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Out Is The New In​

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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

Progression not Perfection from a gay mormon

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.

My journey is far from over, stalled out yes but not over…not yet. I was born and raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons-not the polygamist version). When I look back over my life, I realize that I felt different, broken…a mistake when I was 3 or 4. Going through life, church every Sunday, church activities almost every evening, seminary in the mornings…year after year. I tried so hard to be just like everyone else. But I felt something for women that I didn’t feel for men…while I didn’t understand what any of those feelings meant I knew I needed to keep my secret…a secret I didn’t even know about. I didn’t meet anyone who was gay until I was 21-ish and still had no idea I could be gay until I was 24 or so. Xena was the first suggested gay anything I had ever known. I fought against it so hard, I was always the “tomboy” and hated with a passion when someone would call me gay. As if at that time I even knew what gay was, I just knew that you couldn’t be gay and be in the church. You can’t go to heaven unless you marry in the temple. I had to be straight but I hated the idea of being with a man. After all, men were the ones who told me what I could do with my body, men were the ones that used my body before I ever knew what my body was for. But women were safe, soft and caring. I fell in love with my best friend in 1st grade but had no idea at the time what I was. Who I am. Just that I had to keep it a secret. I tried killing myself in high school…for a lot of reasons really, but mostly because I felt and had learned that I was a mistake, that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t normal. But I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted. My junior year of college I met gay people for the first time, and suddenly life started making sense. Their stories were like mine, the confusion, the loss and the horrible lonely ache of feeling like you can’t be you. At that time though, only church members were really in my life…when they started suspecting I was kicked out of two separate housing locations, I lost my all of my friends. All of them. It wasn’t hard coming out to my mom, bless her soul she has loved me and supported me even when I hate myself. She is the only reason I exist now. Dad, well…I’ve blocked most of it out but remember him with a steak knife. The majority of my family loves the sinner but hates the sin. I’ve been fired from jobs for being gay. I’ve been beaten up, called names, spit at and threatened…but I can’t change who I am. I still feel like a mistake, either waiting to die or waiting for life to start…and while I have no idea what actually happens in the afterlife…I know that I live with integrity. I help those less fortunate than me, I help lost and abandoned animals, I give to charities and I work with some of the most challenging of clients in my professional life…I’m not gloating, not puffing my chest. Just saying that I’m being me, all of me. I am gay. I love women. I love helping others. I firmly believe that if we do our best every day, no matter what the best looks like…that maybe God/the universe will understand that I am the way I was made as God intended. Yes, I still feel broken, lost and a mistake…and if being gay keeps me from heaven, then sadly I admit okay. I cannot change who I am any more than I can change my blood type. I cannot change my faith even if my church hates me. Coming to terms with yourself is not a destination, it is a journey and I am far from the end. Yes some days are better than others, and some days I am a victim to my own mind but this I promise…I will never give up my integrity as a good human. An empath. A gay Mormon. Had God wanted me different, then I would be different. No matter where you are in your journey…know others have been there. While the steps are not the same, the feelings are. Don’t let anyone steal your shine. You are worth it. Every little bit. You are worth it and so much more. Be at peace and know you are loved. <3 Deb

Blood & Water

Growing up I had an open relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. My mom was a very good listener and had a gift for making her home a safe place for kids. I have distinct memories of my best friends, going through rough times (either life-altering crisis…or in hindsight not so serious teenage dramatics) coming over to feel “heard.” She’d listen and understand and when she’d leave after hugging us goodnight my friends would often say something like “I wish my mom and I could talk that way.”

