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Hi there, I haven’t come out to any of my family members but I knew I was gay way back when I was in 7th grade. I just wanted to share that I have a girlfriend now, for the first time ever. I couldn’t tell my family for obvious reasons but this community feels like family to me so yeah 🙂
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.
All of my life I’ve known I like girls, even since I was just a little kid. But it didn’t matter to me that much because, as a kid I didn’t realize what that exactly meant. But then I got older… and as many other people must identify with (specially in latin countries): struggling with the fact that I come from a “macho culture” country as Guatemala, growing in an evangelical family, religious closed-minded-violent society, being the daugther of a respectable Doctor known by a lot of people, and belonging to a respectable family… and so on… those things over the years made me just (as Dominique wrote) suppress it, to the point that, for many years I tried to convince myself that it was absolutely not acceptable and I had to change and hopefully someday God would have enough mercy on me to change me, and if it didn’t happen, then I must just stay single for the rest of my life instead of having a homosexual relationship. Because it was not a good thing for my family, it was not a good thing in God’s eyes, because it is just wrong… and still at the eve of my 36’s I struggle so hard with those thoughts (that I know are not okay)… because that’s what I was taught.
Too many years have passed and.. yeap, I still like women, more than ever, and I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I definitely don’t have the same perception of life that I had 10, 15 or 20 years ago. And it makes me so sad to think that I have wasted so many years of my life where I could have just enjoyed and lived my sexuality freely without caring of what others would say, or think, but I’m working on it now, I think it’s never too late.
My coming out story though is not a happy one, back in 2009 I met a beautiful lady at work (we knew each other by sight only, from church and because our families also were old acquaintances… just imagine that). We started dating and we fell in love so deeply, we were together for almost 5 years, but of course we kept it secret for obvious reasons, even when we were not that young anymore (she was 28 and I 26) we were still so scared, we shared the same background, so at least, being with someone who understood the situation so well was kind of a comfort. Anyways, one day her brother (a total a.h.) saw us kissing and told their parents, and their parents talked to my parents, and as if we were children, they met to decide what they were going to do about it… that was the breaking point to our relationship, we tried to stay together but it got just so hard to confront them (not to mention, she had a daughter and it made it so much difficult)… well… just not to extend on this, we finally broke up. Didn’t speak for years… she got married last year and I’m still single.
I’m about to turn 36 and even when I came out to my friends a long time ago, and all of them were very supportive… the situation with my family injured my heart and soul, so deep, and since we were never that open with each other, my parents and I never talked about the subject after that incident. So it felt like it never happened, and if it made them feel calmed, that was enough for me. My two sisters, thank God have been such a bleesing, they’ve been my supporting point, otherwise I would’ve gone crazy.
And well… why now? Why am I deciding to write this down? I’ve never talked to anyone about all this… and so many things have happened in the last years, that I just feel overwhelmed, but the breaking point to me was on last december, when I lost my mom due to cancer, since then, I’ve been having so many regrets, because back in those days when they found out I was a lesbian, she was so hurt that she didn’t talk to me for a couple of weeks, and I tried to understand and not being angry at her, and she wrote me a letter (that I still keep with me) asking me to open up to her and talk to her about my feelings… and I never did, because I felt so guilty and bad, and I just didn’t want to hurt her more, I mean, I mistakenly thought she had more important things to worry about, I was a grown up girl after all so I just decided to deal with it on my own… and now I realize I should have done it… maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone. Maybe, having done it many years earlier, I wouldn’t have to go through that painful stage of my life where I just found comfort in alcohol and trying to stay away from home… I mean, it wasn’t their fault after all.
And here I stand, trying to take babysteps on being brave enough to embrace my true self, and living my life the way it makes me happy… trying to get rid of the religious ideas implanted on me, trying to find that confidence to open up to my dad (who is and has always been a good man and a good father… but old fashioned)… and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take me, but I finally decided, it’s time to stop suppressing, it’s time to start being myself around my people… I’m still so so scared of hurting my father and dissappointing him, but I just can’t keep living like this anymore. So I’m doing this for me.
I apologyze if I’m not so eloquent in my writing, but I just took this space as a liberating point of all the things I carry with me, don’t even know if someone’s going to read it, but I just needed to get it out of my head for a change.
Blessings to everyone.
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.
So, here it goes.
I can’t really remember the exact moment when I found I was “different”. But, I knew at some point of high school I realized that something in me was pretty much diverted from what the society perceives as “right”.
At first it scared me. I knew for a fact that I like boys. But at the same time, get attacted to girls. I was starting to get frightened about the fact that I’m slowly being pulled towards a kind of liking that my conservative, Catholic family wouldn’t like.
So, I made sure I supressed whatever “bad” feelings I was experiencing then. I made sure to be in a relationship with what is “conventional”.
