school. over the past year and a bit, i have gradually come out to more and more of my closest friends, the majority also happening to have later come out to me as well (i guess gays attract lmao). i suppose i should identify as a lesbian because i am a woman who solely likes women, but hearing that word still makes me uncomfortable for some reason, so i prefer to just tell people i’m gay. i’m still nowhere near ready to come out to my family, due to the fact that my dad, auntie, and all my grandparents would probably disown me, but i am happy with myself and my sexuality.

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Lesbian

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.

I came out when I was 14 years of age, 13 years ago, most of my family were accepting, though a few were not. Some still not to this day, but have been a little more accepting through the years. Shockingly for me the older generation in the family were more supportive than the younger, excluding my dad. My dad was not accepting at first, it come to the point where I didnt have any contact with my dad for over two years.. due to the fact that when I was in my late teens he actually tried to pay me to be with a boy! As you could tell that was a big no. Thankfully my dad is 100% supportive of me now and we have a great relationship. Many people ask me how I could forgive him? My reply.. whats the point in holding on to something bad, when hes sorry and I’ve had many more happy memories shared with him. I have had many struggles in life many battles I have fought, the most hardest was being told I was confused because I was sexually assaulted from the age of 12 to 14, “your not gay, your just traumatised”, i always new from a young age, the first time I kissed a girl, 9 years of age (practising) like kids did. My happest memory of coming out was actually only 2 years ago, to my great grandfather, I was always told not to say anything as he was old and wouldn’t understand, i was very close with my grampa so, when he was 93 I came out to him, he did not judge me what so ever he just told me about the time he met my great grandmother, and told me it doesn’t matter who you love, it doesn’t matter how much you fight, if you love you them don’t ever let them go . That conversation was one of the last conversations I had with him. Its a conversation that I hold dear to me and one people should listen to.

Megan

I truly believe that stories are the way we connect and reflect the bravery, challenges, love, and fear that is this human experience.

I knew I was attracted to girls at the age of seven/eight. Because I had feeling for my friend – I couldn’t name the feeling and it didn’t feel wrong in any way. My friend would sit on my lap and I’d feel so much love for her. As time went on, I released this was not ‘normal’ and no other girls were talking about girls but only boys, so I ignored my feeling for girls for years and years.

I lived in a small town in South Africa and I literally felt like the only gay in the village. If there was any mention of LGBTQI people, it was always in disgust and a negative light. So I was terrified about my feelings. I felt so alone, scared and confused. And then at university (in this small town), I started falling in love with my best friend and it was unbearable. I slipped into a deep depression and started taking antidepressants.

And then something magical happened, I found Youtube but more specifically a LGBTQ channel on Youtube called ‘The Beaver Bunch’ and for the first time I saw real life bisexual, queer, lesbian, trans people living their lives open and proud. I think I watched every single video and keep finding more and more channels. And just like that I didn’t feel so alone and decided to come out. First I came out to the Youtube community in a video and they welcomed me with open arms, love and support. I felt so overwhelming by the support that it gave me the courage to come out to my family.

Coming out to my immediate family didn’t go as well as I had hoped, my dad and sister could care less I was gay but my mum took it hard. She was and is my rock and when I felt her pull away, it broke my heart. I can say now a decade later, she is my biggest ally and supporter.

Besides my mum, all others I came out to were supportive. I feel very blessed and haven’t experience any negative ramifications regarding my sexuality.

I’ve been out for a decades this year and in the same year I came out I met my future wife. I’ve never known a love like I love her. She’s been my best friend, soul mate, and lover for 10 years. But this year just as covid went into full swing, she at the age of 36 was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. To say it’s been a tough time is an understatement, it’s been a living nightmare. All I can do is watch the woman I love and adore fight every day to be here. We exist on the edge of hope and despair every day, and live every day for the small moments of joy that we can find.

So to end, I just want to let everyone know that at the end of the day all we have is love. And love has nothing to do with our physicality, race, gender, or sexuality – but our souls. I hope one day this world will wake up to this and embrace love as the compass the guides us. Light and love to all.

Alya

I knew I was gay when I was in 5th/6th grade. A year later I came out to my best friend, the same month I got in to psychiatry because of depression. There they forced me to come out to my mother because “it would help me”, she just said its just a phase and she didn’t believe me, while I sat next to her crying. 2018 I was on my first CSD and my stepsister picked me up. As she saw me she was like “oh but you’re not one of them, right?” and I just started giggling. Thats how I came out to her. 3 Months later my stepsis, stepmom an my dad sit in our garden and my sis told them I wanted to tell them something, which I definitely didn’t because I wasn’t ready yet, I was the whole time like “no I don’t” so my stepmom starts to ask “did you smoke” “hell no” I replied, “did you got a tattoo?” “no” are you a lesbian?” and I instantly started to cry. Thats how I came out to my Papa. One and a half year later on new years eve 2019/2020 I came out to my mom(again) my stepdad, my foster mom and dad, friends of them. Now I am OUT AND PROUD 🙂