Fast forward to the summer of my senior year in college. At the time I was in a 2-year relationship with a beautifully kind guy my family, and heck myself thought I’d marry soon after graduating. I was taking a summer course and decided to live in the dorms with one of my best college friends and teammate, “Bell.” (for purposes of this story) Her best friend/partner, now spouse, was bunked up with a girl that would end up playing a pretty big role in my coming out story. “Bell” was pretty involved in the LGBTQ community as her partner had at that time recently come out as trans. By then they had fought through most of what would be their uphill battle as an LGBTQ couple at a very Catholic school. This context is important because by that summer I had introduced them to my mom. She was kind and treated them like any other person I cared about. This little detail will throw me for a loop later…

One summer night a group of us decided to go to a Gay club. It wasn’t my first time going, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say some part of me knew something was going to happen. The night ended with me kissing the girl I mentioned and making the conscious decision to see what sleeping with her felt like. My understanding of my sexuality at that time was that I enjoyed having sex with men, I loved a few along the way…and if I ever found myself being attracted to women, I’d simply add them to the list of people I was also into. I’d say I had a very matter of fact feeling about my sexuality. Love is Love… and I’m straight.

My mom called the next morning and I answered, “Hi, I’m hungover as hell and a girl kissed me last night.” I remember her laughing and asking if I was going to tell my boyfriend. The conversation went on and now that I’ve since been to therapy (which rocks btw) I can clearly remember the sound of how casually I lied to my mom. The truth was that I was interested in this girl since summer started, I leaned in first, she leaned in back, we kissed, and I made the mental call to go home with her that night. I realized I was slightly full of shit when it came to honesty. With others…and myself. Sure, I kissed girls in High School on “dares,” but never admitted I liked it and maybe… (not so maybe) put myself in a position to take those particular dares on purpose. I told myself, my parents, and friends what made sense about boyfriends I genuinely loved as people, but possibly never really liked as partners.

All in all, the open relationship I thought I had with my parents wasn’t so open. And that was on me. However, the fears that kept me from being honest then and now (still healing) were realized when I broke things off with my boyfriend and called my mom to tell her I was, “pursuing a relationship with the girl” I had told her about. She screamed, my parents cried, they cancelled my phone plan, closed my bank account, sicced my very Mexican very old school grandma on me, and of course, “cursed the day they spent 6 figures sending me to a Catholic school to become a lesbian,” etc. I laugh at this all now (again… thank you therapy) because it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to start “adulting,” but I’d be remiss to say it didn’t crush me. A. because I was surprised, they reacted the way they did given how open they had been with my friends and their experiences. (Although clearly my subconscious was on to something lol) B. I began to associate my self-worth with monetary value. Money and acceptance were twisted into a very messy and conditional thing that I would later need to work out. Money of course screaming PRIVELEGE. (Insert: Unlike a lot of my LGBTQ family I am a white passing, middle class, college educated women, and because of these things I was born into I was in an ideal position to get back on my feet, quickly.) And acceptance of course being something too many of us struggle with on a daily basis.

Fast forward to ending a very toxic and abusive relationship with the girl from the gay bar, moving into my own place (parents eagerly paying for the Uhaul when I announced I had left her… there’s an ironic gay joke in there somewhere) and meeting my now wife amid the chaos. At that point I was out to my friends and sister but had never said the words “I’m Gay” to my parents. Sidenote: I never said those words to my friends or sister either, beautifully enough I simply told them I’ve met this amazing girl and it’s going well…they didn’t need the labels.

After 6 months of dating my then girlfriend I told my parents I was in a relationship. Fast forward another 6 months of my dad telling me they weren’t ready to meet her I decided to propose knowing I couldn’t wait for them to come around. We got married a year and a half later and they didn’t show up to the wedding. We’ve been married for 2 years and are now trying to start our family!

They probably won’t ever meet my wife, and our future kids, but I’ve learned that coming out and coming into myself was something I did unconditionally. A sort of promise I made to myself and the world (Insert: source or the universe, g.d, or whatever works for you) that I would dedicate my authenticity to the balance of justice and harmony. And although that balancing act is sometimes very hard with people like my parents it makes for clear boundaries… simply put, seek justice when the rights of others are at risk (i.e when I don’t stand up for myself, my community…or other marginalized peoples)…and seek harmony when recognizing one another’s humanity will birth compassion and perhaps strides towards progress and understanding. (I struggle with the latter)

The last and most important thing I’d like to share, and the gift of my life is my chosen family. It may be cliché and an unfortunate necessity for many of us in the LGBTQ community, but the friends I have found and the family I have built is more than I could have imagined. I have a sister that walked me down the aisle, best friends whose parents showed up to celebrate my engagement, witness my first look with my wife, celebrate my marriage, create and celebrate new holiday traditions, and last but not least show up for every major life moment no matter the miles between us. I’ve found friends and bonus parents that will help raise my children and teach me how to be a wife, mother and the best version of myself. Sure, there is pain, but like many quotes that are historically misinterpreted, “blood is thicker than water,” really means that the blood shared on the battlefield is thicker than the water of the womb. And trust me the people who have chosen to fight for me and those I’ve chosen to fight beside are sure as shit there. Always.

