The darkness and pain never ends
Am a bisexual who haven’t come out to my family, but told my close friends
I know my family will never approve and I don’t want to lose them. They the only thing I’ve got.
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Am a bisexual who haven’t come out to my family, but told my close friends
I know my family will never approve and I don’t want to lose them. They the only thing I’ve got.
I grew up in a very conservative environment, where women are taught to aspire to have good grades and a good job just to impress people and lure the right man in to have a big jolly family… And that’s alright and fair… If it is what you really want, which is never true for most. These sort of expectations have one BIG thing missing… Where is the part about knowing thyself? Well that was basically me for the first half of my life.
All I knew was that I should be on the look out for this boy who would sweep me off my feet, lift me up from the ground and took me on his horse to a shinny happy ever after. And for that to happen I needed to be pretty, and girly, and not play ball with the other boys or act silly after a certain age, or speak out when I saw or heard something that I disagreed with… Basically be a slave to stereotypical standards… And I was great at it! Straight A student, shy and proper, church on Sundays’ great! (with the exception of Barbies… I still have no idea what’s the point of them)
Since I didn’t know anything else, I was OK with this reality. It was not until my bubble got burst, that I realized I was missing out.
In my early 20’s I had the chance to travel, and soon enough that shy, insecure girl started blooming. I was fortunate that life aligned the right people on my path, understanding, brave and genuine, that helped me grasp that all that I had conceived as “wrong” it wasn’t… It was just unknown.
It was incredible how fear was replaced with curiosity once those walls started to come down… I make it sound quite romantic but really my process was: go party, get drunk, have existential and trivial conversations at stupid hours of the night… But the important bit… It was all with the right people, with people different from me. That’s when I understood that everyone has a different path, essence and meaning, for themselves and for you.
One of these people was a girl… Chan Chan Chaaaaan.
At this point I had have relationships with boys, serious and… Not so serious (let’s leave it like that haha), but I was always looking for reasons not to stay with them, even if they were amazing; but with this girl I was instantly hooked, and it was not because of what she could give me (marriage, kids, economical solvence… whatever that means) it was because of her beautiful smile, stupid but histerical humour, her support, I even found adorable when she was being a brat… Yep… I was done…and somehow… she felt something for me too… And the rest is history…
Not the right kind of history because we didn’t end up together haha Buuuut that was when I realized that I didn’t care what the wrapping was, I loved the content, I love discovering what is inside of people, what drives them and motivates them and more importantly, finding that satisfaction for discovery in myself, the more I learn from people, the more I know myself and the more is to learn. We are in constant change, evolution and flow.
Today, I am not in a good spot, I have fallen again into trivialities and vanities that don’t make me happy. But writing about this, makes me smile, and I am motivated to continue this journey that brightened my soul.
I am a Queer woman. I fall for passionate and calm, for intriguing and simple, for silly and mature, for anything that knows how to love.
A part of me always knew, since I was a child I had a class of attention for women, I always liked to be helpful with them, to take care of them, to be for them.
But I had never seen this kind of relationship until I was 13 – 14 years old, that’s when I realized that this society and my family would not receive me with open arms. And I struggled for years to stop being myself, it was a very difficult time, where I hated myself. I told myself that this was going to happen and that I wasn’t really a lesbian.
It was that time with that girl, that only by the touch of her hand with my hand I knew that this was not a stage that was totally wrong.
Then I met someone like me who lived her life freely, we became friends. I filled her with questions because I wanted to know why this had happened to me, was it normal? Why couldn’t I get the woman I liked out of my mind? Should I tell my parents?
I am grateful that she helped me to find myself and not wish for death, I know she went through her hell too.
And I also discovered that it was not just her and me but that a very large community was supporting and encouraging us to go and get these colors out.
Now I am proud of who I am, I have no doubt. I know it’s still hard for me, I have no support in my family. But that doesn’t stop me, if I have to walk alone, I will do it.
Thank you for this space, Dom, you also had a hand in finding out where I belong.
