Community Rainbow Waves

An unhappy story with a happy beginning

I was 12-13 years old

I started to really notice that I was not like my female friends ( talking about boys they liked, how they dressed, how they presented themselves). I always just attributed it to being a “tomboy”. I mean, I didn’t even really know what being a lesbian was at that time. So then their was 13 year old me, finding out that the real reason I would always develop feelings for all my female friends and never feeling that same way towards any of my guy friends was because I was in fact gay.

At the time of that realization, being gay was alway talked about in a negative light; that it was something to be teased and made fun of for. Even my closest friends and family were always making “gay jokes”. Not necessarily at someone else’s expense, but definitely in a way that would scare me more and more into the closet. And to make matters worse, during this time was also when I learned about Mathew Shepard.

I distinctly remember watching an episode of the Ellen degeneres show. On the show that day, she was talking to Mathew’s mother. She talked about her son and the horrible things that were done to him because he was gay. I remember weeping and shaking in fear. Fear that if I ever came out that I might be faced with the same cruelty. So I kept it a secret.

Cue the many years of anxiety and depression.

Being a 13 year old girl was hard enough. So now add in my crippling fear of what might happen if someone found out I was gay. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was actually attracted to men. but it seemed that every time I would tell myself that being with a man wouldn’t be so bad, I would get so sad. Like all the color in the world was obliterated and I was left with this dark, cold world that I felt I didn’t belong too. And unfortunately those dark feelings lead to dark thoughts. I remember always telling myself that I would kill my self before I’d tell anyone. I hated myself for who I was and I hated myself even more for not being able to change who I was.

I couldn’t understand why I felt so scared for so long. Times were changing and I could see all of the progress that was being made at the time. Granted, their was still some work to be done, but progress nonetheless. Looking back on it now, I was actually one of the lucky ones. I had amazing parents. My dad who was ever open minded to all walks of life and a mom who would do anything just to see me happy and safe. Neither one of them would turn their back on me for being gay. Instead, they love me unconditionally. But I still always had that “what if” in the back of my mind. What if I’m wrong about them. What if this is the one thing that breaks the camels back. What if.

These thoughts and feelings went on for years. They got so bad that I began feeling physical pain. I could handle it anymore. So at 15 I attended suicide.

I won’t get to far into the details of it, but afterwards I remember just looking at myself in the mirror. I looked for so long. Looking for the reason I was still here.

It dawned on me that I was still here for my mom and dad. But I was also still here for my little brothers and all the people who truly care about me. I was also here for the chance that maybe one day their will be someone who is in the same place I was and the only thing standing in the way them and the same bad choice I made was proof that light will shine on them through the cracks of the dark room they are in for now. Was I ready to come out yet? No! But I was ready to start loving myself.

It took a lot of work, but eventually I got to a place where I was feeling ready to step out of the closet. I had it all planned out too. I was about to graduate from high school and it was going to be my graduation gift to myself.

However.

Two days before graduation, my mother passed away unexpectedly. I was more lost than I was ever before. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t breathe; even getting out of bed was an impossible task. Revealing my truth way put on the back burner for the time being. But time just went on and on and I still just hadn’t told anyone that I was gay. Not because I was ashamed of it or anything but because I just didn’t see the point in it anymore. I grieved for years, shit I still do. My mom was my hero. Out of every one in the world, I was more excited to share this part of myself with her the most. I missed my chance though and I will regret that for the rest of my life.

Now. The day I finally decided to come out to someone, I had not planned it out at all. The opportunity was there and I just fuck it, nothing could be more painful than what I’ve been going through with the loss of my mom. So essentially I really have nothing to lose.

The first person I told was my best friend. This guy really knows everything about me. He always had his suspicions, but he alway wanted me to feel comfortable enough with myself to say anything. But when I finally did tell him, he almost didn’t believe me. When I finally convinced him he said, ” well shit! What the hell took you so long!” He followed it up by saying ” I’m proud of you and I love you no matter what.”

For the first time since I was 13, I felt like I could really breathe again. That first breath I took after telling him brought me to tears. Not to sound cheesy or anything, but I felt alive! Little by little I started telling more people. Once I told just about everyone, the only one left to tell was my dad. I started to feel a little bit of that old familiar fear when I thought about telling him. I just couldn’t get the words out. But on June 26,2015 ( the same day the marriage equality act was passed in Congress) it was like the universe was telling me that now was a better time than any.

