A genderqueer Rose.
Well, I realised I was in the community when I was 15 but I’m still figuring out myself. I started coming out when I was 16 and now I just don’t really care who knows cause I love myself and that’s all you need.
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Well, I realised I was in the community when I was 15 but I’m still figuring out myself. I started coming out when I was 16 and now I just don’t really care who knows cause I love myself and that’s all you need.
I think, deep down I’ve always known. I’ve always been into the other stuff. Growing up, it was never the boys that I liked or looked up to. It was always the girls. And now, looking back. It kind of makes sense. How I always preferred Clary over Jace, and Isabelle over Simon. Although I’ve always loved Alec, but let’s face it. Who doesn’t? It’s always been Hermione, not Ron or Harry.
Only recently, I’ve come to see that, sometimes, yes, I do like boys, as well. Which came as a shock to me, because I’ve been out for close to three years now. But, my friends are the best. And when I told them I wasn’t entirely sure that I was “just” gay, all they said was that labels suck anyways and that they find them quite annoying and they themselves had struggled with that for quite some time. And I totally agree with that.
I don’t like labels. I think they suck. At least, I haven’t found one that fits. I’m just me. And I’m going to live whoever I’m going to love. And I’m going to be whoever it is that I’m going to be. Already am. And it’s great.
I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”
Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.
I had to make a choice.
So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.
The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.
I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.
Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?
But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.
I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.
Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.
But what is a “coming out story”?
I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.
What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.
And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.
Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.
Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo
I knew I was lesbian at a ripe age of 4.
But I was in a school full of homophobic kids so the only way to fit in was to “act straight”. Did that for eleven years but through those tough times, I got sexually abused by males my age (groped, used as a sex iconand even blackmailed). It has left me scarred – mentally, physically and socially.
I have always been an anxious person but I needed to break out of this shell.
Imagine I am a cattipillar (or however you spell it) stuck in a cocoon: it wants to open up and reveal its true beauty but it can’t because of the walls in its way.
I did identify as pansexual, but that was when I was in a relationship with a boy. I feared my parents would tell him that I was lesbian so I had to come up with something to hide away that thought.
It was until I went to Snowdonia, Wales (a VERY odd place to debate on your sexuality), I started having spontaneous crushes on women. I couldn’t help but think about them non-stop.
Even the word “women” made my heart flutter.
Edging to June 2019, I was slowly getting confident. My boyfriend split up with me as he thought I seemed “different”. But the thing was, he was right.
I was different.
How could a 16 year old autistic female fall in love with another women despite being in a relationship with a male?
It came to my last full day at my secondary school and I came out.
The cocoon disappeared.
My wings had grown.
I felt blissful. I felt complete.
It was my last words at that school too, and I always look back at that and think as to how far I have become.
Back to when I used to “act straight”, all fell for it.
Does that mean I deserve an Oscar? I betta.
These following people helped me come out with all my might:
Daisy Ridley
Kat Barrell
Dominique Provost-Chalkley
Cara Delevingne
Ruby Rose
My family
Some fictional characters like Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp, Rey, Viola Eade, Thirteenth Doctor, Jyn Erso
You
So when someone says: “how have you come so far?”
I will tell them this story.
Just you wait for me to appear on the big screen, portraying a character who has gone through the same things as me.
I will credit all of you when I walk on the red carpet.
There’s a million things I haven’t done.
But just you wait…
Just you wait.
– H.L Good, a proud lesbian 
#OutIsTheNewIn
I think I am actually invisible sometimes.
I think most people think that every now and then.
I was little the first time I felt invisible sitting on a brick wall outside of my church, all the other kids had run to play but I was too tired to play. The adults didn’t even seem to notice I hadn’t made it to the playground.
The thing is I knew then I wasn’t invisible but I still thought it, I still think it.
I do not like putting myself out there.
I slouch when the teacher asks the class a question.
I panic when I don’t understand things.