I had never been much interested in boys, while my group friends talked about the boys they liked I never really cared for it or wanted to comment on it. After a few years I drifted apart from that group of friends. One day at school
when I was either 14 or 15 one of the girls from that group approached me and asked if I’m a lesbian. I was shocked and didn’t know how to respond immediately, I had answered with a no and asked where that question came from. She had explained that I had never shown any interest nor talked about boys while I was still friends with them and that I was always very tomboyish. So I thought about it and I said maybe. She left and I quickly followed her to ask not to tell anyone. We got into a lively conversation and her other friends approached to ask what was going on and she flat out told them that I’m a lesbian. I was furious, more people came along and they told them as well.
Soon so many people knew of something I wasn’t even sure of and it was embarrassing. I changed schools after the year ended and I started to question my sexuality a whole lot. I was afraid to call myself a lesbian so I went with every other thing, asexual, aromatic, bisexual, pansexual, lesbian, back to pansexual. A rollercoaster for many years. But recently, I discovered myself completely at the ripe age of 20, that I’m a lesbian. I came out to my close friends very quickly and I was showered with love and acceptance. I couldn’t have been happier really. I love being a lesbian and I love my community. Much love to everyone
Hello,
Sorry for my bad english, I’m french.
I always felt different.
On many aspects, same for love and even more in my sexuality.
I started to have my first confused feelings for a woman when I was in middle school.
I was only 12 and it was a period that represent for me so much pain.
During a certain time, I was sexually abused from a male of my family, I was even more disoriented and lost.
I talked about it to my family many years later and about the fact that I was attracted by women.
There was a teacher I was intrigued about. She had something that made me feel like a moth in love with light and who can’t help but be around her.
I even remember going to a refresher course (well I needed it haha) in volunteer because she was teaching.
It’s fun to remember the path I have taken with acceptance.
Simply, I was a young teenager unaware and hurted. I didn’t realised the impact that it would represent in my life.
Deciding that I had already enough to manage (hiding that I have been raped to my family to protect them from suffer, my studies, all the hazards we find when we enter teenage years) I decided to put aside my attraction.
What a mistake because I soon realised that a part of me was missing. And while I was struggling to face my destroyed feelings with a big decline of self-esteem, I met this girl.
I met her in a video game, I arrived at a stage where my reality was hurting so much that the virtual was becoming my everyday.
When I could finally met her for the first time, I felt a big waves of emotions and a voice inside me was telling me that she was going to change my life.
And it was true. I loved her deeply, in secret, I was 16 nearly 17.
We were not ready to have a relationship, both of us because of our past… So it was a disaster.
However, she helped me to open myself up.
I was so happy that I started to talk about it to my friends, 2 or 3 members of my family…. They quickly accepted it.
When we broke up, I was so devastated that my mom found out that something was wrong so I told her everything.
I was so stressed because my family is religious and I will always remember my mom’s words : ” Every act done out of love is loving is the eyes of God”.
Now that I’m 22, I’m thankful. Because she (the girl I loved) broke me when she left but she helped me to accept myself.
In this grief we are forced to face the reality.
By destroying me on a short term she gave me the opportunity to rebuild myself, I searched for all the strengh I had left for it.
When we start to open up, it’s a path to acceptance. Now I’m considering myself as being Me.
I’m not in a box, a label, I don’t share this point of view to absolutely want to be dertimined.
For me, even in our similarities, we are no less different.
I will be in love of who my heart will choose, no matter the gender.
I’m into love.
I love being different.
I love my inner self and the one I aspire to become.
It took a really long time for me to accept that I was a part of this community. Straight out of high school I met an amazing person and very quickly we became inseparable. We were the very best of friends and would often talk about growing up and having families and children that would also be best friends (childhood dreams right?!). After around 18 months we realised we had stronger feelings but assured one another it was just a “temporary thing” until the “right” people came along. After some time we had to admit there was no one else we wanted to be with. We wanted to spend every minute with each other. Despite feeling this way we couldn’t bare to come out to the wider world. Shortly after this self revelation, as fate would have it we ended up at universities 5 hours apart. We spent the next four years making the five hour drive every weekend to see each other. After graduating and moving in with one another we still couldn’t bring ourselves to have “the talk” with our families. A year later we were pregnant with our first child and had to bite the bullet. This exciting news was met with tears (not the happy kind) from some family and shock and plenty of behind the scenes chatter from others. I think one person congratulations us. We had never hid our relationship specifically and there was a million obvious signs however everyone criticised us for not officially “coming out” sooner. That we never said the words “gay” or “lesbian” and made a clear declaration. The problem was that those words were synonymous with “less” and “a disappointment”. Someone who was different and it was acceptable to mock within our families. This is not how we saw ourselves and not how we wanted our families to see us. After having our daughter we got lots of practice “outing ourselves” to every random person who inquired about of beautiful little girl! We connected with local “rainbow family” groups and really began to feel we belonged to this community. 18 years on from meeting one another, we now have three gorgeous children and are grateful everyday for finding each other and never steering away from what always felt so right. The shame and “difference” associated with being a “rainbow family” has unfortunately still impacted us and our children as times but we continue to step forward and stand proud for we are a family filled with love.