I waited all day for him to come home from work. The whole time I was giving myself pep talks. When he finally got home, I instantly started shaking. I was so nervous. He could tell that their was something wrong with me. He asked if I was okay. With tear filled eyes and a shaky voice, I said it, ” dad, I’m gay.”
He rapped his arms around me and said, “I know! And mom knew too.” That was the most comforting feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. He went on to tell me that they could both tell that I was gay, even when I was little. Jokingly I said I wish they would have made me aware of that. He told me that they wanted me to be comfortable and ready enough for myself to say something.

Ever since I have come out, life in itself, has been a million times better. I no longer fear the world knowing my truth. The air is sweeter and the world has color again. My life didn’t end because I came out of the closet. Instead I got a happy beginning to a life I am so eager to live.

Lesbian

I realized I was a lesbian when I was a mere twelve years old. It wasn’t a huge moment. I remember sitting on the couch and suddenly thinking “I like girls”. I’ve been lucky enough to grow up in an environment where being LGBT is accepted. My parents are accepting, my friends are accepting, and my community is accepting. My story isn’t dramatic, but it’s a piece of me.

Love Conquers ALL

I was quite young when I started to realise that I didn’t love in the same way as my friends or most of the people around me. Growing up I had never really felt like I fit in – there always felt like there was something, perhaps a part of me, that was missing or undiscovered.

When I was around 13 years old, thanks to social media and other resources that exposed me to a whole community of kind, loving and accepting people, I started to view myself and the feelings I felt differently. At first, I was absolutely petrified of who I was; one of the memories I remember most was lying in my bed crying and whispering to myself over and over again ‘I’m not gay, I don’t like girls.’

Thankfully, I came to the realisation that it was okay to like girls and to be gay. In June 2016, I came out to my friends on Twitter as bisexual. I stuck with this label for almost two years because it felt ‘okay’. I still felt like it wasn’t correct but it sure as hell felt a lot better than trying to convince myself that I was straight.

The first time I came out to somebody in my ‘real life’ was in April 2018. She was one of my best friends and we were out at a park doing a photo shoot for one of my photography projects. We ended up staying on the park swings for about 3 hours, just talking about sexuality and my experience and such. This was the first time that I had said that I didn’t actually know what I wanted to label myself as, I just knew that I liked girls (and that I liked them a lot more than boys).

In June 2018, exactly 2 years after I first came out on Twitter as bi, I came out again, but this time as a lesbian. It was one of the most freeing feelings I have ever felt because, FINALLY, I could identify as something that made me feel authentic and true to myself. It took me a while to feel fully comfortable with the label because of the bad rap the label is given as it is fetishised by the porn industry. But today I can easily, and happily, announce that I am a lesbian and that I am proud of that.

Throughout the 2 years since coming out to my friend in 2018, I have come out to so many more people. Old friends from secondary school (actually, most of my whole year group from secondary school through a post to my Instagram Story) and new friends from sixth form.

But the most recent person that I came out to is the one that makes me proudest. In February of this year (2020), I came out to my older sister. I couldn’t say the words out loud so I just sent her a link to a YouTube video of a ‘coming out’ song that somebody had made for this particular situation. I sobbed and she held me close when we hugged. She told me that she loved me and that she didn’t care who I loved. I can’t remember if she said so or not, but I know that she is proud of me.

The only other family member that knows is one of my cousins of the same age but I know that one day I will be able to fully be myself in front of all of my family and that this is only the beginning.

As part of the LGBTQ+ community, we are always coming out. Whether 2 days down the line or 10 years. Even so, the feeling of relief and joy that we experience when we tell somebody who accepts it without question is something that I will never forget or take for granted.

As I said at the start; I don’t love in the same way as my friends or a lot of the people around me. But that’s okay because love is complex and it comes in so many different forms. And every single one of them is beautiful. Because love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love.

I finally feel like I fit in somewhere. I have finally found the missing jigsaw pieces that make me, ME.

I am a lesbian, I love girls.
But, most importantly, I am ME.

-Lily

#Loveislove #LoveConquersALL

Allison

As a queer woman, I have many coming out stories. The fumbling time I came out to my parents in a pharmacy parking lot, the time I drunkenly sobbed it to my best friend at a bar while an 80s cover band performed Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” in the background, the multiple times I came out to myself.

I first realized I might not be totally straight when I was in college. Sure, I had been attracted to other girls before, but I marked it up to general admiration. Everyone had thoughts like this, right? It was during my junior year in 2009 that I noticed a girl waiting in the corridor for our class to begin. There was nothing ordinarily special about her, but the way she carried herself captivated me. So, I kept an eye out for that girl, thinking maybe I wanted to be friends with her. She was sporting a baseball cap with the horrible baseball team I cheer for. That’s enough to want to be friends, right? The semesters changed and I didn’t give much thought to the mysterious girl whom I never ended up talking to; though I continued to work my part-time job at a queer owned deli, telling myself I was just an enthusiastic ally.

