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I’m queer (bi). I madly love my girlfriend, with whom I live. We are raising her son. We love, we are happy. But, our parents (both her and mine) do not recognize our feelings and deny them. We want our parents to know that their children are happy.
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
Growing up in England I was abused by my grandma and mum. I don’t remember a time in my early childhood when I wasn’t looking outside the family for a “mother figure”. Growing up my dad told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, just not gay.
I came to America at 20 and went through 9.5 years of counselling to free myself from my past. For a long time I had wondered if I was gay or still just looking for a mother figure like I had in childhood. At the end of years of counselling and with my past behind me, I was able to say definitively: I am gay!
Then I had to tell my homophobic dad…he and my step-mum were stopping in LA for a few days on their way back to the UK from NZ. I went to my dad’s hotel and asked if I could speak to him alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick to my stomach. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to him for days. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I was very, very, VERY happily gay, then gave the biggest smile I could muster. He stared at me and started crying. I told him everything would be okay. He drank 5 PINTS of gin and tonic at the bar that night, and the next night.
He returned to England and I didn’t hear from him for 6 weeks. Then I got a 9 page, hand written letter in the mail from him. He wrote that I had crushed his dreams of me marrying a strapping American man who I would have kids with that would grow up to play rugby for England. My 3 1/2 year old nephew had died earlier that year and my dad compared me coming out to the death of his only grandson. It was devastating beyond words.
That was 12 years ago. 7 years ago I started watching “The Fosters” and 4 years ago I started watching “Wynonna Earp”. Both had positive queer representation with no strings attached. I realised through watching these shows that any lingering elements of self hatred were not mine, they were imposed feelings from others that I had taken on as my own.
I knew then that I could only be responsible for my personal truth and living my life in the most authentic way, no matter what. I would lead by example, I had NOTHING to be ashamed of.
I boldly introduced my dad to my then-girlfriend and he was amazingly accepting and positive. He could finally see how happy I was and after all I went through growing up, he knew I deserved happiness.
Today my dad has come full circle. Not only does he embrace who I am and is so proud of me for fighting so hard for the life I have, he also told me at my sister’s wedding that when the time comes, he would want to walk me down the aisle too.
Coming out wasn’t easy, but not being true to who I am was a WHOLE lot harder. I am happier with who I am now more than at any other time in my life!
My life was normaI, my parents split when I was around 10, but it honestly didn’t make much of a difference to me! I guess from an early age I figured out that things don’t last and people can’t stay together for the wrong reasons, like my parents were. I didn’t think much about anything quite honestly and I didn’t until I was around 16. I did the usual stuff, hanging round with my mates, getting into trouble, got arrested a few times from generally just being a dick! (Nothing sinister) I would get drunk a lot, do a few drugs and just generally have a good time. I felt like something wasn’t right with me, so me doing what I do best and trying to cover it up and hide it, I continued being a dick. There were a lot of lads I used to hang round with, it was one of them when literally everyone had pretty much been with everyone in the group, not particularly sexual, but we’d all had a few drunken moments. The girls, well the majority just liked boys which would lead to the odd scrap and nasty words, but we were all mates and in time we all forgot about our problems. One day I met a girl at a house party, obviously there was drink involved and she was smashed, really really bad. She grabbed me by my arm dragged me into the bathroom and started telling me how she felt differently, how she kind of liked me in a different way to her other friends. I thought she was drunk so got her some water, held her hair as she threw up in the bath and then basically looked after her. She started to sober up and decided to kiss me, I found it weird at first, firstly because she was drunk and secondly because she was a girl. My head was spinning and my heart was racing, so I bailed, went to get one of her mates and then I left. All night I was fighting with myself trying to figure out what had just happened and how she was drunk and clearly didn’t know what she was doing, but for the first time in forever I actually felt something the moment she kissed me. Anyway, a few weeks later she invited us all over to her house again for another party, I tried to avoid her and just keep out of her way, felt like the right thing to do and the easiest option to avoid any sort of awkwardness or risk anyone else finding out. I was outside in the garden and she came up to me, I literally froze wanted to run for the hills but thought it was unfair as she probably felt the same way I did. She was sober this time and I was kind of sober. She asked if we could go for a walk and have a chat and I agreed, after a while we stopped and she held my hand and just came out with it, she said that she couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss and me and wanted to try again just to see if it was the alcohol talking. So we kissed again, she told me that this was the first time she’d kissed a girl (apart from our first disaster of a kiss) but that it felt so right and that she wanted to spend some time with me again, alone. I literally ran away from her, ignored her texts, her calls, everything! I couldn’t be gay, there was no way!! I liked boys and only boys! Or at least that’s what I made myself believe for years!! Eventually she moved away, made my life a lot easier, I liked her a lot but couldn’t let anyone know that,particularly her! I got with lads, had a few relationships which lasted around 5 minutes considering I wasn’t the relationship type and enjoyed going solo. And then I met a girl from work, straight away I fancied her, she was beautiful, funny and we got on really well! I was seeing a lad at the time and I liked him or maybe I just liked him being there when I was pissed off or just wanted to get away from my head. Me and another mate got invited to another party, the usual happened, we had a good time and then… she walks in, the girl from work. She looked stunning, I pretended I didn’t see her and carried on. Early hours of the morning Everyone was