Ashanti
I haven’t come out to anyone yet. It’s a bit scary due to growing up in a very strict Christian household. But I’m hoping when I do come out, I’ll still be loved.
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I haven’t come out to anyone yet. It’s a bit scary due to growing up in a very strict Christian household. But I’m hoping when I do come out, I’ll still be loved.
I knew I was unique at the age of about 12, I had talked to my parents who had told.me if I was ever “gay” they would kick me out and a year later I ce out at lesbian. I then was like that for about a year and throughout that I was bullied and told I should commit scuicide bc I was a sin in the eyes of God of some shit but I then after several mental healthe issues I finally came out as transgender ftm and im now 19 and I’m the happiest man to ever walk the earth. Thankyou Dom for comming out your role as Waverly really helped me come out to my family and friends. Love.you girly
I realized I wasn’t straight in the 8th grade. It was Saturday and I had just woken up. I had seen a dream that I was dating one of my friends who also was a girl. It had been a really nice dream. In it we had done some things like straight couples in my school, e.x kissing in the stairs and walking hand in hand.
Then when I was playing there on my bed it dawned on me, I wasn’t straight. I panicked a little because I didn’t want to be gay or anything else. My parents were(and still are) homophobic, but in few weeks I was completely fine with my sexuality ( even tho I still am questioning if I’m actually just gay and not bisexual).
I “came out” kinda differently then my other friends. When I went to high school I just openly said what I was and stopped hiding it.
It is only when I look back that things really become clear. For example, it is obvious now why I had a crush on my P.E teacher (but then who didn’t!). But at the time I was just a confused teenager trying to make sense of all that I was feeling. I guess that is the same for everybody when they first become aware of themselves as sexual beings, regardless of their sexuality. I don’t know how old I was, I’m guessing around 15? There was a Lesbian couple living opposite my family home, and I remember asking myself if I was like them, but then thinking that even if I was, I wouldn’t know what to do about it. This was the early 1980s, and things were not socially like they are now.
I left school in 1984 at the age of 17, got a job, and was happy just being me. I had no desire to meet anybody but I was aware that getting a boyfriend was the next thing on the list of things that were expected of me by society. I must add here that no pressure came from my family. So I conformed, and had a couple of boyfriends over the next couple of years. Looking back I actually feel sorry for them, they clearly wanted more than I was willing to give. Subconsciously I would never put myself in a position with them where things could progress physically. To me, they were friends who just happen to be male – simple. That’s why they never stuck around long I’m guessing.
Then in 1987 I started my Nurse training in the NHS. Six months into my course and my path crossed with another student who was to become my first girlfriend. We started out as friends. I knew she was gay, she never hid it. But I still wasn’t out, even to myself. Over time though the penny finally dropped and we got closer and closer. She would go on to say that she was just waiting for me to realise for myself, she apparently knew already.
That was when I started living the double life that will be familiar to a lot of people reading this. Luckily I was living at the hospital in nurses accommodation. It certainly made it easier, but hiding this part of me from my family didn’t feel right. My girlfriend, even though 7 years older than me, was also not out to her parents, which in a way made it easier for me to take the easy way out and keep my sexuality hidden from everyone but her.
Around the same time, when my world was rapidly changing around me, my sister passed way from Leukaemia. She was 36 years old and had only been ill for a few months before she died. My Father had died a couple years before this, and then for my sister to die….. I don’t know how my Mother and family (I am the youngest of 5 children) got through it, but we did. As for me, I didn’t want to add to the mix by coming out, so I stayed very firmly in. I can’t in all honesty say that had my sister not died I would have come out because I don’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for me to take the easy way out.
Life settled down, and I was happy, but still living a double life. I kind of found it exciting in the beginning, but as I got older, it became tiring. My girlfriend was accepted into my family, as I was into hers, but nothing was ever said. The more time that passed the harder it got to think about coming out. As it turns out, our families had guessed anyway and were happy for us. They were just waiting for us to say something. We didn’t know this at the time however.
In 2000 the unimaginable happened. My Mother passed away. And for me, devastated as I was I knew the time had come, there was no more procrastinating , I had to come out to my brothers and sister. I was 33 years old, and my girlfriend and I had been together for years. Even then, the thing that made my mind up once and for all, was that I wanted my girlfriend to travel in the funeral car with the husband and wives of my siblings. I remember the exact moment. The others were downstairs in my mother’s house and my girlfriend and I were upstairs talking. My sister-in-law then came and joined us. We chatted about other things to start, then I simply said that my girlfriend and I were a couple, and that I wanted her to travel in the family car behind my mother’s coffin.