As fate would have it, who walked into my senior thesis course the following semester? Why, none other than baseball cap girl! Since there were only six of us in the class, we all got familiar, and for the sake of anonymity, let’s name her Kate. Kate and I became fast friends and the need to be near her became too much to ignore. It was like my true self was festering under the surface, but all the years of my small town, conservative upbringing made me scared of what the outcome would be if I let this part of myself out.

In coming to terms with my sexuality, I did what I always do when I don’t know an answer: RESEARCH. I scoured the internet for any helpful articles, I even got books from the library on human sexuality. I searched for representation in the media to little avail. I wanted to find stories like these, from real people who knew the struggle of accepting yourself. I was lost and confused but finally said the words “I’m gay” to myself, out loud.

Meeting Kate was a “click” moment for me. She was the one who turned the light on in corners of my brain and heart that I was trying to suppress. She came into my life abruptly, threw me for a loop and for that, I am forever in her debt. Though the story between the two of us is a phantom for another day, I will always be thankful to this woman and cherish my memories with her because she helped me see my true self.

Personally, I have never been a fan of labels. I don’t like to be put in a box when there are so many little things that make every one of us unique. I never really referred to myself as a lesbian, but that is what most people I know decided to categorize me under. Again, I don’t care for labels, so I never really minded. Then, a few months ago, I was cleaning up at the bar I work at with a coworker. We were having a pint while sweeping the floors when we started a candid conversation about the queer community. He is an open-minded straight cisgender man, so I honestly answered any of his queries to the best of my ability. It was in this conversation with a friend, that I came out once more, but this time as queer. I told him that though I usually prefer women, I would never close myself off to the opportunity of being with someone based on their gender.

So, in closing, much like the world around us, we are never done evolving. You are allowed to be a work in progress. You are allowed to readjust your labels. You are allowed to unapologetically be who you are, because who you are is beautiful and more than enough. No matter how you identify, you are deserving of all the fucking love in the world. <3 AM

Bisexual

I felt (and still kind of do feel) a bit confused about who I like. But I knew I was 100% in to girls as well in 2016. I came out to my friends in 2017 and I promised my self I would come out to my family soon after. It’s now 2020 and I am still in the closet with my family. I know they know I am not straight but I am just too scared to have the conversation with them. I know they will accept me and nothing ‘bad’ is likely to happen but I just can’t say it to them and I am worried that they dynamics may change, especially with my dad.

BeKindNomad – Jude

While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.

Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.

I like what I like.

You can’t help who you love.

It began when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class with short dirty blonde hair and I still remember the red and white ruffled dress she wore, with her dingy white sneakers. I knew something was different. I was having these feelings that I couldn’t explain, and they continued to grow. My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot, and met a lot of different people. I was constantly bombarded with all these new attractions I was experiencing. When I was 10 years old, I realized that this was the real beginning of my struggle with my sexuality. There were two girls in my class that I could never stop talking about. I started drawing out their names during class and was constantly thinking about them. “This can’t be normal! Why am I having these feelings? What’s wrong with me? Do I tell mom and dad? What would they say?” Then I remembered I had an aunt, who was rumored to have a girlfriend, and that was highly frowned upon-yet no one ever confronted her about it. My parents just told us that “they were girlfriends.” I took that as they were together, but it was never explained or rarely spoken of. When it was mentioned, it was always with eyebrows raised. Their reaction to her made it even more difficult for me to want to talk to them.

After a few months at a new school, my sister found a couple drawings of girls’ names that I had really huge crushes on. “I LOVE…” She went straight to our mom with them! I was so embarrassed and confused. “You are just confused. You can talk to me, okay?” I WAS NOT going to talk to her! “This is my secret and it will pass,” I thought to myself. Maybe I was going through a phase. My dad was away, so I felt a little more at ease that I didn’t have to try to talk to him too.

I was 16 years old when my mom came up to me and asked me outright if I was gay. Her eyes pierced my soul. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so ashamed. I did NOT want to disappoint her. Without hesitation, I looked directly into her eyes and lied to her. “NO! I’m just not interested in anyone, that’s all.” She knew I was lying, but did not say so. I continued to have my secret crushes, but never allowed myself to fully give in to my feelings. It was miserable, to have all these feelings and be terrified to speak about them. My questionable sexuality was knocking at my door. I was in real trouble. It was getting harder and harder to suppress these feelings. My friends at school were all dating and here I was, not interested in any guys. AT ALL. I decided that I would just tell everyone that my mom would not allow me to date because I had to focus on my studies. That’s what Asian kids do right? They don’t have time for relationships!