I have just discovered Wynonna Earp this year (2021) and through watching that came across Dom’s post, and I have never in my life been so inspired and scared at the same time. I related to her words so much and felt so thankful for this person that I have never even met.
I’m 29 years old and I have been annoyed at myself for not truly knowing myself at this stage in my life, but maybe this is just how my journey is meant to be. I am not out. I have a boyfriend of nearly 6 years, who I love, but I don’t think we’re in love anymore. I have always felt I could fall in love with a man or woman. I have suppressed my feelings in the past, and constantly doubted what I was feeling – I thought because I was abused as a child that that was the reason that I didn’t always fancy boys. Plus, I already had (have) that secret, surely I can’t deal with another one…please.
I guess there’s always been that part of me that was hiding, I was always looking to please other people and I never once gave in to what I thought could make me happy. When my Twin sister came out as gay, I assumed well that’s it, I can’t be gay or bisexual because she is, that must mean I do like boys, so I’ll just carry on with my life. Yet, every now and again, there’d be something in me that just wasn’t sure.. I guess I came up with every excuse in my head…I still am in a way to be honest, but maybe that’s why I’m writing this – to prove to myself that I can finally learn to be my true self.
All I have ever wanted from life is to be happy, and I don’t know that I ever have been, but I’m trying to change that, and I am hoping that one day soon I will be able to confidently express who I really am and be welcomed in to a community that I am yearning to join, but feel so damn scared to. I just want to be me…whoever that may be.
This story starts from the very beginning, so prepare yourself for a roller coaster.
Growing Up
Growing up as an only child, I was pretty dependent on my friends to get me through the day. If there was ever a rift in my group, it left me with a horrible feeling inside, as if I could show up the next day and be shunned from our usual bench at lunch. (My fear of abandonment is still real today, but in grade school, you were a loser if you didn’t bring the type of Lunchables that people wanted to trade you for or share with you. Social suicide at such a tender age. Kids are cruel.) So to keep my “social status”, I practically begged my parents to get me the lunches that the cool 10-year-olds ate, with fruit-by-the-foot and Mondo. After surviving the playground, my afternoons consisted of playing sports. Once I could start trying out for the teams in 5th grade, that’s all I wanted to do. I’d save the candies from my Lunchables and bring them to practice to share…with the popular (attractive – because society shamefully says that attractive=popular) girls. I’d pay attention whether they took the chocolate or the candy, which flavor Warhead was their favorite, etc. all in an attempt to talk to them as much as I could. Back then, I saw this as me just wanting them to like me because they were popular and everyone wanted to hang out with them. I knew nothing at this point other than I got severely jealous of their close friends, boyfriends, etc. Again, an awful feeling. It wasn’t until I got to high school that I started to put the pieces together.
High School
In high school, I continued to devote most of my time to schoolwork and basketball, and my teammates were again my best friends – one of them becoming my first girlfriend my sophomore year. Trust me, the irony is not beyond me. This relationship was my first real relationship, so many “firsts” came along with it: first physical/emotional/sexual experiences with a girl, first love, first breakup-and-makeup, first long-term relationship. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years, on and off, and it was such a whirlwind of a relationship. I was 15 years old, completely immersed, everything heightened and everything intense. The feelings, the arguments, the learning, the growing. It truly was a relationship fueled by the unknown mixed with teenage angst, which needless to say caused tension between me and my family because we were both “in the closet” at the time and I couldn’t tell them all the things I was going through. We went through several breaks and rekindlings, that when we approached the end of the relationship within the first maybe 1 ½ years of college, it grew to be unhealthy for the both of us. This is not to say that the good times we had weren’t really good, because they were, but all-in-all, I had outgrown it and was turning into someone I wasn’t quite fond of.