That was it. I was out. The relief was immense, but mixed with nerves and grief for my mother. All my Sister-in-law said was “Well about damn time” and hugged me, before going back downstairs where she was of course going to tell the others.
A short time later my girlfriend and I also went downstairs. All my family were in the garden, and when I stepped out there to join them I was mobbed. I found myself in the middle of a huge group hug filled with love and reassurance. It was such a surreal time, grief for my mother, together with the relief of coming out and being accepted by my family.
There was only one negative. After the funeral, my sister’s husband came up to me. I had only seen him a couple of times since my sister passed away a few years earlier, and he said something along the lines of “There’s my perverted sister-in-law”. I’m not sure if he was serious or if he thought he was being funny, either way it wasn’t the time or the place, and he was dragged away by one of my brothers and told to go home.
And that is my coming out story.
The relationship I was in then came to an end after just over 17 years together. However, I am now married to an amazing woman, my real soulmate, we’ve been together for 11 years. I sometimes think my family like her more than me.
I am now 53 years old and I only have two regrets in life. The first is that I never allowed my dear Mum to know the real me, because I was scared to come out to her, and the second is that my Wife never met her. Or my Sister. Or my Brother who also died from Leukaemia 14 years ago.
Apart from that, life is wonderful.
Little Pat already knew that she liked boys and girls. Surrounded by friends and always dreaming of colorful friendships. But only the boys had the courage. The girls only saw their friend. I kissed many boys, but I knew that one day I would kiss girls.
I let time take care of that part. And when a girl finally wanted to kiss me I just closed my eyes and let it happen. It was wonderful.
The time passed and the falmiliar meetings speculating the life of others about boyfriends, children, marriage … And I let them talk about how many boyfriends I had. I have never spoken openly to the “family” that I am queer (I like different types of people). My 2 sisters, 1 niece and my closest friends know that I am queer because I don’t hide.
But this year I decided to put the rainbow flag in the description on the social networks that I am on. Family members and acquaintances will see what they never really wanted to know.
And Dominique Provost-Chalkley, you are a beautiful person!
I was unable to read your statement and remain silent.
Thanks to your delicacy I wanted to write …
I am OUT. (and also a ACE “demisexual” brazilian person)
#OutIsTheNewIn
I know I was different say special, was when I was 10 yrs old. I was brought up by my parents as Catholic and we usually go to church every Sunday. There was this one nervous moment of my life that I would never forget, where we usually hold hands to whoever is next to us when we sing this song in church and there this one girl who’s next to me. I don’t know how I exactly felt that moment but I was really nervous to hold her hand. My father was telling me to just grabbed her hand but I didn’t until the song was over. He asked me why did I do that and I just smile at him and said I don’t know. What I really felt that moment was this weird feeling. It’s like what I see on TV when the two leading characters feel in love with each other. I know the girl bc i went to the same school with her in elementary. She was few years older than me, I always admire her for her beauty and kindness towards other people at school. I couldn’t ask anyone what this feeling is called, I was to afraid to even asked my parents so I kept it all inside. Growing up I thought I would just forgot all about it. Then I went to highschool where I saw a lot of pretty girls and maybe some cute boys too. It makes me more confused about my sexual identify. Around 2009 when I saw Glee and i really find the show really amusing with all the singing and dancing but also bc the characters of the show where in highschool. I was hooked by Santana’s character and I can really see myself on her. The scene with her Abuela where she came out to her also terrified me. What if my parents don’t accept me too? I also live in a country where there’s a lot of discrimination towards lgbt community. Sad to say at the age of 25 I’m still in fear of showing my true self to my family and to the world, I really doesn’t have the courage to do it. Maybe when I turn 50 or something, maybe when my parents are old and gray they won’t mind. I’m hoping one day I can do it bc actually it’s giving me a lot of anxiety. Right now I’m spending my free time watching shows with queer characters to give me hope that someday I can be those characters too. P.s I watch ur show Wynonna Earp and Waverly is my fave. Not out yet, but will get there hehe. Love to all the queers out there. Xx. -J.A.
