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Out Is The New In​

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Lesbian

I am now 23 but my coming out process started when I was 13, and to be perfectly honest, it will probably never stop. In today’s society I am constantly having to ‘come out’ to new people as no one ever assumes you are gay if you don’t look a certain / stereotypical way. I always knew I liked girls since I was in primary school at the young age of 6 before I even knew it had a label. I suppressed this as there was not any same sex representations to normalise these feelings I had. But at 13 I fell in love with a girl and started my relationships with girls from this age, forcing me to identify as bisexual only to this girl. However, once that relationship ended I forced myself back to being ‘straight’ in my own mind, maybe because all of the hiding made me feel different and therefore ashamed. But when I was 15 I met another girl and convinced myself it was only her I liked and no other girls and that I was still ‘straight’. But at 16 I decided to come out as bisexual to my football team as this was my safe place since a lot of the team identified as bisexual / lesbian also. It was only when I turned 17 that I came out to my very religious friends and non-religious family who all embraced me as well as I could have expected. There was awkwardness around my first relationship and I hated this, and I refused to withhold my affections with my girlfriend for my family’s sake when I knew they wouldn’t have felt this way if she were a boy. They soon came around however and are now very accepting. I only came out as bisexual because I wanted to feel more ‘normal’ and admitting I was a lesbian made me more different than I was comfortable with. However, just before I turned 18 I decided that I needed to fully accept who I was, and not seek acceptance or validation from anyone. This was the best thing I ever did, and I’m now so happy with who I am and I am proud of it.

I am a female

I am 14 but i noticed may of 2019 but came out in July of 2019. My mother was supportive and so were friends but the rest of my family kind of looks down upon it.

Mikayla

In retrospect, there were plenty of signs throughout my childhood that proved I wasn’t straight. No, I didn’t just really, really want to be friends with certain female classmates like I thought at the time, I had huge crushes on them. At 13, I consciously made the decision to be an “ally” to my friend whom I thought might be gay. Oh, the irony. Even after taking every available “Am I Gay?” quiz on the internet, my brain managed to maintain the wall it put up to protect my consciousness from the reality of my queer identity. “Reality” involved too many struggles, uncertainties, and judgements that I would’ve had to face once I came out to myself, so I spent years unaware that a part of me had already begun questioning my sexuality. Then, when I was 16, I had a dream that I was dating one of my female classmates. I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night and said out loud to myself, “Shit, I’m gay.” An epiphany. Then, I smiled, so peaceful and happy to finally understand so much of my life from before that moment. Though, the fear eventually set in. I tried so desperately to stay closeted and avoid being a target for the homophobia expressed by my family and classmates that I spent everyday until graduation with the goal of being as invisible as possible. Almost three years later, I’d mostly come to terms with being bisexual and decided to come out to my little sister, step-sister, and best friend. They all accepted me immediately. Then, a few weeks later, the Pulse Nightclub shooting happened in my city and it stomped out all the light of my newfound openness. However, it was never a question that I would eventually come out to everyone I could, but afraid that I’d be disowned, I decided to wait until I graduated college and moved out of my mom’s house to come out to my parents. Things didn’t work out that way though because I was outed to my mother when she found paperwork from my therapist about my sexuality and a few other very serious issues I was seeking help for. I had to officially come out to her in a therapy session after that. She said she loved me no matter what but we haven’t spoken about it in three years. I was less interested in hiding my identity from my Trump-supporting dad since I didn’t live with him anyway. Eventually, he asked me about the pride flag on my keychain so I told him I was bi. He also said he loved me no matter what but that it’s better if I just pick one gender to be interested in (I decided to choose my battles wisely and leave that conversation for another time). He hugged me and said he’d keep my “secret” and we haven’t talked about it in a year. I have spent the last few years living “out” and finding where I belong in the world and among the vastness of the queer community. Most of this part of my journey has been led by Wynonna Earp, its fandom and cast, and Start The Wave, as they came into my life at the most pivotal moments possible and exactly when I truly needed them. The universe, man. And now, I’ll navigate the next steps of my journey to fully living as my authentic self with my brave little sister by my side since she has recently come out to me as bisexual. We got this. To other queer people, you got this, too.

A 30-something year old whose journey took her from bisexual to lesbian to queer to not needing a label at all.

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.

The boy I’ve always been

Since I was Young I’ve always felt like the term female never suited me and that is was weird that people would reffer to me that way. I remember that when I first learned from my teacher about the genders she would point to me and call me a girl, I looked at her with a face painted with hurt and said “I’m a boy” She laughed and said no you’re not sweetheart. Through the years that little moment always has been there in my mind, it was the moment I already knew that the body I was born with wasn’t the body that was actually meant for me, just looking in mirrors just made me wanna puke, seeing a too feminine body just didn’t fit with the gender and person in my head.