I panicked when I finally came out to my best friend. I actually don’t even remember what I said to her and I am quite certain that she responded within a minute but that minute felt like forever. In that minute I thought of all the ways my best friend could say she didn’t support me and all the painful ways I would slowly disappear to the person that had stuck by my side since birth.
The truth is even if my friend had said she didn’t support me I would still be me, I would still be gay and I definitely would still be visible.
So here I am.
I haven’t disappeared
And no matter what people say I will never disappear because I have every right to be happy, to find love, to be me.
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.
I think around the age of 8 or 9 when the girls of my classroom started liking the boys and talk about them I had the thought that the boys were so childish and stupid and still girls liked them. After that when I knew that existed gay and queer people I already accepted them even though I never had think about it. Some years later I was talking to my best friend and I said that I really liked girls and apparently some guys but I didn’t know exactly what I was and she accepted me and open up about herself too. I still don’t have a defined sexuality and that’s ok since I know what I like.
When I first started to recognize my sexuality, I was thirteen years old. I was at the movies and when the lead actress appeared, there was a rush of desire. For the first time, I understood what all the fuss was about – but I knew I had to keep it a secret. I’d grown up in a small town and I’d never met an openly gay woman, but I knew what people thought of them.
That actress was the first in a long line of crushes. I spent so much time daydreaming about those women, and it felt good and right, but I stopped short of imagining myself with a girl.
I couldn’t be a lesbian. None of the lesbians I’d seen in the media looked, dressed, or acted anything like me. This was during the 90s, and I’d internalized a boat load of homophobia. The articles I sought out in teen magazines reassured me. According to them, a lot of girls had crushes on other girls, but it was a phase they grew out of.
Throughout all of this, I was dating guys. I said yes to anyone who asked me but as soon as I had a boyfriend, I’d do everything I could to distance myself. Being with boys gave me a strange, awful, empty feeling.
Later, there was a lot of guilt to untangle about the way I’d treated these guys. Plus, I had a lot of work to do to unlearn the internalized homophobia that had made me so sure I wasn’t gay in the first place.
I went from lying to myself about it, to accepting that it wasn’t going to change. During that time, I promised myself that nobody would ever find out. Then, slowly, I realized that I couldn’t live a full life without being open. I get that it’s not that way for everyone, but I sensed that it would be like that for me.
I inched out of the closet. First, I told my siblings, then my best friends, one parent and then another, gradually other friends and family. My worst fears never came true, but it wasn’t all positive either. There were reactions that hurt like hell.
That was nearly fifteen years ago, and I’m still coming out. It’s true when people say that it never stops, but it’s not hard anymore.
There was a time when I would have done anything to make it go away. If there was a magic pill that could have made me straight, I probably would have taken it.
The fact that the world makes young people feel that way is tragic. Boil it down to its simplest parts, and people who have a problem with LGBTQ+ people just can’t handle difference. They want everyone to be like them, so they can feel that their way of being is the only correct one. That speaks to a deep insecurity and unhappiness.
I love my life. Being gay is a part of me that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’ve got a long-term girlfriend, great friends, a job I like. I still get crushes on celebrities, and it would never occur to me to hide it anymore. Hard-won pride is pretty sweet!
One important thing about me is that I’ve always loved stories. Novels, movies, series, any story. From a very young age I’ve felt the need of finding inspiration and role models in fiction. When I was a kid, I deeply wished for two things: being a heroine living many crazy adventures (as a mermaid if possible) and finding true love. True love, from what I had seen mostly in Disney movies seemed like the most extraordinary thing in the world. And it was between a man and a woman. At that time, I didn’t know any queer people. I probably knew gay couples existed but I would have never thought of it as a possibility for myself. It was like this abstract thing that was very far from my world.
When I became a teenager, I remember that at a very young age I wanted a boyfriend who would love me. I was still watching Disney, but also teen movies and Romcoms. I remember that I was looking for a guy in my class whom I could have a crush on. And every year or so I would find a guy I would fall for, and secretly admire, wishing for this perfect movie ending.