College
I met my second girlfriend in my second year of college, during my “divorce” period with my first girlfriend. I call this a “divorce” because I feel like it took a few months to “finalize” the breakup and detach myself completely. This proved more difficult than I anticipated because potential-Girlfriend-#2 was a roommate of one of Girlfriend #1’s friends, so we were still running in the same circles. Once I was officially out of relationship #1 and in relationship #2, we moved in together and this took my experiences to a whole new level – cohabitation can either make you or break you and it definitely made us. We didn’t have too many hiccups, until I hit a huge speedbump: my dad confronted me about my sexuality. I was 19 years old. Again, we were both still “in the closet” and it was terrifying.
Coming Out – Part 1
My dad asked me to go to the grocery store with him one Saturday afternoon. This would have been a normal occurrence IF 1) he didn’t tell me to get in the car the moment my mom started running her shower, AND 2) if he didn’t take the absolute longest, roundabout way to get to the grocery store. Once he parked the car, he jumped right into it. He asked who insert screenname here was (he already knew), how long we’ve been together, and if my mom knew. His spitfire questions got my spitfire answers: “Girlfriend #2”, 1 ½ years at this point, no she doesn’t know.” My face never seemed to get the memo from my brain to remain calm, so my panic shined right through. My dad’s response: he immediately put his hand on my knee, told me to look at him, and said “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to panic. I just suggest you don’t tell your mom yet because we both know that she won’t be as cool about this as I am. Now let’s get some shopping done.”
With my hands still shaking, we went into the store and went on business as usual. My dad, being the extremely blunt unfiltered person he is, proceeded to randomly ask me inappropriate questions about my relationship, drill in the point of me needing to delete my profile from the home computer so all evidence was gone, and said that if I didn’t do it the moment we got home, he would ask me more inappropriate questions and force me to answer them. “Blackmailed” by my own father.
I didn’t think it would ever go this way. I didn’t have a plan, I hadn’t thought about coming out yet, I was just being the kid-away-at-college and figuring things out as they came along. I mean, to me, this relationship with Girlfriend #2 was kind of still “new” compared to my first relationship. I have to admit though, even without having a formal sit-down with him, a coming out announcement, or anything out of my own choice really, the weight that lifted off my chest was so much greater than I anticipated it to ever be. I finally had a parent I didn’t feel I had to hide all my gritty life details from.
“Adulthood”
Girlfriend #2 and I moved back to our respective homes after being away at college, and things started going awry less than a year later. No longer being able to rely on “cohabitation making us”, we started growing apart. The want to visit each other, Skype, and even text throughout the day like we used to dwindled. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years (similar to my first relationship), but the relationship was becoming one-sided and it wasn’t fair anymore. I hate to say that fighting for it wasn’t worth it anymore, but it’s the truth. We were at different points in our lives, wanting different things for our future, but although I won’t go into the details (because that’s not the point here), all-in-all, it ended amicably.
I took a break from all the seriousness for a few months, focused on my hometown friendships, went on a few (failed) dates, but really just honed in on regaining my individuality. I was 24 years old, juggling my first job as an undergraduate and being a new furmom. Things were really coming back together, in their devil-may-care fashion, and I managed.
And then there was Shedonism – Las Vegas Pride, where I first met Girlfriend #3, my current and god willing my last. Long story kind-of-short, we met through mutual friends from LA and Sacramento, we said maybe a handful of words to each other in Vegas, went home after the event, I texted her 2 weeks later on her birthday, and it was all downhill from there. We talked daily at all hours, officially got together 6 months later, and have been together ever since. We did the long-distance thing for about 1 ½ years and here we are now, living together in LA with 2 dogs, just 4 months shy of our 5 year anniversary celebration, and I’ve never been happier. I could gush about this girl, but I’ll save you guys from that, but I just want to say that it works. It all just works. The present, the future, everything. But no matter how great and grown and comfortable I’ve been in the relationship, I still had a huge chip on my shoulder: I still had to come out to my mom. I am 29 years old, and disappointing my parents is still (and will always be) such a huge deal. But I did it, and I wasn’t alone, and it changed my life.