For anyone needing to hear this: “You are loved, and it gets better.”

My coming-out journey : 20 years old lesbian in France

I have turned 20 only a few months ago, but it took me some time to identify and accept who I am: a proud lesbian.

When I was around 12, I talked with a girl who were a few years older than me and who was bisexual. My first question (once I learned what it was from her), was: “How did you know?”
For me, who didn’t even know that heterosexuality wasn’t the only sexuality existing, it was a chock! Her answer gave me the final electroshock I needed: “I just know”.
She just knew! What an answer for the young girl that I was! And from this point, I started thinking. I remembered all the times were I looked at girls, all the times I wanted to be close to them, all the times I had feel things that I didn’t know how to interpret when I looked at some of my friends… And then I compared it with how I was reacting to boys, especially the ones that I dated (even if, well, dating at 12 years old isn’t much more than holding hands and playing video games). The more I thought about it the more I realized that even the fact of holding the hand of my boyfriend was something that gave me goose bumps, and not the right kind.

A few years passed, and when I started high school I still didn’t accepted myself as a lesbian. I had only decided to hide this, even if I didn’t really know about homophobia and all. I wanted to be like everyone else, not different. And it wasn’t exactly as if a lot of cartoon characters were queer when I grew up, so the only person that I knew was queer was the bisexual girl from when I was 12! What a great representation of diversity!
But, one day, I just couldn’t hide the truth to myself anymore: I was having a mega crush on my best friend! Very soon I told her, and even if it was a little difficult for me to live with that, she totally accepted me. And it was the first step of my coming-out.
At first, I still didn’t really accept that I was a lesbian, so, I decided to tell my friends that I was bisexual. Like that I could still hide the part of me that loved girls… and I started dating boys again. Not my best idea since the few kiss that I had with them made me so mentally sick that I couldn’t be close to a guy in the next months without frowning ! (Yeah I must have been dramatic too, but hey, what do you expect from a queer artistic woman?). Anyway, I quickly realized after that, that boys weren’t at all what I wanted.

From there, I decided to tell my friends that I was a lesbian. They all accepted me and supported me. And it was so freeing to finally admit it! It didn’t mean that I was really “proud” of it. My friends knew it, but I didn’t want other people to know.
Then, I told my parents, who were totally supportive, and I’ll always remember my mom saying: “Yeah, I never pictured you coming home with a guy. I guess I just knew”.
I was 18 and my friends and parents knew who I was, they supported me, but me I had still issues with this. I had to wait to enter to university and to meet with new friends, who were all queer, to really admit and be proud of my sexuality. I met with all kind of person who had other genders and sexualities than what I had knew my whole life. They accepted me, and seeing them this free and proud just made it easier for me to feel the same way.

I’m 20 now, and I’m a proud out lesbian. Well, out, yes and no. I don’t really fell like my coming-out is really over, because they’re still two people at whom I haven’t said anything: my grandparents. I know that they’re homophobic and absolutely non-supportive of difference. We already have a complicated relationship, and I’m afraid of telling them this about me, because I’m pretty sure that it would mean the end of our relationship…
So yeah, I’m proud of who I am and don’t hide it anymore. I’m glad to be in the light and to be out, but I know that I haven’t really finished my coming-out journey. Telling my grandparents will be my last step in order to completely be honest about all this.

If I have learned something from all of this is that no matter who you are, if you aren’t ready, you don’t have to come into the light. All that matters is to do it at your own rhythm, step by step. Coming-out is the most freeing experience of my life, and I’m glad that I had to do it in order to be who I am today, but it isn’t something that must be forced on you: you just have to take your time and do it when you’re ready.

