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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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I don’t put labels on myself.

Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.

Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.

This is me

I love being happy

I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy

#OutIsTheNewIn

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

“I am enough”, Monica

I think I always knew but I denied the ever obvious signs or evidence or feelings that I had towards the same sex. By the time I did come out I had fooled the world all the while punishing and with-holding truth from myself. I came from a Republic and Catholic family and also when to Catholic School my entire life. Being told that what I was feeling was a sin and that I would most likely go to hell I quickly realized that I was worth nothing just because of those facts. As I grew I started to open my eyes to the outside world. To see the things I was always “forbidden” to see. To see beauty in something rather than the sin. I live in Seattle and when I was 21 I moved to So. Cal for a few years and it was then that I had my first kiss with a woman. It was like the darkness in me disappeared and the light that I always pushed down took its place. After a few years of So. Cal, I moved back home and had to face the truth and tell my family. I was 24 years old when I told my family and the hurt that was said, the worries, the pains, the agony, and torture came bubbling back up only to have be reinforced with a family member telling me “I wish you would’ve been a miscarriage.” Those words burned into absorbed my heart and mind for months.
I remember walking down the street one day and it hit me like a ton of bricks and for the first time in my life I asked myself “how can something like loving someone be wrong?” I then drove to my parents house and said “if you can’t accept me then you aren’t deserving enough to be apart of my life because I am a good person who desires the world to be its true authentic self in love.” Walked out didn’t speak to my family for a while after that.

I am lucky enough that my family did come around. I married my incredible wife when it first became legal in Washington State on December 8, 2012 and have never looked back. My family loves my wife as they do our two beautiful, strong, and determined daughters. I am so grateful for the road that has taken me to where I am though incredible painful, I am not sure I would be me if I hadn’t.

I so believe in this community because it is based on love. Something that should be seen, heard, and felt. I am so grateful and proud that I get to live my truth everyday. That I get to be the best of me because I now know that “I am enough.”

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.

A non binary man living free.

I was born a girl. I was always kind of normal person, as a kid, but a lot masculine. At the age of 12, I knew I was gay and at the time, it was a society that wasn’t very ‘welcoming’ to gay people and I experienced that. I didn’t make a coming out to anyone, I just joined with a lesbian friend and people start assuming I was gay too. I noticed my closest friends being weird with me. At school, when we were in gym class, the girls, my friends for ages, would hide changing their closest next to me, and with the time, they started ‘getting away’ and talking behind my back. So, by time it was high school, they all went to the same school and I decided to change to a different school a bit far.
I wasn’t always very good at making friends, so when I lost everyone, I got really scared that I was gonna be alone. But then, about 2 days at high school, a group of girls came to me and asked for me to joined them. They didn’t asked anything about me, they just accept how I was and they loved me. And that was the best time of my life. There, I made friends for life!
By the time I went to college, I had a girlfriend, that in a year in college, we broke up.
I had a really hard time in college, I didn’t have anyone, I was completely alone. And that started to get to me. I had a depression, really bad, I just really wanted to die. I tried. But something at the time told me to hold on a bit more.
I got help and I got better, for a while. And 2 years into college, I had no high school girlfriend anymore and I had a few friends from my class. But I decided to focus and end college.
And now I did, I’m 22 years old and I just ended college.
Buuuut, this was only my story about being a gay women.

At the age of 14, I’ve always knew I was different, I felt different. I always hated my body and how it was. And at that time I discovered ‘trans’. I started searching about it and learning more, how it was done, how much it costs. And in Portugal (that’s where I live), the costs were a lot! I couldn’t afford it, not until I was like 30 years old. So I made a plan. I promised myself that I would end school as fast as I could and I would go to another country and there work and pay for surgery and hormones.
But – and this is an important part for everyone in a similar situation -, things on my head started getting worse. The profound hate with my body was awful. I started to cut myself. In my head, doing that was like a way to get to my really body, that was underneath the one I had that I hated. I also had depressions and 2 suicide atempts.
But one day, November of 2019, a friend of mine – not very close at the time – asked my if I ever thought about transexuality. And I told her the truth and my plan to finish school and go away to become me. And she was this amazing person that said ‘are you crazy?! you gotta start that s*** right now!’.
The first step was to come out to my parents. I came out to my sister in 2016 and she was okay with it. And then I came out to my mother in December 2019, and she was.. . okay…, I understand it is hard for parents and loved ones, but I only want them to be the same as they always were. My mom said that, if this is something I feel and want, it was my path, I need to so it alone. And that okay by me, that’s acceptable.
So, because if the incredible women that supported me and helped me to come out to my parents and ‘ordered’ me not to wait anymore, I started my transition.
Now, I’m about to start hormones and I’m working to get money for my surgery. And I’m happy! Really happy, for the first time in my life!