That was in high school, and later my first two years in college. I was In and out of relationships with “boys”. I was trying my best to cure whatever it is that’s bugging me for years, and years now.
Ironically, the medicine I thought would help me was just making everything worse. I ruined friendships. I ruined myself. I was slowly being devoured by the very thing I thought would save me.
Now when I graduated from college, I persude my passion in teaching Literature. I became a teacher, and met the love of my life; a girl. But, the thing is, I was never out. And that every unwanted feeling that I’ve been hiding for a decade suddenly surfaced because of her.
We became a couple. It was a secret. A beautiful secret but by the time we were about to celebrate our first year anniversary, things went downhill.
One of my colleagues outed me. She saw our texts, and she outed me to our principal. I didn’t know what to do then. I was called to his office, and gave me an ultimatum. You see, this school is a sectarian school. Grounded by traditional rules. In short, if you’re a girl, who’s into both genders, and has a girlfriend, you out.
I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. And I made the stupidest decision; I boke up with my love. And it was terrible.
All these feelings, I kept them all in the dark til I watched Wynonna Earp. I’ve always cried during that scene where Waverly’s aunt tells here that there surprises that come our way, in what, or who we meet. Right there and there I knew, I was not alone.
In the character of Waves, I felt at home. I realized I wasn’t alone. That what I feel, that fear of being judged, is normal.
My ex is currently happy with her new girlfriend,. And, I am happy for her too.
As for me, I am just happy that I am not alone in this battle.
To be able to fall in love with anyone, regardless of their gender, their social standing, how they look, how they talk.
I guess, the best way to end this confession is by telling everyone that when we love, we love. That’s that.
Love is love. No matter what.
This is me.
I am QUEER af.
And I’m out.
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 supportive 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!
I knew I was queer when I was 20. I fell pretty hard for this girl in a summer program I was in while in undergrad but I didn’t let myself admit it for a long time. I came out to myself at 23. For me when I finally let myself admit that I was queer there was this moment where I looked back at my previous relationships and realized all those girls I wanted to be “super best friends” with were crushes. I could admit why I was always seeking out TV shows and movies and anything I could get my hands on that had queer representation in it. A few weeks later I called my friends and came out to them. I told them I was bi but as I’ve come to understand myself more I feel like queer or gay fits better. My friends have been supportive and wonderful. I haven’t been able to come out to my parents yet, but will at some point. They are fairly conservative and right now they are still responsible for much of my financial stability while I’m in graduate school. I’m 26 now and gender stuff has been coming up for me recently. I don’t really know what it is or how I identify gender wise all the time but I’m okay with that. I don’t need to nail it down or put a label on it. I still deal with a lot of shame and internalized homophobia that I don’t always know how to process but I’m working on being proud of who I am. It’s a lot of work and will probably be something I will always have to work on. In the meantime I’m becoming more comfortable with my gender expression and have created a space I can be myself with friends.
Maybe when I’m 12 or 13. I used to like to chatting with girls. I used to have strong feelings. And then I know, it is love.
I got caught by my parents. And they were so dissapointed with me. Thats makes me so sad. But, I need to accept that. Cause the country where I live now, still cant accept LGBTQ.
So, I still hide it until now.
I adore you so much with your work, with your passion, with your kindness. Do more for other. There will be a lot of ppl out there that need to be encourage.
I’m sorry my story is pretty long. Please feel free to edit as you will. I sent the wrong one yesterday. If you’re going to upload this please use this instead. Thanks!
Title: Yes I am, Undo Me and Ghost
My name is Sheelagh. I was born and raised in the Philippines. I grew up Christian with a mixture of Catholicism. My family is well-known in the Filipino-Chinese community. Both sides of the family are well-to-do. My grandparents built a Evangelical church next door because of his faith. Among my family’s businesses, we distributed Christian music in the Philippines. My Christian upbringing was certainly a very important part of my life.
My story begins in Kindergarten. This was the first time I felt the feeling of “being different.” I had a crush on my teacher. The older I got, I would always notice the girls in my class. However, I did not understand any of this. I didn’t know if there was a word to describe who or what I am.
When I was 5th grade, I remember being in a car with my entire family. My older sister asked my parents the pivotal question that kept me in the closet for the longest time. She asked: “What is something your children would do that you would not be able to forgive us for?” After a long pregnant pause, my mom replied, “If I found out one of my four children is gay/homosexual.” I went to the dictionary and found out what the word homosexual meant. Okay, now I had a word to describe who I and what I am. If I come out, my parents will never forgive me for it. I remember thinking to myself, “that’s great. I will just keep this information to myself.”
In 7th grade, I walked into a music store and asked the salesperson if she had any recommendations for me. I wanted something new, alternative and different. She introduced me to Melissa Etheridge. Something in the lyrics of her songs spoke to my soul. I was able to come out to myself and say “Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yes, this is who I am.” For years, I went to sleep listening to all her albums at night.