It was also in these years that I really discovered that lesbian love was actually a thing. First by a Russian band called Tatu (that you may or may not know). This band was formed by two girls who were a couple and it was a huge hit at that time. I loved there songs but I was mostly very curious about their relationship. I became very attached to it, I was buying magazines about them. I remember once I bought one, and there was a poster in it where they were kissing. My parents said they thought it vulgar. I’ll come back to my parents a bit later.
Of course, it was revealed that apparently the couple of this band was totally fake. At that time, I felt betrayed (teenagers can be dramatic, what can I say). But I feel like my admiration for them opened a door that never really closed. I was thirteen when I realized I had feeling with my best friend. I don’t know if it was because of our friendship, or because I actually felt an attraction. In the girls magazine I was reading, they were saying that it’s normal as a teenager to question yourself, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re gay. So maybe it was just that, I was confused.
I feel like I was living a sort of double life the following years: as I was still looking for my prince charming, I was at the same time watching and reading everything I could that was including a lesbian relationship. The problem was most of these characters where ending awfully: getting killed, committing suicide, being miserable in any way, or back to straight.
As I told you before, fiction has always been very important for me, to inspire me for what I wanted, for my dreams. I think at an unconscious level I got persuaded that if I was not ending in a relationship with a man, I would be miserable. I realized that everything would have probably been better if I had talked about this to someone. It didn’t even cross my mind, probably because I wouldn’t have known who to talk to anyway.
So for most of my teen and adult life, I lived as a straight woman, in straight relationships. Do I need to specify that it was a disaster ?
I started physical relationships at university mostly. And without realizing it, I developed a pattern: I was always attracted to men I couldn’t have, or didn’t try to have. And I was never attracted to men who were attracted to me, at least not at first. To be honest, I wouldn’t have looked at any of the men I ever dated in my life if they hadn’t show interest in me in the first place. And then I felt so lucky that they even considered to look at me (Hello low self-esteem). And then we were dating, and I was making me falling for them, and I was playing the perfect girlfriend. These relationships all ended in the same way: at some point the guy was losing interest in me and breaking up.
The thing is, even I if I felt heartbroken and bad every time, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of relief at the same time. Like suddenly I got my time, my energy and myself back.
And yes, I kept wanting to have a boyfriend, or THE boyfriend. I felt jealousy towards my friends who were dating these awesome guys who loved them for so long. Why wasn’t anyone loving me? Wasn’t I able to be loved?
In all my early and mid twenties I avoided thinking about my own sexual orientation. But when I was 23 or 24 I met a woman (let’s call her Marie) who was openly gay. We became friends, and she invited me one weekend at her and her girlfriend’s place. As we were watching movies and talking, she said that it was so strange that I was only attracted to men, because even here other straight friends all had at least on same-gender crush (mostly celebrities). I didn’t know what to respond to that. Obviously, I couldn’t be gay or even bi if for Marie I was the straightest of all her straight friends. Since she was gay, she obviously knew better than me.
I’d like to take this opportunity to say that no, no one know who you are, who you love or attracted to better than yourself.
To go back to my parents, when I told them that Marie was gay, my mom answered me with a laugh « as long as you don’t become like that. » It was a joke for her.
That’s the thing with my parents: they are not what you could call obviously homophobic. They don’t insult queer people, they think they should have rights, they have no problem watching movies about gay people (as long as it’s tasteful according to my mom. I don’t know what it means either) and being moved by gay love stories. But they always made me feel like being something else than straight wasn’t right for me. I know that my mom have always pictured me with a handsome guy (and is probably very desperate because it’s still not happening) and I can feel the heavy weight of her expectations. It is probably why even if I’m 31 my parents still don’t know who I really am. I don’t know I’m ever gonna be able to tell them (if anyone has tips^^) or iff they suspect something.
