I need to start by saying that my story is a cliché, I usually refer to it that way. But I think the good thing about clichés is that they reach people with a lot of truth, because it’s also the story of a lot of people. So come on.
I am the daughter of separated parents and grew up in a poor community in northeastern Brazil. My parents split up when I was months old and my mother ended up raising me without my father’s help. I lived until my adolescence at my maternal grandmother’s house together with my mother and an uncle. And after that my mother had a partner with whom we went to live for a few years.
It started when I started walking. My mom says that when I started taking my first steps I started going to church. At less than two years old I started going to church. I just went in there and sat down, nobody took me. Even my mother, my grandmother and my uncle I lived with, nobody went to church and in fact they didn’t even like it very much. As it is very hot here most of the year, I would leave the house wearing panties and flip-flops and enter the church at any time, all that was needed was for the door to be open.
The first person I attracted me romantically was my Bible school teacher, I must have been about 8 years old. I didn’t know what I called that feeling, I just know that I wanted to be close to her, touch her, watch her and try to somehow look like her or imitate her in some things. In parallel, I was absorbing and learning about sin, guilt and hell. As I grew up, both things became part of me, and as a teenager I had my affective experiences, both with boys and girls. And then at that time I stopped attending church.
From there, I started to get interested and research about possible theories and explanations to understand this concept so complex that it is sexuality. I consumed materials from both psychological science, biology and the animal kingdom as well as theories of the Christian segment. Despite feeling trapped and suffocated in that search, I really believed in God and wanted to find positive answers in all of that.
When I turned 18 I went back to church, got baptized and tried my best to get close to God. I started to be part of that community. I joined the music and communication group, made myself available to help with various activities, dedicated a part of my salary to deliver to the church every month and help with other campaigns. Sometimes I arrived before the doorman and left with him. I read the Bible a lot, the most complex and contradictory texts, I searched for the original language to understand the most accurate possible translation, I bought several study bibles and biblical dictionaries, I read books and everything else you can imagine.
In parallel to that, at the age of 20 I entered the faculty of Psychology, and then I thought: now I will learn and discover many things about the human being, his interactions and his behavior. So I will seek to study and learn about God in the same way, in an attempt to balance things out.
But, before talking about everything I lived and learned in college, I need to talk about my faith. I really believed in God. I really enjoyed being part of the church and belonging to a community. I learned many good things there and many of the things I learned with faith helped me to become what I am today and of whom I am very proud. A lot of that universe is really part of me. I met people that I can say that made a lot of difference in my life and helped me when I had several problems and difficulties, and who are by my side today.
Despite these things that I see as positive, there were so many others that hurt me too much. There were so many jokes, comments … I saw people being removed and expelled from their activities and positions in the church because of their sexuality. People who had to undergo various rituals and procedures of deprivation of so many things so that they could participate again. I was really reflective on how this topic was always prominent in the church. I heard several messages about it, so many damn jokes that even today I can clearly hear the pastor’s voice in my head with so much irony. It hurt, it really hurt.
I started to think about these parallel universes that may exist, like the one in the church, that managed to make me feel small and insignificant, because it seemed that I couldn’t be part of it, even though it seemed to be a very big place, it didn’t have a little space for me. Maybe this sounds familiar. This environment, ideas can even look like something very sophisticated and sometimes I thought that there was only this universe and that I needed to fit in some way, because it was the only one I could see.
Unfortunately environments, like churches, companies and even the family can compose an environment that is not good for us and then we need to find ours, because trying to fit in can hurt us and collaborate so that we become someone else or the worst, let to be who we are. And if there is no such place, we may need to create one. I will not lie, it is not easy. But we can find people and many other resources to help us. I found many things, I will tell you.
So in college, as you might imagine, it was a long way, from learning, acquiring repertoires about various ways of existing and living. I developed the ability to listen and observe and so many others that promote health and well-being. In my profession I learned about welcoming, understanding and caring. I realized that feelings like guilt and all the actions that can increase this feeling lead to psychic discomfort, mental disorders like depression and even suicide. I learned about relationships and so many other contributions that helped me understand social movements and other such interactions. I learned that the human being is powerful and that there is a potential for transformation. I learned concepts like equity, empowerment, autonomy, and that these being present in the logic of social interaction
can bring so much freedom and quality of life to people and result in changing paradigms and transforming worlds. Ah, I learned a lot that made me and still has made me more human, too human.