Around 7/10 years old I kept saying to other people that is as a boy just born in the wrong body, they would laugh at me and say that something like that just doesn’t exist, but yet I stayed strong and kept living with the idea that I knew who I was and that something about my body was wrong. It stayed like that until high school, people started to bully me way more than before, saying I looked weird and that if I didn’t change into a normal ‘girl’ my life would get worse and worse, I didn’t want that I was done with all the bullying and pushing around, so I changed into the person I wasn’t, a girl, wearing skirts and dresses cause others expected me to wear those. While pushing the thoughts of me being a boy aside I found myself having anxiety and depression.

The depression lasted for years and my friends kept telling me it will be alright and everything will change when I just find out who I rlly was,
So I did just that I went online and began my research with transitioning and being a transgender once again but this time I didn’t let anyone hold me back(I was 14/15 here).

Even though my hair was still long and my body pretty feminine I went back to the all boy-ish clothes and found my self getting happier but not happy enough, my 16th birthday came around and I wanted to have one thing, a binder, my parents were confused but still bought one for me, when I got it I Immediately put is on and I cried, I cried for at least an hour or so, not because something was wrong but because I was so happy. A week after my birthday I came out as transgender to my parents and sister, my mom hugged me and said she already had a feeling that I’ve always been a boy, and she was happy I finally found the person I was (I’m currently crying as well🤦‍♂️).

After I came out as transgender🏳🌈 I cut my hair and bought more boy clothes and threw the girly ones away my friends at school helped me change my name and gender in the school system, and that was a year ago, I’m currently 17 years old a happy trans boy (as far as my happiness now can get) and I can’t wait to begin my next chapter in life, which is going to be testosterone shot.

It helped that a lot a people around me also just accept and support me.(btw my whole family accepts me❤)

So here is me a trans guy who’s still pre everything but happy and excited to see what else is about to happen In life😊

-JaeJae-

Part of the lgbtq+ community

I feel before we come out to other people, we always have to
come out to ourselves first. It took a few years for me to figure
everything out, acknowledge my queerness and accept myself. I can
somehow relate to Dominique. The lack of Bi and Pan representation kinda
made me think that you could either be gay or straight. I thought that
for a long time until i decided to use Mr. Google. My saviour. After
reading about all these sexualities and genders i was shocked tbh. And
then i wondered how many people knew about this. I was pretty sure my
friends and family didnt. I couldnt ask any help from anyone. I was 13.
My friends wouldnt know what to do, my parents probably would’ve asked
me why im thinking about all this and ask to forget about it, my brother
probably wouldnt have cared and my cousins, well i wasnt really close to
them back then as i am now. So yeah, i was alone. When i realised that i
wouldnt mind dating a girl, i told my best friend. Talking to her helped
me. But i was in denial. I couldnt accept that i probably liked girls. I
thought probably it was just a phase. Maybe im confused. Later i got
busy with school and just forgot about it. End of that year i went on a
group tour. Then i kinda had a crush on one of the girls. Took me a
while to realise it was a crush. And then all the questions came back.
“Do i like her? What is this feeling? Am i gay?” Then i was in denial
again. “I dont like her. Maybe i just think she is pretty. I cant like
girls. No way” Ever after the tour ended i kept thinking about the way i
felt about this girl. Then i took a trip down memory lane. Tried to
recall who i liked and whether i had a thing for girls. Looking back, i
did. But i just always used to tell myself that it was just envy. Then
one night i just sat in my room and i said out loud, “I like girls. But
im not gay cause i’ve had crushes on guys. So what does that make me?
Bisexual?”. That question was left unanswered until new years. After new
years i still couldnt accept the fact that i like girls. I used to sit
in church after mass ended and id ask God “why me? Out of all the people
in the world, why me? How could i feel this way?”. I later on realised i
was just scared because i knew that the lgbtq+ community has to deal
with hate and discrimination. I didnt want to go through that. I used to
be ashamed of myself. I guess you could also say i tried to “pray the
gay away”. Took me sometime to realised that its not my fault. I am who
i am and i need to love myself. I identified as bisexual at the
beginning, also came out to a few friends, my brother and one of my
cousins. But now i dont really WANT to put a label on my sexuality. Its
just confusing sometimes.

Anyway the internet helped me a lot in my coming out journey. Especially
instagram. So thank you to all the lgbtq+ accounts, the lgbtq+ celebs
who were brave to come out and even the actors who are allies and took a
role of an lgbtq+ character.

Hold up, im not done yet. Im turning 16 this year. Im still young and
got lots to learn about the world and myself. I still have to come out
to more people in the future and hopefully meet other queer people. So i
hope that we will have more lgbtq+ representation. Not only in Hollywood
but in other platforms i guess.
Thank you for your time.