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.

I’m Libby and i have not found a label that i think perfectly fits me

i came out in October of 2017 to my parents.
i told my brother and sister before anyone else in august that year, then a few of my closest friends.
i wasn’t too sure of what label to come out with so when i spoke to my mum i said i was bisexual a thought it would be easier to come out with a known label.

it is now September of 2020, almost 3 years later and i am in a relationship with my amazing girlfriend, Rachael, who wasn’t out to anyone, infact when we met she didn’t even know she liked girls.
However, we’ve been together about a year and 8 months.
we have gone through our ups and downs by we are all round happy and in love.

i was personally helped a lot by Wynonna Earp and the representation on the show,
obviously the relationship between Waverly and Nicole and the way it began and grew amazingly, helped me
along with watching all the cast at conventions and the wayhaught panels.

I personally felt free after i came out and started to be true to who i was and i couldn’t have asked for a better more supporting family.
i was so lucky to have been brought up in this amazing accepting environment and i will always be immensely greatful to my family and friends.

i am unsure what my label is

bisexual?
queer?

i don’t know, but i do know i will be accepted and loved either way

as Dominique Provost- Chalkley put it “i guess i’m in love with love”

My journey: From then to now

My journey started young, but took quite a while to get where I am now.

I was 8 years old when I had my first indication. Now at the time I had no idea what it meant. I was on a little league softball team with all girls. There was this one girl whom I absolutely adored. She was older than me and took to me like a younger sister. I loved all the attention. I didn’t really understand at the time, but I remember the feeling. I wanted her to hang out with me, hug me, play with me, and no one else. I would get insanely jealous and do crazier and crazier things just to get and keep her attention. Because when it was on me, I was so happy and warm, and felt like the most special person in the world. At the time, and years looking back, I believed this just to be normal. I just really wanted to be her friend. After that season we drifted, she was older after all and moved on to middle school and I stayed in elementary.

Then when it was my turn to move to middle school, I got a new neighbor. She was exactly my age, only three months younger, so we would both be going to school together. I hated her at first, honestly I’m not sure why, she did nothing. But that hate eventually turned to a strong, strong like. And, since she lived right next door and we were in the same grade, naturally we did everything together. We basically lived at each other’s houses. We were completely inseparable and spent every waking moment together. We became close. We used to cuddle and hold hands, kiss each other on the cheek, hold each other as we cried. Without knowing it, she had become my everything. I didn’t realize most of the things we did were not just friendly things. Not until I turned 12 and came across a show called South of Nowhere. It featured two female leads who fell in love with one another. It was like something clicked inside me, and a piece of me was revealed. I didn’t admit it to myself, but deep down I knew.

With being so young I turned to my mom. I explained everything to her, and I remember she was polite but didn’t understand. She asked me why I felt this way, why that show, with the girl couple, made me think I was that way. I told her it was easy.

Now being young I couldn’t articulate that I didn’t really mean easy; I meant that everything had just fallen into place. I remember she told me it was just a show, scripted, and that life was never that easy, and that if I was into girls it would only make it harder.

I turned to my best friend next. Told her of what I’d discovered and how I felt. She seemed shocked but curious. We stayed close for a few weeks until one day she kissed me. I had read in books how your heart accelerates and you breath catches in you throat. I had thought that was just fiction, but in that moment I felt everything. It felt like fireworks and everything everyone had always said. But then she pulled back, told me that it was a mistake, and ran off.

I didn’t see her for weeks. I was completely heart broken. I tried to talk to her, to get her to even just look at me in class or on the bus, but she didn’t. Finally she came to me with an ultimatum. She was straight and could not be friends with me if I felt the way I did, if I was the way I was. So I told her I made a mistake, that I wasn’t any different from her. I just got caught up in the show, thought it was cool. We stayed friends after that but not nearly as close. And we drifted away in high school.

I had pushed that revelation so far down in my mind that I didn’t think about it. I still had feelings of course. I would see a pretty girl and get this urge to talk to her, to make her like me and be friends. But I always told myself it was just because I wanted a new best friend. Or i wanted to be like her, look like her, that’s why I found her so pretty, so interesting.