For anyone it a situation similar – don’t give up! Don’t wait!
If you love someone, go get them, no matter the sex or gender!
If you feel your different, don’t hide it, live your true self!
I know we still don’t live in a society that’s free and that accepts ‘different’ people. In this century, we should not have to hide and we should not have communities. We should all be one. But the world is this not and this amazing community will stand by you and help you and support you all the way and all the time!

We are united as one!

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

JENNIFER, 19, CISGENDER LESBIAN, SHE/HER

I first thought I might be gay when I was 11 (2011). It occurred to me that every ‘crush’ I’d had on boys had only ever been for show. Boys weren’t something I ever thought of that way unless prompted by peers or parents. I remember thinking over in my head ‘no, Jeni, you can’t be gay. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me’ and then I pushed it far back in my mind for years.
By high school (2013), I started to notice I was different. I happened to be in an all girls class so it was easy to notice. I was spending every day with 30 other 13yo girls and all of them obsessing over boys and I started to feel like something was wrong with me. Funnily enough, 13yo me didn’t even consider that I might be gay, I was just pleased to not be distracted from my school work and went on faking crushes on boys, barely realising that was what I was doing.
It took one of my close friends coming out as bisexual, in grade 9 (2014),to make me start thinking about that again, and I didn’t fully admit it to myself, that I liked girls, until I couldn’t deny my feelings for that friend.
I wanted to tell my best friend first but she was away sick from school the day I planned to do it. It made me sad all day and in English I ended up coming out my bi friend/crush as bisexual. I saw being bisexual as more ‘normal’; I was too scared to admit to anyone or even myself that I didn’t like boys. She took it well of course. I texted my other friend that afternoon and told her and she was supportive too.
The next person I told was my older sibling and they were great about it but warned me that our parents didn’t ‘believe’ in bisexuality.
Those first ‘coming outs’ went down in August 2014 right around my 14th birthday. By that September I told a classmate of mine (later became my best friend, now still a good friend) after she’d gushed to me about the boy she liked and then asked who I liked. And, after some nervous hesitation, I told her. She didn’t even question it she just said it was cute and wanted to hear more about the crush not my sexuality which was a huge relief.
The rest of my family (mum, dad, other two siblings) I came out to that October, when I started dating my bisexual friend, simply by telling them who I was dating. They weren’t not supportive. I didn’t expect them to have any ‘issues’ with it. But I can’t say I was happy about their reactions. All that sticks out to me is my dad joking ‘at least you won’t get pregnant’ (which hurt because I’ve always really really wanted to be a mum) and one of my siblings chiming in with another joke. And I can’t ever complain about that because they support me which is ‘lucky’.
My other friends and peers just found out by seeing me with my girlfriend, from what I remember. We didn’t hide it much at school, but there was still hate. I remember holding hands once on the way to class and some guy called us f*gs.
It took me a couple more years to let myself be just gay. I’m almost 20 now and still struggle to talk directly about how I’m attracted to women, unless I’m saying it in a joke. I still feel a bit ashamed at times when watching intimate moments between 2 women in shows/movies and even when no one else is in the room and it’s just kissing. I still have to worry about how anyone new I meet could be moderately to extremely homophobic. I still feel the need to come out to new people I meet. I still have to hide it from my homophobic grandparents. Some of it just really sucks.
But some of it is beautiful too and I try every day to focus on those parts more. My new goal, inspired by Dominique P-C, is to remind myself daily that my queerness is beautiful.

Jen

Well, I came out as a lesbian a few months ago, at 28. Looking back I can see how it was always there, but only recently I started being aware of it. I was always looking for signs, for something to happen to make me take that step. Like I would join a sport team, or wear flannel or convince my gay guy friend that we should go to a gay bar for him to meet guys. I guess I wanted someone to hold my hand and guide me across the “line”. But since this is real life and not a scripted b type movie, it never happened, and eventually I just kind of took a metaphorically deep breathe and jumped over myself. And now I’m here, still alone, but true to myself and my surrounding (who all took it very well.I live in a very open and liberal place so this was never a concern and I’m grateful for that) and finally I feel like I’m in the right direction to the life I’m meant live.
Thank you for this opportunity to share. I wish everyone happiness, joy, adventures and love- self love first and every other kind next.
Love,
Me