At the same time that I was learning so many things about what was human and what makes us human, I was looking for God. I searched, searched and searched. I looked in the bible, in the church, in retreats, camps and vigils but I didn’t find Him in any of these places. And then I started to arrive at the following conclusion: that the relationship with the divine is something so personal that it is certainly within us. I started to search within myself for the relationship I was looking for and approached an idea of spiritual independence. Gradually and with a lot of reflection, therapy and self-care I have sought to improve myself as a person and in my relationships and to reformulate my faith.
But it is in fact a conflict. A conflict occurs when two opposing forces point in the same direction, such as: I have a desire for women, being a woman at the same time that I do everything to make sure that doesn’t happen, because I believe I can’t or that it’s wrong. It’s confusing and it hurts a lot, I know. This can be a sexual conflict, and there are still many others. But we can overcome them.
I learned and I am still learning that life is almost never a dichotomy, it is almost never right and wrong, good or bad, black and white, it is diverse, it is colorful and it is infinite. I usually say that since there are more than 7 billion people in the world, there must certainly be more than 7 billion possibilities and ways of being, of existing and of loving. Among so many possibilities, we don’t have to choose between two. I believe that we will not always need to choose one over the other. It is possible to find a middle ground, a balance. I did not leave my faith to live my sexuality nor the other way around, I am working to find a way to live with both of them because these two instances of life, like so many others, make up who I am and made me get here. We don’t need to deny or renounce who we are since this does not hurt us nor does it hurt others. There are several parallel universes, we will all find one. My faith also consists of this, being part of a possible universe for all forms of existence and it also helps me to produce a sense of life and living.
Now start the process of sharing with my friends about who I am and have already found a community here where I am accepted. Gradually and gradually, in my time I have gone less to the church I have been attending for almost 8 years and integrating into another community. I have been practicing spiritual independence. Also therapy, yoga and many hot baths. My wish is that everyone can find in themselves infinite reasons to be proud and sensitive and positive ways of relating in an identical way, so that from then on they can start transforming the place they live in into a proper environment for our identity and as these relationships and interactions.
My best hug!
My story starts very similar to Dominique’s. I know now that I always knew I was into girls as well as boys, but it took me 26 years and falling head over heals in love to accept that. Growing up I didn’t have anyone in my life that identified as anything other than straight and my passion for escaping life through tv, movies, and books, there was never any other representation other than straight. As I grew into my womanhood, I have fond memories of my mom and sister asking me if I was gay and telling me that it didn’t matter, they just want me to be happy. I was lucky in that aspect, but I couldn’t accept that it was okay and continuously fought them on this claiming I liked BOYS. I was scared. One day my mom and I were watching our favorite day-time soap show All My Children and a beloved character on the show came out as a Lesbian, my mom hoped that this was inspire me to come out as well, but all I remember is how terrified the character was and how people started to treat her differently. Added to that, gay people weren’t treated nicely where I lived. In high school I can vividly remember the girls who came out and how horrible they were treated by fellow classmates. In college, I lost my dad to cancer and dived head first into being a role model on campus and making a positive change, but the one organization that worried me was the LGBTQ+ because by this time I was so worried that they would be able to see a part of me that I had buried deep inside of me. I liked guys and that was that (even though I had yet to have an actual relationship with one).
As life went on there was always a nagging voice in my head asking what if, but by this time it surely must be too late to come out and now that I worked with students full time, what would that mean for my career? Would I stop getting jobs because I may like girls? Nope, gotta be straight, there will be a guy one day that I will fall in love with.
Then it happened… that moment that I was scared would one day come. I met her. I had just started a new job where I would be living onsite with 14 other educators teaching outdoor education and on the first day of moving into my new house, a group of girls walked into my room and asked if I wanted to go grocery shopping with them. I remember the first time I looked at her and felt the butterflies.