I was 12-13 years old
I started to really notice that I was not like my female friends ( talking about boys they liked, how they dressed, how they presented themselves). I always just attributed it to being a “tomboy”. I mean, I didn’t even really know what being a lesbian was at that time. So then their was 13 year old me, finding out that the real reason I would always develop feelings for all my female friends and never feeling that same way towards any of my guy friends was because I was in fact gay.
At the time of that realization, being gay was alway talked about in a negative light; that it was something to be teased and made fun of for. Even my closest friends and family were always making “gay jokes”. Not necessarily at someone else’s expense, but definitely in a way that would scare me more and more into the closet. And to make matters worse, during this time was also when I learned about Mathew Shepard.
I distinctly remember watching an episode of the Ellen degeneres show. On the show that day, she was talking to Mathew’s mother. She talked about her son and the horrible things that were done to him because he was gay. I remember weeping and shaking in fear. Fear that if I ever came out that I might be faced with the same cruelty. So I kept it a secret.
Cue the many years of anxiety and depression.
Being a 13 year old girl was hard enough. So now add in my crippling fear of what might happen if someone found out I was gay. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was actually attracted to men. but it seemed that every time I would tell myself that being with a man wouldn’t be so bad, I would get so sad. Like all the color in the world was obliterated and I was left with this dark, cold world that I felt I didn’t belong too. And unfortunately those dark feelings lead to dark thoughts. I remember always telling myself that I would kill my self before I’d tell anyone. I hated myself for who I was and I hated myself even more for not being able to change who I was.
I couldn’t understand why I felt so scared for so long. Times were changing and I could see all of the progress that was being made at the time. Granted, their was still some work to be done, but progress nonetheless. Looking back on it now, I was actually one of the lucky ones. I had amazing parents. My dad who was ever open minded to all walks of life and a mom who would do anything just to see me happy and safe. Neither one of them would turn their back on me for being gay. Instead, they love me unconditionally. But I still always had that “what if” in the back of my mind. What if I’m wrong about them. What if this is the one thing that breaks the camels back. What if.
These thoughts and feelings went on for years. They got so bad that I began feeling physical pain. I could handle it anymore. So at 15 I attended suicide.
I won’t get to far into the details of it, but afterwards I remember just looking at myself in the mirror. I looked for so long. Looking for the reason I was still here.
It dawned on me that I was still here for my mom and dad. But I was also still here for my little brothers and all the people who truly care about me. I was also here for the chance that maybe one day their will be someone who is in the same place I was and the only thing standing in the way them and the same bad choice I made was proof that light will shine on them through the cracks of the dark room they are in for now. Was I ready to come out yet? No! But I was ready to start loving myself.
It took a lot of work, but eventually I got to a place where I was feeling ready to step out of the closet. I had it all planned out too. I was about to graduate from high school and it was going to be my graduation gift to myself.
However.
Two days before graduation, my mother passed away unexpectedly. I was more lost than I was ever before. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t breathe; even getting out of bed was an impossible task. Revealing my truth way put on the back burner for the time being. But time just went on and on and I still just hadn’t told anyone that I was gay. Not because I was ashamed of it or anything but because I just didn’t see the point in it anymore. I grieved for years, shit I still do. My mom was my hero. Out of every one in the world, I was more excited to share this part of myself with her the most. I missed my chance though and I will regret that for the rest of my life.
Now. The day I finally decided to come out to someone, I had not planned it out at all. The opportunity was there and I just fuck it, nothing could be more painful than what I’ve been going through with the loss of my mom. So essentially I really have nothing to lose.
The first person I told was my best friend. This guy really knows everything about me. He always had his suspicions, but he alway wanted me to feel comfortable enough with myself to say anything. But when I finally did tell him, he almost didn’t believe me. When I finally convinced him he said, ” well shit! What the hell took you so long!” He followed it up by saying ” I’m proud of you and I love you no matter what.”
For the first time since I was 13, I felt like I could really breathe again. That first breath I took after telling him brought me to tears. Not to sound cheesy or anything, but I felt alive! Little by little I started telling more people. Once I told just about everyone, the only one left to tell was my dad. I started to feel a little bit of that old familiar fear when I thought about telling him. I just couldn’t get the words out. But on June 26,2015 ( the same day the marriage equality act was passed in Congress) it was like the universe was telling me that now was a better time than any.
