Our shop will be on a break between January 4th – January 23rd. All orders placed between these dates will be processed on our return. Thank you!
TRIGGER WARNING: Some of the posts on this page may contain sensitive or potentially triggering content. Start the Wave has tried to identify these posts and place individual trigger warnings on them.
Should you come across any content that needs further review, please contact us through the Contact Us page.
I knew I like boys and girls since I was at a very young age (5-6) I didn’t really think much about it until I was in year 7 and everyone started dating, up until high school I only had a couple of crushes on boys. When I got in to year 9 I was getting really close with one of my friends and we started “talking”. And that’s the same year in school we looked at different sexuality’s and feelings, I finally realised the way I felt about people had a name. I’m out and a proud bisexual.
Well my story startd when I was little but I just sorta pushed my feelings down until when I was in year 9 (13/14) and i came out to my best friend that I was gay and in no uncertain terms i was told that I was gross and disgusting and should never tell anyone about this, I can happily say i don’t talk to her anymore. But it took about a year to get over this and tell my mum who after i told her asked to get her a cuppa. She was very unphased, my dad did think i was joining a cult be he had no idea what LGBT meant and went with me and my girlfriend to London Pride. Coming out to my friends well that was hard and easy as i had somw openly homophobic friends. I still to this day have some homophobic family members but I’m getting there with them.
Coming out as gender-fluid (GF) was so much harder (at 18) and something I still after almost a year if being out struggle with. To come out as GF I spoke to my parents seperately and it took them a while but they are coming round I think. Apart from my parents I put it on my social media as I didnt feel the need to tell people. This severly backfired but I am dealing with it. I also found things like wynonna earp helpful in my coming out process as when I first came out as I was more feminine back then, now i do dress more masc and use they/them pronouns. Well yeah thats most of my story..
I’d always been a tomboy. I grew up with 5 brothers and 1 sister (I’m also the youngest), and my dad was all about ‘the sports’ so we’d often be playing football, rugby, and quite a bit of cricket.
When I reached secondary school I really started to notice my feelings towards girls. I’d experienced these feelings before but I hadn’t known what they were, how to identify them.
I grew up in a really dodgy part of Yorkshire in England. It wasn’t a place one would ever identify as a ‘safe space’. It always felt like the whole town was… stuck. There wasn’t any art or culture, no diversity, and there certainly weren’t any (out) gay people. At least none that I can remember.
There wasn’t much to do in my town so as teenagers, me and my friends would end up drinking on the streets. I would only ever talk about my feelings when I was drunk and NEVER with anyone else, only ever to myself. I’d sit there and say “you’re not a lesbian. You’re not a lesbian!”
I did NOT want to stand out, I didn’t want to be different. When I was 14, a girl in the year below me had been outed and her life was made a living hell. No way was I going to do that to myself. So I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gay, that I’d meet the perfect boy and all those feelings would melt away thanks to his chiselled jaw and amazing magical penis.
Anyways, eventually I got out of that town and at 18 went to University. On my very first day, the very first person I spoke to was a super smiley friendly girl named Rachel. We immediately clicked and became instant best friends. But uh-oh, those pesky feelings were bubbling up again!
I ramped up my efforts to find the magical penis that drives off any lesbian tendencies. Personally, I found it pretty gross. And rather boring.
After about 4 months mine and Rachel’s friendship blossomed into something else. And it was MIND BLOWING! The first time we were together it was like my whole body was suddenly awake. Every touch, every sensation was just utterly amazing (I’m being super gushy, sorry). I was DEFINITELY a lesbian.
It wasn’t easy sailing though. Rachel and I had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. I’d finally accepted my feelings to myself and to Rachel, but my fear of people finding out I was gay was still firmly in place. That fear meant that I, at times, ended up hurting Rach. She wasn’t out either but she handled everything with a great deal more grace and elegance than I ever did.