I was 20 when I met Lou. She was the general manager at the restaurant that I worked at. Over the years of our friendship, she noticed that I never had a boyfriend, or talked about relationships in general. One day, I decided to date a guy. We had gone to high school together and he was recently divorced with a young son. Honestly, I was trying to test if I was really gay. This relationship ended quickly, as I realized that even if I had feelings for him, being with him felt like a job. I went through all the motions but had no real connection. I was watching him fall for me and for what? To disappoint him in the end? We ultimately broke up because I was always choosing work over him, or any excuse to keep him at a distance. My mom and Lou watch all of this unfold. Neither of them were fooled for a second. The thing that Lou said to me that I will never forget is that, “you can’t help who you love.” I didn’t answer, but I knew that she knew. I was 29 when I had the worst encounter of my life. I had met someone at my new job and had fallen in love with her, and I could NOT bear to tell her. The friendship ended horribly because I wouldn’t explain to her why I was so jealous of her boyfriend. In an effort to forget about how my life was completely ruined by me being in the closet, I decided suddenly to join the military. I needed a new environment, a change. I had to get out of here!

In a new place, I decided that I could finally be me. None of the past shame or mistakes. However, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” was still in effect (homosexual servicemen/servicewomen could stay in the military if they did not openly declare their sexual orientation). I got involved with a girl at the barracks, and things escalated quickly. We were careful, because we didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves. I lied to her about my past in the beginning, but seeing how serious it was getting, I finally told her to truth. I’d never been with a woman. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. During the duration of our relationship, we had difficult arguments. I had not come out to my family and was avoiding it, which was a huge problem for her since she expected them to know that she existed as more than my friend. She wanted to get married and wanted kids, and to be accepted by my family. I was not ready for ANY of that. Everything was still so new but I still was not able to be ME. I was living two separate lives.

The next year, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Within that year, she passed away. I never came out to her. And now she was gone. I fell into a horrible depression and was not sure I going to make it in the military. I had only been in for a couple years and my girlfriend was afraid I would ruin my career. Since I had been free of suppressing my sexuality, I decided to suppress my grief over losing my mom. It caught up to me a few months later when I getting ready to report to my first ship. We dated for another year before she ended things. We were on opposite coasts and would be separated for 3-4 years. My first REAL heart break. As soon as I was able, I went home on leave and came out to my dad and sisters. I came out to my dad first, and boy was that the hardest thing I ever had to do. I couldn’t even look at him. He is a man of very little words so when he asked if I was sure, I looked at him through my tears. “Dad, I’ve known since I was 5.” He looked down, then said, “okay,” and walked away. I felt a huge wave of relief. I mean, he didn’t hug me or tell me everything was going to be fine, but I knew it would be. I came out to my sisters next, which was much easier. “I knew it! Why couldn’t you just tell us? It was obvious! I remember your little drawings,” my one sister yelled. The other one was still a baby back then, but then chimed in, “I was just waiting for you to tell us.” I started crying because I wasn’t able to tell my mom, and that I would never be able to tell her.

Newly single at 32 and a new duty station was just the change that I needed . “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed and I could serve the remainder of my time in the military truly happy and free. When asked “what I am,” I would always answer, “I like what I like.” I still to this day have no label and have been happy in my “no label” sexuality since then. I have never felt the need to come out to everyone. My dad and sisters know and I’m okay with that. In my dad’s words, “You don’t need to announce it to the world. You don’t owe anyone any explanation. You do what you feel is right, and what makes you happy.”

I finished my contract and returned home. I had a lot of people speculate on my sexuality but the only person I cared about was Lou. She has been my best friend for years and like a big sister, but I still have not come out officially to her. I don’t feel the need to. Outside of my dad and sisters, I know that she loves me unconditionally. I know that she knows, and I believe she is still waiting on me to tell her. Maybe I will soon. 21 years later is not too late.

Cheezylezbian87

I first Had an inclination my freshman year of college, when I began to have feelings for my best friend(10/06). I kept my feelings hidden for fear of rejection. I became involved years later, (10/11), with a girl and fell in love for the first time, I knew then who I was. I came out to close friends and family shortly afterwards. The best of them had known about my sexuality for years, so it was nice and easy. It has taken a couple of relationships for me to fully embrace myself. I’m very happy and proud of who I am.