Coming Out – Part 2
Friday, October 28, 2016 – The day I took the most nerve-wracking risk of my life (and the longest and most crucial).
So this plan had been brewing for almost a year. I originally wanted to come out to my mom around last New Year’s, but it just wasn’t the right time. I thought so long and hard about the various ways to do it because this was probably the most important thing I was ever going to do. I was finally going to be able to plan for this and do this after so many years. I could tell her in one of our daily phone calls or texts, pony up and tell her in person in a very public place to avoid the meltdown, have my dad tell her since he’s known for 9 years, or write her a letter. I opted for the letter. I felt that if I wrote it all down in a letter, no matter how long it was, it would result in some of the weight lifting off of me AND allow me to lay absolutely everything on the table for my mom to absorb. My dad, naturally, wasn’t a fan of the idea, saying “that’s like breaking up with someone via text. I think you should do it in person,” even though I explained to him that I really didn’t think I had it in me to have an impromptu sit-down. I wrote the letter anyway and left it for her to see the next morning at my grandma’s gravesite (for other personal reasons).
Anyway, I was due to visit my parents, and since they get home around the same time, you can imagine how my plan quickly devolved into not my plan at all.
My mom and I moved about the house, my dad comes in, and says “Mom, sit down, your daughter wants to talk to you.” Cue heart attack. I’ve never glared so hard at someone EVER while I said “No dad, I don’t. I REALLY don’t.” At this point, my mom is now starting to panic. My dad then looks at me, says “You’re going to hate me for this, but…”, turns to my mom and says “Your daughter’s ‘roommate’ dates women, and so does she.” Cue heart attack #2 and blackout. What’s a girl to do now that her plan had been hijacked a day earlier than expected? I held onto my consciousness as best as I could and went to sit opposite my mother. Yikes.
The first words out of her mouth were the most heart-wrenching. A phrase a child never wants to hear out of a parent’s mouth:
“I’m disappointed in you.”
I nodded my head and gave her the floor. The next phrases played like a broken record before I’d even said a word.
“Never in a million years did I think my own daughter was going to tell me this.”
And then the parental denial:
“I prayed every night that this day would never come.”
(I complimented her motherly instinct in the letter – I knew she had it in her.)
By this time, my dad is unexpectedly sitting next to me, and as much as I hated him for blowing up my plan, I am so grateful for him right now. I began by telling my mom “I’d been in 3 long-term relationships in the last 14 years, my current relationship consisting of the last 4 ½ years (funny how this number keeps coming up). I’m so tired of hiding myself and my relationships from you and this family. I’m exhausted. My dreams for my future haven’t changed: I still want that house with a white picket fence, be pregnant, have kids, and get married, which now I can, it just won’t be to a man. I’m so happy with how my life turned out, and I’m so lucky because I’ve never been bullied or put down and my friendships are so much stronger now. I’m one of the lucky ones! But it sucked having to go through every relationship and breakup I’ve had and been too scared to tell my own mother about them so that she could help me through everything.”
“The future I wanted for you was for you to find a man who would treat you as the great girl you are, get married, and have a family together. That’s what a family is.”
My dad chimes in immediately, saying “She has found someone who treats her well and makes her happy. I’ve known for several years now, and in the grand scheme of things, this is no big deal. She’s still going to get married and have kids. Your job now as her mother is to love her, not judge her, accept it and move on. She is the same loving daughter you’ve always had. Nothing has changed that.”
Now I’m crying, and I’m not sure if it’s from my mom’s comments or from the shock of witnessing for the first time my dad’s verbal unwavering support. Fast-forward through the next 20 minutes of repeated comments, my mom then has to leave to pick up a family member from work. I turned to my dad after she’s left, and said “Well, I suppose that went as expected…when I get married some time down the road, I’d appreciate it if both of you would walk me down the aisle. I’ll take one, but both would be preferable.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye, “Look, I’d prefer you to date men, but I know that’s not going to happen. You are the way you are, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy. That’s all there is to it. If your mom is going to be upset at you or your girlfriend or anyone for that matter, that’s her problem. I don’t give a shit about anything else. We’re all just people.”