Over time, as our fledgling romance deepened, we found the courage to come out to our friends. They were very loving and supportive which was a huge relief. I was terrified my best friend from home would be horrified and disown me, but her reaction was so far from it! Which is also silly because I’d known her since we were 6 years old, she was never going to push me away! But I suppose that’s why the fear intensifies when having to tell the most important people in your life – the idea of losing someone you love that much is a hard thing to shake off.
Rachel came out to her parents after about 6 months. Again, they were very accepting and welcomed me with open arms. When Rach was back home and I’d go to stay with them, not having to hide our relationship was such a weight off. We were even allowed to sleep in the same bed… Get in!! 😀
My coming out to my mum took just a little bit longer. Rach and I had been together almost a year. It was Christmas in the second year of uni and Rach was going back to her parents and I to mine. My brother came to pick me up and saw me saying a very soppy goodbye to my ‘best friend’. Over the 20 minute car journey he finally asked me “are you two a couple?”. The word “yes” sat in my throat for what felt like a lifetime. I eventually managed to push it out and then waited for the repercussions…
The smile on my brother’s face was the most relieving thing in the whole wide world. We talked, we laughed, I *nearly* cried (I’m not very good with emotions). Problem was, now my brother knew, it meant I had to tell my mum.
My mum is a very intelligent woman with some interesting views, shall we say. She had gay friends when I was in my teens, but she always called them ‘queers’ and not in the positive way. In a nutshell, I was sh*tting it.
I spent the whole of the two week Christmas break hovering, trying to blurt out “I’m a giant lesbian!”. I almost said it after watching ‘Bend Is Like Beckham’ after the whole confusion where Keira Knightley’s mum thinks she’s a lesbian. I took a deep breath, had the words ready, and said “right, I’m off to bed then”. Fail.
The last morning before going home I went and sat on my mum’s bed to talk to her. I still couldn’t do it. My mum threw me a lifeline though – “is there something you want to tell me? I feel like you’ve been hovering”. I got under her duvet, covered my face, heart pounding through my chest, lump in my throat, “me and Rach are an item”. Head between legs, fingers in ears, wait for the eruption…
“I know. I heard you call her ‘sweetheart’ on the phone. I didn’t ask because I wanted you to tell me in your own time”. And just like that, my mum knew I was gay and my world didn’t end. I even got a call from my gran telling me I was still the same person, and “we talk to ’em (gay people) don’t we!” She was trying to be sweet so I let that go.
My mum took it well initially but still had her own struggles with me coming out, mainly because she had plans for me to have a strapping young husband to do her DIY. She got there in the end though.
Rachel and I have now been together for 16 years and our 12th Wedding anniversary is in May. We have a 6 year old son and live a very happy ‘out’ existence. That smiley girl, the very first person a shy me spoke to at Uni, became the love of my life.
Apologies for the huge essay.
Final note though – if I’ve learned anything in my 34 years, it’s love who you love and live your best life for you.
Stay kind beautiful people.
My name is Rashard. I come from the great state of Maryland.
I came out as bisexual to myself when I was in my senior year of high school. It was slightly difficult, as I went to an all-boys Catholic private high school.
It wasn’t until college that I joined an LGBTQ student group. I went to my first Baltimore Pride in 2018, then went the next year.
I’m out to some parts of my family, including my parents and siblings.
I came to the conclusion of being queer around this time last year.
I want to be an actor and filmmaker, and I really love film so much.
I have a DVD and Blu-Ray collection damn near so vast you could probably mix it up for a small-scale movie store.
I graduated from CCBC in June of 2019, and now I’m taking classes at Towson University to get my Bachelor’s.
In conclusion, this is me and I’m learning to be proud of myself.
I started “wondering if” about a few years ago I think, I remember getting really defensive any time there was any form of negativity towards the community and in the beginning I just thought that I was an ally. More and more I saw the LGBTQI+ community represented and I felt so happy and proud.