But this story has a happy twist. After a burn out at work, I started a big work on myself, and after my last relationship with a man, I realized that it would be indeed probably the last one. At 28 I was finally ready to admit that I was attracted to women, and guess what, fiction helped again. This is where I want to talk about Wynonna Earp, and Waverly. I saw a lot of myself in her and her relationship with Nicole became very soon my couple goal. It was such a help and inspiration to me, so really, thank you. At that time, I thought of me as bisexual, but still questioning. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but once I felt that I wanted to date again, I subscribed to an online dating app for the first time in my life. And I felt SO AWKWARD. I didn’t know how to start a conversation or what to do to keep one active. But this is where I met the woman I fell in love with and still dating today. For the first time in my life, I deeply love the person I’m dating and our relationship. Even if we don’t live in the same country and haven’t been able to see each other for a while because of what’s happening in the world, I couldn’t feel more happy, safe and excited at the same time.
I realized that I was identifying as gay or lesbian (but I still prefer queer), but that my sexuality will stay fluid: I can be attracted to men, but I don’t want to date them or have sex with them. The spectrum is so much wider than I thought before and I’m so happy to be part of this community.
But no matter how I call myself, it’s only when I saw and accepted who I was that I could really love myself and express my true identity. Thank you Dom for giving us this space of expression <3
I went into fifth grade with the greatest belief that everything would be amazing. I was hoping to make many new friends and become someone that was independent for the first time. I was hoping for so many things, and got none of them. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life. It was a year that pushed me to the edge of everything and left me belittled and scared for what was going to come next.
The truth is that people often believe that fifth graders don’t have a good idea about who they are, what they like, or who they like. However, I was different. I can confidently say that fifth grade was the year that I realized that I was a bit unusual. I looked at boys with a fond eye, which is what I believed was normal, so when I first looked at a girl with that same eye, I became apprehensive. I wasn’t sure why I felt the same way and I didn’t know that what I was about to do would spark something horrible.
I walked up to this girl that I saw differently and told her, point blank, that I had feelings for her. I even remember writing her a poem and giving it to her as she stood outside of her locker. Nothing that I had done felt out of the ordinary, but as soon as someone noticed my gesture, all hell broke loose. The word got around very quickly that I was a lesbian. My classmates talked about me and laughed. They wouldn’t let me sit by them at lunch or be in their group for a project. At recess I walked alone, anxiously staring at a group as they continued to talk about me. I had never felt so isolated and alone, most of all, I had never felt so depressed. I, at the age of ten, considered taking my life. The pain that I felt kept building up and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that kept me alive was my family.
Now, my family didn’t actually know that any of this was going on. Every day, I would leave my house with a smile on my face and come home with that same exact smile. My parents and two sisters had no knowledge of anything that was going on at school. They didn’t know that I would go into my room and contemplate why I should continue fighting and not just give up. However, if there is anything worse than what the kids were saying about me, making my parents cry would be cause the biggest pain in my heart. I could never hurt myself in a way that would leave them asking why I did something or cause them to wonder if they were the reason. Despite all of the pain that I felt throughout fifth grade, I would never leave this world for the fear that my parents would be left alone in it.
Denial was the only way that I made it out of fifth grade. I denied all of the events that had occurred and stepped right back into the figurative closet that has been created for people like me. Now, as a junior in college, I am more open with people about my sexuality. I have the biggest and best support system around me and could not be more thankful. I look at life through a new lens, filled with hope for anyone like me. I look back at fifth grade and hate it in so many regards, however, I also look at it and believe that who I am today would not be a possibility without those events. I believe that everyone deserves to be happy and I will never disregard someone for a belief or aspect of their life. I have also come to accept who I am as a person and I am no longer scared. I was so close to the edge with nobody near. Now, if I ever become close to that edge again, I know I will have multiple people behind me ready to help.