I faked crushes on boys and had fake boyfriends. But we never went further than making out and even then it was gross and uncomfortable. But I thought that’s just how it was.

Then finally I went off to college. I discovered this YouTube channel on a fluke, of two women happily married. I watched every single video on that channel. I took “am i gay quizzes” and did so much research you’d think I had a paper to write. Finally after years and years of pushing down who I really was, I decided to try accepting it. All of my research led me to realize what I was feeling wasn’t bad or abnormal. Others were out there with the same experiences. So I started to accept it.

A year later I officially came out to my mom. It took me almost 10 minutes just to utter the words. “Lesbian” stuck in my throat like a brick. I’d never said it aloud before. I cried so hard after just saying it, it was so freeing and felt so good. My mom was pretty accepting which I was thankful for.

I came out to my new best friend who said she really wasn’t surprised and was extremely proud of me.

Next was my dad, he wasn’t as accepting, didn’t understand. But eventually he came around. A few years after I told him he amended one of his statements about my future husband to maybe future wife and I cried.

My sister was a bit funnier. I told her at lunch and she did a spit take. Told me she should have known by my giant pause beforehand. But she had gay friends and was very supportive also.

I was so incredibly lucky that my family was supportive. I was so lucky that they still loved me and accepted me for who I was.

I still have days where everything seems impossible. Where I’m so frustrated at the world for not accepting my community or being cruel to them. But then I have days where I see happiness and love. Where I remember how far we’ve come, how far I’ve come, and I’m so incredibly proud.

Now, at 23, I’ve just come to realized that maybe I’m not so monogamous. That made the term polyamorous also suits me quite well.

I haven’t said this part aloud yet, or told anyone. So if you’re reading this, surprise, it’s my second coming out. I just might be a polyamorous lesbian.

Either way, I’m so glad to be apart of this community. And although I may not have it all figured out, that’s alright. We are constantly evolving and changing.

And I know that either way, whatever happens or whatever way I choose to identify: everything will be okay.

The Right People Will Always Stand By You

I knew when I was 14 that I was a lesbian. I actually had a friend in the LGBTQIA+ community that I had talked about for a while. When I was questioning my sexuality and trying to understand why I was feeling disconnected from all the girls talking about the Hemsworth brothers. We would be up at night, and he would just ask me questions. “What attracts you to a person? What do you imagine your partner to look like? What type of people catches your eye? Is there someone that you like now?” It just helped to have someone asking and just listening. A year later, as a kind of joke later when I was telling him about the people that I’ve told, he said, “You never officially told me you’re a lesbian.” Anyone who studied the performative understands where this is a little funny. He has just been such a great rock for me, and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

I came out to people in so many different ways. I told someone at dinner at IHOP. A friend I already came out to gave me an opening, and I said, “I haven’t told my parents this yet, but I’m gay.” She didn’t make any jokes or say, “I hope you aren’t trying to make a move on me” or anything like that. She was just supportive, and I could not ask for better friends in my life. It became a game of who have I told and who can they say things in front of. I sent someone Ally Hill’s Coming Out song, others from texts, during ice skating, and now just from passing comments rather than me announcing it to everyone.

The person I was most scared to tell was a teacher that became more of a friend over the years. I wanted to tell her because she saved me from myself and gave me the best chemistry education I could ask for. As she was my teacher, she couldn’t discuss her stance on things, so I had no idea how she would react. She moved schools, and I felt like telling her deserved more than an email, so I waited for when she visited, and I gave her a letter. It explained I was gay when I knew why I wanted to tell her, and why I am so scared. She emailed me later and said, “there is nothing you can do or say that will make me love you any less, ok?” It just made me feel like everything is ok and that I’m not going to lose someone over this part of me.

I tell people that I feel are important in my life, and I refuse to tell people that would put me in a bad situation or disregard it in any way. I’m 17, and I haven’t told anyone in my family, but I’ve told the people that I feel comfortable with it. Coming out will be something constant, and everyone has the right to come out when and how they want. There is no time frame and no expectations other than being authentically you. I’ve had a very positive coming out experience. Still, a lot of people don’t have that, and I want people to know that you will always have this community in your corner. You’re not alone, and we will all be here for you.