My hero.
Coming to the end of this story now, my mom and I went through 4 days of radio silence, which equaled an eternity since she has text me or called me several times a day since I went away to college. Per my request, she did still read the letter I wrote for her, and we spoke about it while my dad was out of town. I took this chance to stand my ground more firmly, profess that I’m no longer a child, this is not a phase, and this is truly and fully who I am. It has been 3 weeks since “D-Day” and life is…well life I suppose. I’m still a little freaked out that we might just be on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I will take what I can get, and my mom still loves me and hugs me hello and goodbye whenever I see her.
The relief alone feels like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It could have gone a lot worse, and I’m slightly shocked that I am one of the lucky ones. It breaks my heart that so many people out there will not have their story play out as successfully as I did. No matter how old you are, no matter what path of life you are on, the most important things I can say to you are: Trust those close to your heart and embrace them and thank them always for being there for you. Trust yourself especially, because that is who you will always have. Be so unapologetically yourself, and demand respect in the purest way you know how. Please please please stay safe, stay mindful, and only do things you are comfortable doing. You know YOU best, so you’ll know when the time is right.
This is my story, and now I can honestly say it gets better.
Fast-forward 4 years: I am 33 years old, living in Sacramento with 2 furkids, and Girlfriend #3 became my fiancé! Even though we are in the middle of a godforsaken pandemic, I have to say my home life is pretty great and it still gets better and better.
When I was 5 yrs old I had a huge crush on my female teacher. I knew it was different because I felt butterflies in my stomach. It was way different from my admiration to boys. After that I had another crush on a 6th grader when I was in my 3rd grade. She didn’t like the attention and the fact that I had a deep admiration to her so she ended our friendship. I was so heartbroken and confused. What did I do wrong? Why can’t I just like her? Then on my 5th grade I had a 6th grader gf whom I invited to go to my house. My mom was open about it and made a joke of how weird and abnormal I am. I think my family knew I am into girls since I am more boyish than girlish. I love playing ball games, wearing shorts and big shirts. They even call me “Cathy Boy” for standing up to boys (who bullied me and some girls) and for just being me. I haven’t had any struggle coming out with my family probably because I have a colorful family (gay aunt, sister, and cousins).
Though I am fortunate of having a family like them, I had difficulty coming out to the entire world. Coming from a Catholic and patriarcal country like the Philippines, it is still a big deal if you’re part of LGBTQIA++ community. I could remember back in my college days that some of my friends lectured me from acting on being gay. They told me that it is a sin to engage into sexual lesbian acts but being one is not. Some told me it is just a phase in my life. So back then I had few experiments. I tried dating and kissing men for a week or two but it didn’t work out. I knew there was something wrong. Something lacking. SPARK! It is different when I kiss a woman. There is magic. There are butterflies in my stomach. There is fire. There is passion. There is care. There is love. There is happiness.
It’s been more than a decade since I decided to just be me regardless of what people say. All I know now is that I am proud of being me and for being in the LGBTQIA++ COMMUNITY.
I first came out fifteen years ago, when I told my best friend about a crush that was stirring up an epic inner turmoil in the way that only teenage drama can.
A year later, I told my parents that I liked girls, staring fixedly at my shoes and wishing I could disappear. Both of those memories are still so vivid, because although I received compassion and understanding in response, I felt like my whole world was turning upside down. I thought I’d changed my life forever in a single moment. I also thought that was the end of it- I was out. Spoiler alert: that wasn’t the end of it.
I have been coming out for more than half my life now. I start a new job and give my partner’s name as my emergency contact, and I come out. A new friend asks what kind of guys I like and I respond with full honesty, and I come out. Someone spots my engagement ring, we talk about wedding plans, and I come out.
I have experienced every kind of response- confusion, awkwardness, curiosity, anger, delight. It never stops, but it gets easier every time because I know I have community and I know that there is nothing wrong with me. I am proud of who I am and even prouder to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ family. My fellow queers have taught me so much about love, identity, selflessness and courage, and every time I come out I remember that, and I count myself lucky.