When I learned more about Bisexuality I began wondering if it would be possible that I “belong in that category” (for lack of better words). I knew I liked boys, but then started wondering “but can you like girls as well?”.
About a year and a half ago I had a dream in which I kissed a girl, and I noticed that that wasn’t weird at all.
More and more since that moment I noticed the representation of Bisexuality in shows, movies etc.
About a year ago I noticed a girl flirting with me and found myself thinking “I would’nt mind if she kissed me” (which didn’t happen). And then I started rewatching shows, watching new shows and finding comfort in strong and proud Bisexual female characters (Hope, Josie, Waverly …)
At the end of January this year I came out for the first time online, a few weeks later to my younger sister and my mum and a few weeks ago to my dad (with a powerpoint nonetheless, extra I know).
I have been so much happier since then and have found this amazing community so all I want to say is THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.
Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.
First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.
Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.
Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.
Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.
Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.
Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!
Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…
Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.
Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”
Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”
There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.
I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.
I haven’t come out to anyone yet. It’s a bit scary due to growing up in a very strict Christian household. But I’m hoping when I do come out, I’ll still be loved.
This is going to be a long story. Sorry in advance. This is my story and this is who I am.
Growing up in a small (3 stoplight kind of small) town in Southern California wasn’t always the easiest. This was the kind of town where everyone knew someone, who knew you. Everyone ended up knowing your business whether you wanted them to know or not.
As a kid and preteen, I always knew I was different. While other girls were concentrated on boys and learning how to put on makeup, here I was more concerned about not having enough daylight to climb rocks, ride bikes, or play outside. The only thing I wanted from a boy was to have someone to play catch with. I was always shy around girls, which is probably why the majority of my friends were boys.
As the years passed, this blonde haired, blue eyed, knobby knees kid didn’t really change.
Come high school (1999-2003 in case anyone was curious), I was still the athletic girl who hung out with all the boys. At age 16 I had my first kiss. My first kiss was with my best friend (he and I are still friends to this day). Nothing ever really ever came from that kiss. It wasn’t long after senior year started did I find out my old neighbor had a crush on me. Apparently he had a crush on me since 6th grade. We had many classes together that year. We would even walk to class together. I always saw us as just friends. One day he asked me to one of the dances at school. I had always wanted to go to the dances at school, but never thought I would have someone to take me. I agreed to go with him as long as he understood we were going as friends. The big night came and went. All the fun was had that evening and after that, life went back to normal. I was still shy and quiet.
Fast forward six months. MYSPACE and Yahoo! Messenger came into my life.
My eyes were opened to a whole new world. It was life changing!
I met so many new people outside of my tiny country town. I never really asked myself why I never wanted to date anyone. The time came when I met this girl online, we’ll just call her Mary, from the other side of my state. We would chat EVERY SINGLE DAY. Some days were just in a chat room and other days on video chat. I had NEVER spent this much time talking to anyone before. I was completely head over heels and didn’t even realize it. One day, one of my sisters asked me why I was spending so much time talking to this girl. She straight up asked me if I was a lesbian. I was scared and didn’t quite know how to answer her at the time partly because I myself didn’t really know. I ended up telling her NO. Going back to Mary, neither one of us ever told the other how we obviously felt about one another. We both graduated and moved on with the next chapter in our lives.
Summer after high school, I had already started taking summer classes for college. I was over at a friends house and he was chatting with his buddy who lived out of state. This buddy had recently gone through a rough divorce and needed a friend to talk to. My friend introduced us and we started becoming friends. That’s all we were for a while. The more we talked the more we liked each other. Long story short, I moved up to AK. We got married, this unfortunately didn’t last very long. I realized it wasn’t fair to either one of us for me to stay and try to work things out if I couldn’t be 100% honest with myself. I still felt like something was missing. Looking back I realize that I was running away when I moved to AK. Running away because I was scared of how my family, my friends, and my community would react to me telling them I was queer. I told my family I was moving back to CA. I told them I was queer. My parents are very open minded and love all of us no matter what. But with that being said, it took some time for my mom to warm up to the idea.