Young rainbow happily out and proud

I have two coming out storys, one from coming out to my family and the onther to my mom.
My coming out story to my family is kind of funny, but for me to explain it, i have to go a little back in time to my childhood.
Since i was a kid i have always known i liked boys and girls, it was not a big deal for me at all. When i became a teen i realized that the world doesn’t gave the same view as me, so i started to hide myself and try not to be “as gay”.
To be honest, i have no idea why i did that, because since small my parents were always really accepting and had a lot of gay and trans friends ( literally the suns and daughters of the two best friends of my father are openly gay).
Till today i think of why i hide my queerness from my parents. I came to the possible conclusion that it was because i didn’t have any good representation to confirm that i was a queer ( all of the midia representations were from people completely diferent than me) and i didn’t want to tell then i was a lesbian because i was not, i am a bisexual/queer.
On a day in july when i was 15 years old i was having a existential crisis because i had a big crush on a girl and just had to tell someon that i was gay, so i decided to call my cousing ( a bit of info about this cousin: she is 9 years older than me, she is my only cousing and im her only cousin. She is really open minded and its basically an older sister to me).
I called her and heard a music in the background so i asked her to turn it down, she asked someone to turn it down (i tought she was on her room and the other person on another room) and i started talking to her. First i asked her to not say that to anyone and then i told her that i liked a girl and i was gay and started crying really hard.
After that she YELLED “YOU ARE GAY?!?!?!? WHAT!!??”
i kept talking to her and explaining and asking what she thinked of it. She was completely fine with it but seemed stressed, so i turned off the call and went crying because i tought i losted my only cousing.
About 30 min later, one of my aunts called me. ( a bit about my family: i have a really small family, we are 10 in total and we are really close. They are really open minded too and since i can remember they always had gay friends and loved the gay community. Again i dont know why i didnt say anything to then).
My aunt was really quiet and talking slow asking me to go to my grandmas house, which was really weird for her because she is loud as fuck. I stopped crying and went there.
When i got to her house i realized that i forgot that the family was having an “festa junina” ( a traditional party from when i am) and everyone was there. From the moment i got there everyone was weird and looking at me and it was weird.
I went inside and was trying to find my aunt when she came to me and yelled ” HOW THE FUCK YOU ARE GAY AND IM NOT THE FIRST ONE TO KNOW?!”. at that moment i stoped and my heart started beating really fast. On that moment my cousin got in with a sorry face and then i realized that she YELLED “YOU ARE GAY” TO THE ENTIRE FAMILY AFTER SAYING I WAS ON THE PHONE CALLING HER.
My entire plan of coming out one by one went down and i wasn’t prepared to that, so i ran to the bathroom to cry without saying anything. When i got to the bathroom i saw a giant pile of rainbow ballons on the floor of the bathroom and then the YMCA song started on the living room ( thats their lgbt song basically), i opened the door and my aunt, cousing and grandma were ate the door smiling to me and with open arms to hug.
They told me that this doesnt mean anything to then and they love me.
After that i realised that i didnt like the girl and life went on. I have always been really shy and have never dated, so the subject of beeing gay didnt came out anymore. Until i was 19 years old and fell completely in love with a girl.
We started dating and i realized that i had to tell my mom about that but i didnt know how. (A bit about my mom: she is really loud, really stubborn and really funny. We used to fight a lot because im really activist about stuff and she didn’t care at all. After i came out i we realized that we were fighting because i was not in a happy place crushing down feelings and that made me really stressed and basically a really easy target to a fight) .
I had no idea what to do and was desperate. So to my surprise and luck the movie “love,simon” went to the theaters and we went to watch (we went to the cinema every week). In the middle of the movie, simon came out the his parents ( spilers lol) and after that i told my mom that i was like simon and she said ” its ok, i love you, i dont care if you like girls or boys”. I started smiling really hard and went to a giant hug. The lady behind me started clapping really loud and i looked at her,she was smiling really hard and asked me in a low voice if she could say it, i didnt understood what she meant but i said yes, just because i was really happy. She stand up and said really loud ” this girl just came out to her mom and she suports her, lets clap to this please!! And after that the entire movie theater started clapping. I think it couldn’t be better than this.
My family is really close to my girlfriend, we even went to pride last year and my family was matching colorsto make a rainbow. My coming out story is so surreal even to me that i sometimes think im dreaming all of it. I wish everyone could have a coming out story like this too.

Christine

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.