Amanda, NJ

My journey started super early, because I always sort of knew I was gay, it just took me a while to realize/ accept it.
In 7th grade, I dated a girl for a week (you know how middle school relationships are) because I was impulsive and really just wanted to be in a relationship. The problem, though, was that I never accepted myself. I wasn’t able to say that I was gay. I never even really came out to my friends. I sort of just said that I liked a girl, and they didn’t bat an eye (and for that I consider myself super lucky). But once word got out about this “relationship,” so many of my peers questioned me, asking me if I was a lesbian or if I was bisexual. I always answered with “no, no, I’m bi” because in my head that meant that I was still “normal.” So basically, I was forced out of the closet to my school before I was really ready to come out to myself.
Even though I was technically out in 7th grade, I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until sophomore year. This is very cliche, but I remember looking myself in the mirror, and literally saying to myself “I’m gay,” over and over. Even though I was out for 3 years, it was still the first time I said it out loud to myself and it actually meant something to me.
I think this is a good time to mention that I come from a Christian household. My uncle, who unfortunately passed, was gay, and I was always scared that since my grandparents didn’t really accept him, that meant my parents wouldn’t really accept me. I remember one specific time, there were two men dancing with each other on screen. There was definitely no way in telling if either of these individuals were gay, but my father just scoffed. I asked him what was wrong, and he pointed to the screen and said “you know what’s wrong with that.” I think that that small interaction is really what scared me away from coming to terms with my sexuality.
Sophomore year I found a real girlfriend, and I thought that it was time I told my parents that I was gay. I knew my mom wasn’t homophobic, but I was terrified because I was her only girl (I have three older brothers). I always felt like I disappointed her because I was never a “girly-girl” or anything like that. There have been numerous times where she would yell at me for not being feminine. Anyways, I told her that I would potentially be going to prom with someone. She listed off the names of boys until I stopped her. Then she guessed my girlfriend at the time, and I broke down. She also started crying, and she told me that she would always love me, and gave my that typical parent response, which I actually appreciated.
I never told my dad that I was gay, my mom did. She told me to tell him, but she knew I wouldn’t be able to. Then, we didn’t talk for 3 months. Looking back, I realized that he wasn’t mad at me for being gay, he was upset that I couldn’t tell him myself. Our silent-treatment broke one day when I started playing his favorite song on guitar, and now he actually acknowledges the fact that I’m gay.
I never told my brothers explicitly that I’m gay, I just told them that I had/have a girlfriend, and they didn’t question it.
I consider myself super lucky to have the people that I have in my life. However, the fear will always linger with me whenever I meet new people. I don’t know if anyone actually read this or not, but I hope that my story gives everyone else out there some form of hope. It’s important to realize that you will never be alone, no matter how lonely you feel. We’re lucky enough to be growing up in a generation that has resources, like Start the Wave, that acknowledge how important representation is.
I know that I am super thankful that I have role models, like Dominique P-C, that are so determined to make people feel less alone. I speak for myself when I say that organizations like this really do save people.

I like to identify as Gay / Lesbian

Growing up it wasn’t gay or lesbian. In my house it was “homosexual” and it certainly was not a topic of conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I was never told it was a bad thing. My church didn’t tell me I was going to hell. It just simply was not talked about and according to my Mom it was a mental illness that could be cured with therapy (although it had been removed from the DSM in 1973.) When I think back on it I probably started questioning my sexuality when I was about 12 or 13. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening. I just knew that any time I would talk about having a crush on a guy it felt forced. My budding teenage self didn’t have a clue.

When I first started questioning the only out Lesbians, I knew of was a teacher that used to work at the school where my Mom taught. My mom vilified her and talked about how much she disliked her. The other out lesbian I knew of was K.D. Lang. Again, my mind wasn’t thinking in terms of lesbian or gay. These were unfamiliar terms for me. I had heard them, but they almost felt dirty.