Not quite ready to look everyone face to face, I moved back to CA but not to the part where I grew up. I moved in with a friend I had known for a while. We went out to the Gayborhood fairly often and I really learned who I was and who I’ve always been. This friend of mine and I ended up dating for almost 3 years. I owe her the world for helping me at that time. Due to many differences this relationship wasn’t meant to be. I finally moved back “home” to be close to family.
It took 5 years of me being gone to realize home was where I was meant to be. I was able to get close to my family again. You know what, it was the best decision I ever made. I absolutely love my family and I’m very lucky to have them. They welcomed me back with open arms. I was able to reconnect with old friends and make some new friends. One of those new friends became my wife about 7 years ago. We have been together for almost 12 years now. Although we are no longer living in CA, we have made a home and are now a family of 
.
No matter what life throws at you, you will rise back up and shine. 
come at the end of a storm.
For the curious minds out there, “Mary” and I are still great friends. We have been there for each other through all of the ups and downs life has thrown at us over the years.
It took me a long time to realize I was gay. I came out to my sisters 4 years ago on March 22nd. I was so nervous! But I couldn’t deny I was a lesbian anymore after I was thinking of Alexandra Daddario the way I was. I realize that finding men attractive didn’t mean I wasn’t gay it just meant I had eyes. Coming out later on is so strange because tv makes it seem like you should have things figured out in middle school, but it’s different for everyone. And I’m glad I can be myself.
This is the story of how coming out changed my life.
I was 16 years old and a junior in high school in the close-minded region of small town, Texas. I grew up a tomboy, with seven older brothers and a single, survivor of a mother, never wanting to be the damsel-in-distress or victim of the story. It was when I got a little bit into my teen years that I realized embracing the feminine side of myself didn’t make me weaker or less than at all. That’s what my mother taught me.
My beautiful, strong, hair-brained, peachy pink nails-for-days mother. I remember the night she looked at me with that stubborn spark in her eye and told me, “you’re gonna break the cycle, baby girl”. She wanted more for me than that somber cycle of violence I watched her go through growing up, that she watched her mother go through. I remember feeling empowered. I remember thinking to myself that I wouldn’t let her down and I would never apologize for being who I was.
Well, needless to say I carried that experience and many more like it into my years of high school. The first few of which I was rather awkward (naturally), all converse and band t-shirts, but all the while unapologetically myself. Social norms weren’t my thing and I really didn’t care about impressing anybody. I kept mostly to myself and my small circle of friends. Beside theater, I kept mostly out off extra-curricular activities as well, which looking back on I do regret.
Up until this point I had only dated boys and only ever thought of myself as straight. I mean, of course I knew queer people and would (rarely) see a queer character on a tv show or movie that I’d watched, but I never thought of myself that way. It never, ever occurred to me that there was a reason I never really felt that spark when I kissed guys, never felt 100% myself when I was in relationships. I thought maybe it was just because I was young and needed more experience, I thought it was normal.
Junior year is when things started to change. I met a girl. Cheesy as hell, I know, but true. And I guess “met” isn’t the right word. We’d known each other since the 8th grade but our only interaction consisted only of harmless banter in passing. Friends of friends and in completely different social circles. She was a cheerleader. She did beauty pageants and coached gymnastics to kids on the weekends. She was gorgeous and funny and smart. In other words, she was on the other fucking end of the spectrum in relation to where I was. Me, the girl who read books in the back through 90% of my classes, played guitar in a garage band, drove a motorcycle to school and had to physically restrain myself from answering every question ever with a sarcastic one-liner. We shouldn’t have had anything in common… At least, that’s what I thought.
We got a bit closer Junior year, having an advanced English class together, and it was in that class I started to realize little miss perfect didn’t exactly have it all. It was obvious she was struggling with something at home that was weighing on her.