Im proud of those who has come out
and those in the closet. Be strong and love yourselves.
Love ya

#outisthenewin

Gay

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQIA+ when I was young, like- as young as 8. I just never knew what it all meant. My father being homophobic and being taught by him that it was wrong for like the same gender. I was confused. I first kissed a girl when I was around that age that led onto a lot more confusing thoughts and depression. I got diagnosed when I was 11. I moved far away from where my Dad lives and I started year 6. In year 7 I lost my virginity to a girl I don’t know the name of. I started smoking (cigarettes & weed) a lot. I came out to my Mum in Year 8 (last year) She just said okay. I was crying and she asked why I was crying. I couldn’t answer. My sister already knew and my brother wasn’t surprised. I cut my hair short earlier this year and when I told my Dads side of the family about they said ‘why?! You’ll look like a dyke!’ Which I just ignored. I am now in a relationship that I really care about and I’m not scared about being with her. Yeah, I still get bullied at School for being and openly gay 14 year old. But, at least I’m happy. Until the inevitable. She leaves. Which is what I’m most scared about right now. Everyone always leaves.

Chris. P.S. Believe in yourselves. Dream. Try. Do good. -Mr Feeny

Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)

At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!

That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)

Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.

My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.

My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)

I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.

I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?

I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?

I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.

Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?

Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?

I AM A WORKING PROGRESS

I am a working progress; I think that is the better way to describe myself.
Growing up I have always felt like I didn’t belong in my family, that there was something off about me. My family and teachers and a lot of people made me feel like I was never enough, like I didn’t belong there. I am sure they didn’t mean to, but that’s how they made me feel. I had zero self-steam and I didn’t like anything about myself, in fact, I considered myself a bad person and didn’t believe in me. And the worst thing was that I didn’t get me, I knew there was something off with me but could get my head around it, like a part of me was missing… and I felt lost and alone.
But two years ago, my life started changing when for the first time and without me expecting it I felt in love with a girl. I have never been attracted to women before, so this came as a totally surprise for me. And it scared me a lot and made me really confused and my head couldn’t stop spinning with all the questions and mental confusion I had. I didn’t know what was happening and I new I had two options I could either burry everything and ignore it or I could deal with it and see what was happening. And obviously I am here so I took to follow my heart and not my head. Because as scared and confused I was feeling, a part of me knew that there was something in it that felt RIGHT.
And here started the most difficult, challenging but totally worthy journey I have ever taken. I have never been a confident or extrovert girl as you might have already figure it out. It takes me forever to express my feelings and since I am really shy and was really confused, I decided to not tell anyone anything until I got something clear in my head and figure out what all of it meant. So, I dated this girl for more than a year without anyone knowing it. But at some point, after days of feeling overwhelmed with thoughts and shouting inside my head, I finally had the courage to do what for me was one of the most difficult things to do which was come out to MYSELF. Accept myself and accept that I was no longer only attracted to man but that if I felt for a woman that meant that I could fell for another women. Accept that I was bi-sexual. And even though for me it was a really difficult to accept, not for me but because of how much my life will have to change and the struggles that I knew I will have to face. Specially with my super traditional and old-school family. But for the first time I GOT ME, I understood me, I MADE SENSE.
But at some point, accepting myself wasn’t enough. I reached a point in my life where I was in a bad place. I was not feeling good at home, I was under a lot of pressure within the University and work, I was not okay in my relationship and I was feeling like I was tired of hiding this part of myself to my friends. I have been hiding myself for over a year and now that I had finally accepted myself, I started to feel like every time I would talk to my friends, I was lying to them by not letting them know this other part of me. So, I was not happy in any aspect of my life and everything was killing me inside and I went into depression.
And at one point in this depression I reached the bottom, I could not feel any worst. And in that moment I said to myself “ okay, you have shit in your life and you are feeling worst than you have ever felt but you touched the ground, you cannot feel worst… and it is okay to be sad and angry and confused and desperate but now it is time to get up” and what I did next was to go one by one to each thing that was killing me inside and try to figure out if I could do something about it to change it. And so I decided it was time to tell someone because I couldn’t deal with everything by myself. And I knew exactly who I needed but even though I was sure who I was going to come out, it took me 3 days to tell her. I did 3 attempts and it didn’t come out as I wanted and obviously I was crying and it was a mess, but that moment changed my life. Because when I told one of my best friends that I was bi, she had the best reaction ever… she looked at me, smiled and said “Really? Well now I like you even more”
Sometimes you just need a look, a smile or someone to tell you the words that you didn’t know you needed to hear. Because at that specific moment, I felt like a huge weight was off my shoulders. I was carrying so many things by myself that I couldn’t do it anymore. And it made me feel amazing and happy and relieve. And I loved so much that reaction that within the next one or two months I told all of my closest friends and every time I said the words, even though it was still really hard it took me a huge weight of my shoulders.
And from there everything started to get into place. Some of my friendships changes so much (in the best way possible), I ended the relationship that was being really toxic (although it gave me the best gift of my life), I got a job in another country so I could leave my family and that environment and I started to love myself.
And its been several months since then, and I can tell you I have never been happier. I am a working progress and still have a lot of way to go but finally I get me, I accept me, and I am starting to like me. I feel free and proud and happy and excited to see what life has to offer me. And yes I still have to tell my family and a lot of people but for the moment, I am in another country where I can be who I really am, my friends back home know me and love me and I feel more complete that I have ever felt.

Anonymous

i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.