I’m still human- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR, BULLYING, AND SUICIDE

I knew I was different when I was about 6 years old. I never liked girly things I would play football with the boys and chase the girls playing kiss chase. I realised I was attracted to women when I was in high school. I told my best friend that I was gay when I was 15. It didnt go so well soon the whole school knew. I was bullied really badly i had my hair set on fire, people tipped cans af coke over my head, i got beat up on the way home every day. I had to cut out chewing gum from my hair every day. It was a nightmare I fell into a deep depression and started self harming. When I was 16 I tried to kill myself I couldn’t take it anymore, I was being tortured for being myself. I hid my sexuality and got a boyfriend. He was also gay and didnt want the same abuse I was getting so we pretended to date. We would hold hands and hang out together. Things got a little easier after that. When I was 19 I started going to the gay village in manchester I would dance in the clubs hook up with women but would give them a fake names because I was so scared everyone would find out I was gay. When I was 21 I got very drunk and shouted at my mum that I was gay while trying to climb the stairs. My mum just smiled and said she had always known and that I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am. I wished I’d have told her when I was at school instead of lying about why I was being bullied. I am now 39 years old I’m married to the most beautiful woman on the planet. We have been together for 15 years and every day I find something new to love about her. I wish I hadn’t experienced the abuse I suffered as it has had negative effects on me like I dont like people coming up behind me or standing to close to me. I still suffer with bouts of depression and low self esteem but I wouldn’t be the person I am today if i hadn’t gone through that. I’m still human after all. Xxx

The First Gay of the Rest of my Life

Growing up I always felt different.

This different-ness kept me from having authentic and deep relationships for most of my adolescent and young adult life, before I was even aware of what my “difference” was. I was never fully myself – I had a deep seeded anxiety that I was going to somehow let everyone know this thing that I didn’t even know about myself yet.

When I was 16 I had my first real kiss. I say real because I had kissed a handful of guys and felt a gut-wrenching anxiety before during and after each time. I remember wondering if that’s what the feeling all my friends talked about loving – so why didn’t I love it?

Well my first kiss at 16 told me why. I magically made a new best friend. She somehow rose in the rankings effortlessly in the 3 short weeks that I had known her, getting that coveted “best friend” position. Thinking back on the whole thing makes me smile because as horrifying as it was back then, it’s kinda cute to think about little gay me and how obvious it all was.

At this point I was having fleeting moments of feelings when our hands would touch, or she would lay her head on my shoulder, or she seemed to seek me out the same way I sought her out. These fleeting moments manifested as one of those jolts you get right after you’ve done something embarrassing, or you are carrying a laundry basket down a flight of stairs and think there’s one more stair beneath you but your foot hits the ground too quick. That split-second “oh f***” moment followed by that FULL body halo of heat that disappears just as quickly as it came.

Despite all the signs that were there – I continued to lie to myself and think that these touchy moments and our obsessive need to talk and be around one another and the phone bills from the literal 17,000 texts a month we sent (sorry dad… Also, did I even sleep? ALSO, yes it was long ago enough that you had to pay for texts past a certain amount. I’m showing my age – I digress.) were just the signs of best friendship. So one night she slept over. And as bffs do, we obviously went to bed forehead to forehead holding hands between us because that is just what best friends do, right? Anyway… I could feel her breath on my lips (remember… i was STILL lying to my conscious brain even at this point) and I think my heart rate spiking to the level it did made me actually black out because all of the sudden I opened my eyes and I WAS KISSING HER! I came to just after I had casually kissed my best friend and squeaked out a GOODNIGHT! and rolled over.

I didn’t sleep a M-Fing wink that night. I stared at the wall with my heart in my throat wondering WHY I JUST RUINED MY NEW BEST FRIENDSHIP. Turns out I didn’t. She kissed me the following night and thus ensued a secret 4 year love affair. Yes, I said it… 4 years.

We stayed in the closet together for those four years until I met my first gay friend in college. Coming out to even one person in my life started to make that closet my secret gf and I were in feel really claustrophobic. Eventually we parted ways and I came out to everyone I knew within the next few months. I count my blessings everyday that my coming out was easy for me because I know not everyone experiences it this way. But coming out strengthened my relationship with every single person in my life because the parts of me that no one ever touched were no longer untouchable. I stopped filtering myself (which is also a little detrimental at times) but all of my bonds became stronger because I was letting everyone love me for all of me. All the parts of me.

My story is longer than that but I’ll get off my soap-box for now.

Also to everyone terrified out there – find your one person. Even if you aren’t ready to tell the world and even if it’s a stranger online. Tell your person because even being your true self to just one person can make a huge difference. That being said – it’s okay to not be ready. When you are ready though… you’ve got an army waiting for you.

-Mo