Later that semester she eventually confided in me that she was gay. She told me she’d been with girls before and when her parents found out it was bad. They sent her to church camp. Made her shut that shit down so hard the light went missing from her. I remember how much it hurt my heart to see it. We became even closer after that, as you do, and the fact that I knew she was gay brought a few things to my attention:
Like the way she looked at me.
Or the way I felt when she looked at me.
And I was suddenly very interested in watching movies and tv shows about lesbians. It was like I desperately needed to see myself in something that could validate what I was feeling. Like I needed to see that I didn’t have to act a certain stereotypical way to be feeling the way I was. Where I could see a gay character that wasn’t one dimensional. That showcased a variety of authentic gay relationships that weren’t pervy or flat. And when I did find shows like that, it made all the difference in the world. #WayHaught
By that point I was in full gay panic. I was sorta kinda dating this guy who wasn’t even horrible but definitely didn’t make me feel the way she did and I did not know what to do with this new information about myself. Was I gay??? Did I like her??? Suddenly I was spiraling into a void of self-doubt and fear with a dash of excitement and hope. I didn’t exactly know what I was going to do, but the answers came soon enough…
We decided to have a sleepover with my best friend and watch Girltrash the movie (if you haven’t seen it you’re missing out, it’s literally about lesbians in a rock band AND it’s a musical). Anyway, so there we were. Laying next to each other in my bed. My best friend was asleep by that point, or at least we thought she was at the time (we found out later she wasn’t actually asleep but didn’t want to ruin our moment so shout out to her, thanks for being a homie). Meanwhile, I was painfully aware of every breath I made. Every move. I was finding it extremely difficult to keep my eyes on the tv. Finally, after sitting through the entire movie in a state of stomach-turning anticipation, the protagonists in the movie had their climatic kissing scene and all I remember is her turning to me with this smirk on her face and asking me, “so are you gonna kiss me or what?”
So I did.
And a fundamental shift took place inside me at that moment, like a light finally getting turned on after years in the dark or a giant puzzle piece clicking into place. It was easy. It was carefree. It was scary, sexy, and safe all at the same time. It was in that moment, making out with a cheerleader in my lap, that for the first time I thought… I am SO fucking gay.
Now I’m definitely not saying we lived happily ever after and that was that. No, high school is never that easy. We had a very intense run that was destined for failure simply due to the fact that she could never be fully out and openly gay due to her family. She ended up moving to the city and a different school, and being my first love of course I thought we should keep trying anyway and well, it just didn’t work out.
I have some very dark self-reflective memories from back then, as well as some really beautiful ones with her. All in all I’m extremely grateful for the experience and for that girl, who had such a crucial role in helping me discover myself, and a truly hope she’s doing well these days. After all, if it wasn’t for that self-realization, I never would have come into my own the way I did at the end of high school.
During my senior year I finally decided to act and compete in theater instead of just being behind the curtain. I became the mascot because why the fuck not? I ran for homecoming queen as a joke and actually won. I was friends with anyone from any side of the social spectrum and I graduated high school in a much more positive place than I started.
Because after everything that had happened, I completely and utterly embraced being a girl and being gay. Everything just made so much more sense. Why couldn’t I be all the things that made me feel more, well, me? Like guitar, leather jackets, makeup, and motorcycles? Coming out completely changed my take on life. I didn’t just come out of the closet, I came out of my shell.
Now at almost 22 years old, I’ve done things I never would have thought I’d have the courage to do. I survived the death of my mother, something I thought surely would have killed me. I learned to support myself completely. I started a career as a 911 dispatcher. My band recently went to the studio to record our first EP and have shows lined up later this year. I decided to stop being so scared all the time, that if I’m being true to myself and who I am, it doesn’t matter if I fail at times. I’ve continuously kept trying to do what makes me happy and the results have been boundless. I’ve learned SO much about who I want to be and the positive impact I want to make in this world. All because I was completely, truly, and still unapologetically me.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk, have a nice life nerds, and don’t forget to love yourself!