either asleep, gone home or with someone else. I started to sober up and me and this girl started chatting, we were having a laugh and then literally out of nowhere I went in for the kiss, I shocked myself, couldn’t believe what I had just done. But she smiled and kissed me back, we must of been there just kissing for hours. I had to leave and get ready for work, hungover to fuck and having to deal with people all day made me want to cry she was in on the shift after me, I was terrified at how she would react. Would she ignore me? would she be awkward? The time came when it was time to go home, I just smiled and left. Then I got a message, she wanted to know why I was being awkward and if what had happened the night before would affect our friendship and obviously I ignored it once I had pulled my head out of my arse, we decided to hang around quite a bit, and we decided that we would be in a relationship but that no one could know because we were embarrassed of what people would think. This went on for 7 years!! I constantly cheated on her with boys and the odd girl, I had to be straight!! What if people would take the piss out of us, what if they would be really nasty to her? After all she was the sensitive type, where I was/am the type to give it back. Being with her, for the first time I felt love, I knew I loved her but couldn’t tell her, I think she knew I did, she just knew I couldn’t say it. Our “relationship” if that’s what it was ended slowly, we saw less and less of eachother which was sad and then it just kind of stopped. She would message me from time to time, but I just couldn’t reply, I suppose I was hurt looking back on it now!! Even after them 7 years, I still didn’t want to believe I liked women, so again I got with boys and again the odd girl. There were so many times when I could have something real you know?! But I just couldn’t give myself to them fully, I was struggling with my head- again! The anxiety and depression kicked in and I just wasn’t the person I used to be, I wouldn’t talk to my friends, I wouldn’t go out, I wouldn’t talk to my family. I just drifted, I was lost!! I’ve met an amazing women and we’ve been together for nearly 4 years, but I’m drifting back in to that old pattern. I’m not the person she needs right now and honestly I don’t know how I can be, I’m lost again!! She is so patient with me, so kind and so loving, but I just can’t reciprocate it. I’m lost again!! I thought maybe I was gay and that was that, but now I’m not so sure!! My story has just begun and I’m nowhere near the person I want to be, but actually writing it down and being able to say all the things I’ve been battling with for years has really helped! If there is one thing I’ve learnt from all this, it’s that you have to be yourself! Gay, Bisexual, pansexual, whatever, whoever you are, you have to be yourself!! If there is anything that 2020 has taught us, it’s that crazy and unexpected things can happen! People have lost the people they love, people are losing the people they love and do you really want to go out, when it’s your time regretting things that you could have done or could have said? Because I know that’s not how it’s happening with me! I’m going to finally sort my shit out and be who I really am! It may take some time and I’m afraid it may hurt people at the time, but you can’t hide who you really are, otherwise what is the whole point in all this heartbreak? Be you! Not who someone else wants you to be! If you like girls then good for you, if you like boys then good for you and if you like both then you’re greedy like me just be yourself, because I know I’m going to be! whatever that may bring with it!! Peace
I was about 17 when I realised. I developed a crush on not 1 but on a group of 3 girls on the bus. 2 of them were sisters. I didn’t have a big coming out, not even with my parents, but I grew up in a place and around people that I knew wouldn’t have a problem with it. The first time I did actually tell my mom was right before I was going live on a radio show. My mom NEVER listened to the radio but that night of all nights she was. So I figured I would give her a little heads up I was going to be on the radio. So I ran into her bedroom and yelled “I’m going to be on the radio!” and then ran back out just to run back in and yell “to talk about my bisexuality!” I didn’t give her time to respond and she never actually did but I knew she was gonna be okay with it otherwise I wouldn’t have done that. Now we’re so many years later, changed a bit (or a lot) and I’ve come to the realisation I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a man and can only see myself in a serious relationship with a woman. The older I got, the less I was interested in men to not at all anymore. Which is also why I identify as gay, because I don’t want to give myself a specific label like lesbian or bisexual. I’m happy with being gay.
Im only 15 and I’ve known since I was about 9 or 10. I’ve known for years but I came out to my friends and close family in early 2019. For me it was just noticing little things like in movies I could never keep my eyes of the girl although I found the guy good-looking, I always found myself matching myself with a girl from the movies like ‘what happened if me and her were together’. I was curious, but then I got a crush on a girl in my grade and I knew that well I’m not straight. My parents kind of figured out and they weren’t that surprised. But my brother accidentally outed me to my parents. It was funny. But I thought I was bi but it changes all the time so I decided to stick to fluid cause I don’t need a label. I love who I want to love. I don’t really care what you are x
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.
Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.
First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.
Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.
Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.
Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.
Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.
Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!
Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…
Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.
Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”
Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”
There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.
I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.
Growing up I was taught “God didn’t make us to be gay”, but now I’m an atheist so I say fuck the rules.
When I turned 14 I was met with the biggest challenge in my adolescent life ‘love’, I was told from a very young age that I will one day have my first crush and my first kiss with a boy I really like, but instead that ‘boy’ was changed into Rachel Lewis, a girl in my grade who stole my pens and my heart, she helped me accept a part of me I never thought I would and that was the fact that I was queer.