When I was a Sophomore in high school, a friend came out to me. I stopped talking to her after that conversation. I stopped hanging out with her. She eventually left school and went to the US to finish high school. I still feel bad about this. I hurt her because I was not ready to face that part of myself.
My parents were very strict. We were not allowed sleep-overs. We were not allowed to go to parties until we were 18.
By college, I became active with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was at church almost every day of the week. I attended a prayer group on Tuesday. I joined a Bible study on Wednesday. I attended youth group on Friday and Saturday. And I was in church on Sunday.
In 2004, I watched the movie, “Saving Face” starring Joan Chen, Lynn Chen and Michelle Krusiec. For the first time, I saw myself on screen. It was my first exposure to positive lesbian representation on film. I wish I had the courage to say the words, “妈妈，我爱你. 我也是gay.” In English, mama, I love you. I am also gay.” But I didn’t. I was too scared to have that conversation with my family or with anybody. I came out by not coming home one night. I totally regret not having
that conversation but I just didn’t know what to say or where to begin.
Things began to not go well for me after what I did.
My family got me connected with an ex-gay ministry affiliated with Exodus International. I was not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I was driven to Bible study with this group every week. My family started a Bible study at my home. When my family realized that Bible study and family discussions were going nowhere, my mom gave me an ultimatum – change now or leave the house. I was also told that if I left, I would be cut off from the family and disowned.
I chose to leave with my girlfriend at the time. My family hired a private detective and tracked me down. My parents said they wanted to talk to me. When I came to see talk to them at a hotel room, I felt trapped. I felt I was being interrogated and coerced to go the US and think about my actions. This went on for hours until I broke down and said yes. Within less than a week, I was on a plane to Florida. My parents made arrangements that I was going to stay with family there.
After 6 months, my relatives realized that after numerous discussions, things were going nowhere. I was given another ultimatum – change now or go back home. In my mind, I pictured my family was either going to lock me up/throw away the key or I was going to be forced to marry a guy.
Neither scenario was acceptable to me. I thought about what I was going to do. I realized that for me to stay in the US, I needed to give my parents an acceptable proposition. I went online and found that Exodus International had a live-in ministry/program in Wichita, KS. I figured since they want me to consider changing who I am, I think they should pay for my expenses.
I found myself in Wichita. I got accepted into the ministry. I regret my participation (about 5 years) with this organization. The people running the ministry may have good intentions. Perhaps they were concerned about the well-being of my soul. However, there was no social worker on staff or anyone with religious training in their background. I was not allowed to interact with anyone outside the ministry and the church. I was not allowed to listen to music that was not pre-approved. I was not allowed to watch any television that was not pre-approved. For about half a decade, I was asked to not question their authority and just receive their message.
It totally went against everything that I believed in. I always questioned things. This really threw me off for a loop. I feel like I am still suffering from the mind games of being in this program. I went from being comfortable in my own skin to having a complex about who I am.
My only saving grace during this time was Jennifer Knapp’s music. I discovered her music while I was in the program. Her lyrics are so honest and moved me to remain open to God. The song “Undo Me” is my favorite from her album.
Undo Me became my prayer for many years. I went from being comfortable in own skin and not having any issues with my sexuality to praying that God take this away from me. I know the only way to please my family is for God to change me. There is no way I can do it on my own.
Luckily, because my family distributed Christian music in the Philippines, I was able to get all her albums sent to me. Her music gave me life while in that program. Without it, I do not know if I would have survived those years.
When I finally left the program, I was angry at God. I became promiscuous. I stopped caring about my faith. I went on downward spiral for a few years. I put myself in situations that were not healthy or positive. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to me.
Two years prior to meeting my wife, I realized this was not the life I wanted for myself. I stopped going to bars. I stopped having casual sex. I made a promise to myself. I will only consider sharing an intimate moment with somebody who I can see myself being in a serious relationship with.
Luckily, a wonderful and beautiful woman came into my life. She is now my wifey. We have two pugs, a son and a great life together. I have never been happier.
When Adaline decided to help others who have suffered religious trauma, I was excited. I am on this very journey. I need help in this area.
However, religious trauma is painful. I have not opened the Bible since leaving the ex-gay ministry. However, amazing human beings out there like Adaline and Jennifer Knapp are giving me hope. Who knew that Wynonna Earp and the community of Earpers will grow into something beyond the show and the fandom?
I am completely estranged from my family. They think the only way I can be acceptable and welcomed into the family is if I marry a guy or stay single/embrace celibacy for the rest of my life. It hurts when we talk because they always ask me how I am doing as if I am unmarried. When I share information about my life they act like I didn’t say anything.
Being part of this community has been a great source of hope and healing for me. I feel so blessed and honored to have read all your stories. Thank you for sharing because you make me feel like I am not alone.
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