She was going with them and I was going to get to know her. She would become my best friend, I would make sure of that. As our friendship grew (it felt like finding my other half) we both quickly became to realize that there was more to what was between us than just friendship. I started fighting that, it wasn’t right, I am straight. For 4 months I fought my feelings for her until 1 night I couldn’t fight it any longer and we shared our first kiss. It was like FIREWORKS going off. Honestly the most passionate kiss of my life.
We navigated life for the next 6 months as life threw everything against us. For starters, my new partner wasn’t keen on being out of the closet (understandably so), my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and just a mere 8 months into our relationship, my girlfriend (which omg how exciting to say that!) had to return back to the UK due to her visa. Needless to say we didn’t last as a couple, though our love for one another has never died and we continue to be very close friends. My life also sent me from the USA to Australia unexpectedly and with a breaking heart, I left my mom with promise to return, but she had other plans and passed the day after I arrived in Australia. She accepted me for everything I am and told me to go be free for once. If only for that, I could never thank her enough, but she was also just an incredibly, loving and amazing woman for whom I was blessed to be raised by.
In Australia I knew no one my age, and lived in an area of Sydney predominately non English speaking, so I looked online for a way to meet people and I discovered The Sydney Gay Girls on meetup.com. What would it feel like to just be gay??? To meet people who automatically saw me as a lesbian and didn’t care?? For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel judged. I went to my first meetup with 6 other girls and felt like I was finally living as my true self. I quickly started hosting meetups with a friend and now 8 years after coming out (spending the first 2 years still in the closet), I am getting ready to marry the most amazing, beautiful woman and continuing to spend the rest of my life living true to myself.
I share my story because I was afraid when growing up what society might think of me. I only had Xena as a model and as amazing as she was, even her show was afraid to fulfil that last confirmation. Today there are more and more representation of the LGTBQ+ in culture (thank you Dom for being a HUGE part of that), and I hope that the more stories there are and more acceptance, that one day people wont even question who you love and how you identify, it’ll just be normal being you.
The world is a beautiful place filled with beautiful people.
Sometimes we just need a little storm to let the rainbows shine brightest.
Come out and shine with me <3
#OutIsTheNewIn
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF ABUSE, SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR, AND SUICIDE.
Hello, my name is Paula from Brazil and my coming out history is a little confusing, so I’m gonna try to resume it as possible as I can.
Why is it complicated? Because a huge part of my childhood was erased from my mind, or at least for a long period I had these huge blanks in my brain, consequences of child abuse suffered from my 8 until my 12 years old. So when my teens came up I was struggling with a lot of stuff, so my orientation and sexual identity was on the surface of all my internal problems. Such as depression, substance abuse, ODs, attempts of suicide, and hospitalizations.
But at the same time, I was quite different and I was pretty conscious that I had attractions with girls but also with boys. Although with boys I was feeling guilty as well. Because I was constantly feeling all this overwhelming hate. Hate of the world, hate of myself, and hate of all men… almost rage if I’m being really honest. Probably, that’s why I was constantly close to dying because I wasn’t giving a fuck about anything.
My brother and best friend (RIP) was the first person I’d come out. I was 14 years old. But is funny though, because was him that asked me with I was gay. And was ok with all my family, as a matter of fact, everybody embraced. Honestly, I didn’t have a problem with the girl’s attraction part, I’d always felt comfortable and safe with them. My struggle was accepting that it was okay having attractions for boys as well. That only took 10 years of my life, even though I was able to have sex experiences with men I’m still having trust issues, emotionally speaking.
Only four years ago I could see other questions tagged in my mind. Questions about my identity, am I trans or not? Because I never felt comfortable with my body, but is it possible that is my child abuse tricking me? Or maybe I just don’t like labels and have a different idea about what women and men are. Or maybe I just don’t feel like either one of them. This is still a work in progress and sometimes I don’t think if I still have the energy. Or maybe is just fear because I live in a country where LGBTQ people have no voice or even proper rights. Especially trans people. Every day a trans life is taken from just for being trans in Brazil.
Music, art, vegan diet, animal care, and LGBTQ activism. Those are all the stuff that literally saved my life. Because I feel like we are here to constantly changing and to always transcend to a better version of ourselves, and maybe or probably, I’m gonna need another life to discover it. So kills me how the world can be so ugly sometimes.