I waited all day for him to come home from work. The whole time I was giving myself pep talks. When he finally got home, I instantly started shaking. I was so nervous. He could tell that their was something wrong with me. He asked if I was okay. With tear filled eyes and a shaky voice, I said it, ” dad, I’m gay.”
He rapped his arms around me and said, “I know! And mom knew too.” That was the most comforting feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. He went on to tell me that they could both tell that I was gay, even when I was little. Jokingly I said I wish they would have made me aware of that. He told me that they wanted me to be comfortable and ready enough for myself to say something.
Ever since I have come out, life in itself, has been a million times better. I no longer fear the world knowing my truth. The air is sweeter and the world has color again. My life didn’t end because I came out of the closet. Instead I got a happy beginning to a life I am so eager to live.
According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.
I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..
High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.
I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.
Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.
Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx
I have never posted anything serious on social media and I do not like to post for all to see, but I wanted to get my story out there somehow. When I saw the video that @dominauep_c uploaded I thought I might be able to help others with my story. I understand there is a certain limit on characters with these social media outlets, but I think my story is pretty crazy and actually inspiring for anyone willing to listen. Some days I don’t even know how I am still here and still sane. The story I am about to tell isn’t for sympathy or pity but it is for hope. It’s for others to realize that things can get dark but there is always that glimmer of hope at the end.
I was born in an upper middle class family. I was the middle child and probably the cutest out of my siblings. From what I can recall I had a great childhood and a loving family. When I was 13 my family decided to take one more camping trip before the school year started. Little did I know then, but that day my whole life would change.
My mother ended up having a heart attack on the vacation and would never come back home. My father being the man that he was ended up remarrying 3 months after my mother’s passing to a abusive drug addict with 6 kids. With my fathers decision to remarry our extended family fell away. My life went from a loving family of 5 to a family of 11. Life was terrible for me and my siblings. I was constantly physical and verbally abused for years by my step mother with my fathers knowledge. At the end of my ropes, I finally fought back. My father choosing his new family kicked me and my siblings out. My grandparents took us in but only to a certain extent. We lived in their garage and could only bathe in their pool. My sister during this time was to young and had to move back in with my father and my brother ended up moving away to college, leaving me at the hands of my grandparents. Once again physically and verbally abused, my only escape was to go to college.
Going into my freshmen year of college my father decided he wanted me back in his life. He divorced his wife and got a small apartment for us to live. On my first semester break from college, I went home to his apartment to find it abandoned, no note nothing, my dad once again left me and moved in with his new girlfriend. With no where to go, I moved into my car.
When the semester break was over I returned to college and actually became good friends with a girl from my hometown. Telling her my story, her family took me in. I had a loving family again. It was great and awesome until one day I fell in love with that girl. We hid this relationship from her family, and our closest friends for 11 years. We played the straight life in public, but behind closed doors we were in love. Through those closeted 11 years together we went on dates with men to keep rumors of us together at bay.
At the age of 25 I finally saved enough money to buy my first house. My hopes were to have my girlfriend move in with me and actually come out to our friends and family. Like everything else in my life things did not go as planned. We immediately became estranged from my girlfriends family and also mine. It was hell for 2 years for us. I was getting death threats on the regular from her family that I ruined their life and I turned their daughter gay. I was an abomination to society and shouldn’t be loved for what I am. Despite what we were going through we got married in those two years. My wife’s father did not show and her mother the day before decided she would come. My family ended up coming but only a handful and our wedding was mostly celebrated by our friends who supported us.
We bought a house shortly after our wedding and in hopes of starting a family. I am going to fast forward three years and cut out more heartache of miscarriages to current day.
I am 33 now, I have my own family. I am married to the woman I fell in love with 14 years ago. We have a beautiful 16 month old spitfire and one on the way. We have a beautiful home and finally some hope of happiness and peace.I no longer talk to my family for they believe being gay and brining children into this world is cruel. My wife’s family accepts/tolerates us/ me.
I am telling my story to bring hope to those going through dark times and for those who feel alone. We are not alone and we can bring change and we need to bring change. It is important to fight and keep fighting for what we believe in no matter how dark times may get. Fight for yourself and fight for love.
I will end on words that have kept me going “happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn the light on” – Dumbledore