At the same time my brother who was of college age would come home talking about bands that were playing at his college, bands like Indigo Girls, REM, B-52s (yes, I am a Georgia girl.) My brother would also frequently talk about his friendship with Keith. I remember wanting to have a solid friendship like my brother had with Keith. I never had many friends growing up. I was very Introverted, still am, bordering on the clinical diagnosis of shy. My friend was whatever book I was reading at the time and the adventures it would show me.

I had been told by my Mom that it was normal for girls to be curious about other girls. Because my Mom said my feelings were normal, I never really felt like I was questioning anything. I just thought all girls thought like I did, and it was OK. Any time I felt weird about anything there was always an explanation. I would get embarrassed having to change out for gym because I was trying so hard to control where my eyes went. Mom said, “honey that’s normal everybody is embarrassed to change out for gym.” I would get “girl crushes” all the time. Mom said, “honey that’s normal girls get crushes on other girls all the time.” There was always an explanation for how I was feeling, and it was always “normal.”

When I was 19, I had just ended my first relationship. It was my first romantic relationship and the one and only relationship with a man. I was in college living at home. I was being exposed to different things. Indigo Girls where my favorite musicians followed up with Melissa Ethridge coming in at a close second. A friend of mine took me to a gay bar. I was more nervous about using an ID that did not belong to me to get in than I was to go to a gay bar. The ID wasn’t fake, it just wasn’t mine.

Once inside I remember seeing a young man with short blond hair. I only saw him from the back. But from the angle I saw he looked good. I remember commenting to my friend “to bad he is gay, he looks cute.” My friend said, “oh, that’s Chris, I’ll introduce you.” The introduction never happened. I remember being socially terrified and ran to the bathroom so I could hide. Later I found out that my friend had given Chris my phone number and told her I was interested. I was mortified both that I hid and that my friend had said I was interested in her. Chris never did call but I was secretly hoping she would.

As I am writing this and now looking back, clearly, I was a Lesbian. I was so “normal” I just hadn’t figured it out yet. I started to test the waters at this time with the idea of coming out and was desperately looking for someone who I could tell and would help me with my journey. I knew no one. I had always been told anything I needed to know I could learn from books. This was pre-internet. I couldn’t find any books about it. There was not gay/lesbian section in my local bookstore. I was a English major at the time so I used the reference section of my college library to find anything I could about being a lesbian. Most everything I found was related to men and it was some interesting at times and weird at times information. It just never told me what I wanted to know. I tried to come out to a person at my church at the time. I was told she was going through a divorce at the time and couldn’t deal with my problems too. It was probably the best.

Skip a few years ahead, I am now 21. Ellen has just come out. Now I know of three people who are out lesbians. My list was growing. The Internet was all the rage. If you were anybody, you had AOL and you would check out chat rooms to “meet” people outside of your bubble. This is where I ultimately met my first girlfriend. We had been “chatting” with each other for a couple of months before she said “hey, we should meet!” I knew she lived north of Atlanta. I had not seen a picture. I hadn’t even come out yet. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was interested the meet this person I seemed to know so intimately yet did not know at all. My over-protective mother had never allowed me to drive to Atlanta. I wasn’t sure how she would take this news. I knew there was no way I could tell her, “Mom, I’m driving to Atlanta to meet a girl that I think I might like. We have been talking on the computer for months. No, I don’t know what she looks like. Yes, I am going.” So, I told my Mom that I was going to Atlanta to visit my brother and Keith. Yes, they finally moved in together.

I wasn’t stupid, I knew if I was going to some random bookstore to meet someone, I had never seen I should probably tell someone. Just in case. I couldn’t tell my brother. I cornered Keith in their kitchen and said, “Before I tell you anything, I need to know that you and my brother are a couple.” Keith responded with calling out my brother’s name and saying, “get your ass in here and tell your sister that you are gay.” Learning this news opened so much more. It now meant that I had someone I could talk to. I “fessed up” and told them my plans. They were both very encouraging and told me to have fun.

It was on this occasion in October of 1998 that the woman I was supposed to meet kissed me. I had been kissed before but this time I understood what people meant when then said something was magical or they saw fireworks. I wish I could say that this first girlfriend and I fell in love and lived happily ever after. That is okay because eight years later when it was the right time for both of us, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 14 years.

A. Ward – Georgia