And that’s why I really don’t know how I’m alive. I’m 30 years now and I look all this stuff I had to survive and deal with. But surprises me every day how hopefully I still am, and surprises me how I can be so fucking positive that annoys myself.
I know that I need to deal with a lot of stuff yet.
But I’m proud to already be so much more.
And especially I’m proud to look backward and access all that pain and suffering but with all the fucking strength of the world.
I’m proud to just be alive, honestly.
When I was in 8th grade I went to a Catholic school. Dating period wasn’t something that was talked about and was just kinda wrong. After a sleep over with some good friends I was cuddled by a best friend. Something in that moment made me feel something that no guy had ever made me feel. In the following weeks I noticed little things about this girl that sat next to me. It exploded from there. 2 months after this someone outed me. No one talked to me I became a social out cast in an extremely small school.
My dad loved me from the start. He’s supported me so much he’s taken me to pride events and I love him for it. He isn’t exactly okay with the idea of non binary people. He just says they want attention but I don’t feel okay telling him that I identify as that. He loves me but it’s part of my life that I have to hide from him. But despite what he thinks I know how I am.
I am a strong human being who loves art and baking and I couldn’t be more greatful for a place to share my story.
To be honest the whole idea of “coming out” is both sad that it is a thing, and also frightening because it puts a type of spotlight onto you and makes you feel singled out. I am just turning 20, and really discovering who I am and who I want to be. I do consider myself religious and because of that I am afraid to say let alone write that there is a part of me that would not be considered “normal”. Through the few years I have been on this earth, I have found that I am attracted to both genders and because of preconceived ideas and norms I never really realized it. For years I had been drawn to shows with families that had two moms and I thought I just liked it because it was different. But from watching Wynonna Earp, and especially the cons on YouTube I realized it might be more than that. I have heard from several people that after you come out you will feel free in the end and those that don’t love you after never really loved you. But as someone who depends on my family and close friends that is extremely hard. I hope that I might one day have the courage to speak my truth.
Accepting me was a very tough process. Living in a closed-minded country, with homophobic parents and in a school that I knew did not support the community made me question myself many times, it made me live in an environment where I believed that my feelings were not valid. It was thanks to the performances on tv shows and being part of the lgbtq + community on twitter that made me realize that my feelings are valid and normal. I have not yet had the courage to come out with my family because I know it will be difficult, I have tried to see their reactions but we have always ended in discussions and at this moment I depend economically on them for my studies so I have not been able to do it. I met amazing people on twitter who are from my country (Peru) and who have helped and inspired me a lot in my journey and I hope that later I can come out into the world to say how proud I am to be who I am.
I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.
However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.
I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.
If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.
I first figured out I was different at 17, or thereabouts. Growing up, I was very into church and religion, and I was determined to never disappoint my Grandma. I should point out that I was extremely close to my Grandma, and I wanted to remain one of her favourites.
So I was determined to hide any idea of it.
Anywho, when my Grandma passed towards the end of 2016, I was struggling with a lot (depression and anxiety can be a witch) and I shoved the “I’m attracted to girls, I’m gay” so far down it wasn’t gonna see the light of day for ages.
That kinda didn’t work… (Surprise, surprise)
Following intense medication and therapy, I plucked up the courage to tell my counsellor, while panicking that something was wrong with me (internalised religious homophobia dies that)
My counsellor was great, and helped me to see it was my new normal. So I decided to write a letter to my oldest brother, coming out to him and my sister-in-law. I have never been particularly close to him (there’s 10 years difference) but his acceptance made me cry.
After a while, I plucked up the courage to tell my best friend. Admittedly she already knew. Apparently I didn’t hide it very well.
Thankfully she knew I was would be nervous about telling my parents, more so my mother. We spent weeks dissecting everything, and she gave me the confidence to tell my parents.
Dad already knew (I did a bad job hiding, evidently) and Mum was shocked. It hasn’t been easy, Mum has had to revise everything she thought she knew about me.
Now though, I’m comfortable enough to say, I’m gay.