Rachel was a pretty toxic person to have a crush on, she played with my head, was super bipolar and ignored me for no reason other than the fact that she was bored. But even though she was a condescending bitch, a really pretty condescending bitch might I add, when we were talking about how we were in love with our English teacher every bad thing she had done just disappeared.
When I was 14, I assumed I was a lesbian, because of my lack of interest in boys at the time and my love for Katie McGrath, but then I later realized that……
I’m Bisexual
I think the reason I was so quick to diagnose myself with ‘lesbian’ was because of the lack of representation and understanding I had of bisexuals. I hear people talk about internalized homophobia, but this was internalized biphobia.
When I hit the ripe age of 16, I experienced for the first time, Homophobia and from my own mother, she had found out I was Bi by going through my messages, I was yelled at, hit, had my hair grabbed and dragged across the floor, I felt completely helpless.
But then I woke up
My body was in pain and my head hurt and at that moment I felt truly alone. My mother moved me to Australia with my Aunt forcing me to leave behind my friends, my sisters and Rachel Lewis.
This was a year ago and I still have the scar of that beating I got physically and mentally, I love my mum and am still in contact with her, I call her constantly and miss her a lot.
The part of her that doesn’t hate me deep down for being bi
I’m still in the closet with everyone. I haven’t had a girlfriend or boyfriend, yet which is depressing but writing this gives me a false sense of freedom I can only get from coming out, so I’ll say this once
If its love, fuck the rules
I’m Bisexual and proud
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.
I have turned 20 only a few months ago, but it took me some time to identify and accept who I am: a proud lesbian.
When I was around 12, I talked with a girl who were a few years older than me and who was bisexual. My first question (once I learned what it was from her), was: “How did you know?”
For me, who didn’t even know that heterosexuality wasn’t the only sexuality existing, it was a chock! Her answer gave me the final electroshock I needed: “I just know”.
She just knew! What an answer for the young girl that I was! And from this point, I started thinking. I remembered all the times were I looked at girls, all the times I wanted to be close to them, all the times I had feel things that I didn’t know how to interpret when I looked at some of my friends… And then I compared it with how I was reacting to boys, especially the ones that I dated (even if, well, dating at 12 years old isn’t much more than holding hands and playing video games). The more I thought about it the more I realized that even the fact of holding the hand of my boyfriend was something that gave me goose bumps, and not the right kind.
A few years passed, and when I started high school I still didn’t accepted myself as a lesbian. I had only decided to hide this, even if I didn’t really know about homophobia and all. I wanted to be like everyone else, not different. And it wasn’t exactly as if a lot of cartoon characters were queer when I grew up, so the only person that I knew was queer was the bisexual girl from when I was 12! What a great representation of diversity!
But, one day, I just couldn’t hide the truth to myself anymore: I was having a mega crush on my best friend! Very soon I told her, and even if it was a little difficult for me to live with that, she totally accepted me. And it was the first step of my coming-out.
At first, I still didn’t really accept that I was a lesbian, so, I decided to tell my friends that I was bisexual. Like that I could still hide the part of me that loved girls… and I started dating boys again. Not my best idea since the few kiss that I had with them made me so mentally sick that I couldn’t be close to a guy in the next months without frowning ! (Yeah I must have been dramatic too, but hey, what do you expect from a queer artistic woman?). Anyway, I quickly realized after that, that boys weren’t at all what I wanted.
From there, I decided to tell my friends that I was a lesbian. They all accepted me and supported me. And it was so freeing to finally admit it! It didn’t mean that I was really “proud” of it. My friends knew it, but I didn’t want other people to know.
Then, I told my parents, who were totally supportive, and I’ll always remember my mom saying: “Yeah, I never pictured you coming home with a guy. I guess I just knew”.
I was 18 and my friends and parents knew who I was, they supported me, but me I had still issues with this. I had to wait to enter to university and to meet with new friends, who were all queer, to really admit and be proud of my sexuality. I met with all kind of person who had other genders and sexualities than what I had knew my whole life. They accepted me, and seeing them this free and proud just made it easier for me to feel the same way.
I’m 20 now, and I’m a proud out lesbian. Well, out, yes and no. I don’t really fell like my coming-out is really over, because they’re still two people at whom I haven’t said anything: my grandparents. I know that they’re homophobic and absolutely non-supportive of difference. We already have a complicated relationship, and I’m afraid of telling them this about me, because I’m pretty sure that it would mean the end of our relationship…
So yeah, I’m proud of who I am and don’t hide it anymore. I’m glad to be in the light and to be out, but I know that I haven’t really finished my coming-out journey. Telling my grandparents will be my last step in order to completely be honest about all this.
If I have learned something from all of this is that no matter who you are, if you aren’t ready, you don’t have to come into the light. All that matters is to do it at your own rhythm, step by step. Coming-out is the most freeing experience of my life, and I’m glad that I had to do it in order to be who I am today, but it isn’t something that must be forced on you: you just have to take your time and do it when you’re ready.
