I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.
Confidence……Sexual confidence
Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.
Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.
Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.
The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?
Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.
With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.
Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.
Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.
I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.
WHY?
I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.
That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.
Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.
The was it.
No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.
Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.
With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.
This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.
Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.
Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.
Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?
The answer…….
CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.
Well in 2018 when school ended I went to camp. While I was there I created new friendships. I learned from them about all different sexualities. I had only know of gay and lesbian. When I realized there was a way to like everyone or even just a boy and girl I felt different. I felt like a piece of my had changed in that moment. Then some of my friends were either lesbian or bisexual. I felt I had to do the same. I ended up saying I was bi. I didn’t actually know if i was but then I had done a lot of thinking what if I actually was. I got scared because I knew my sister would support but what about my parents.
My parents are very accepting but I still didn’t know. My dad though I didn’t know and got really scared, I had been watching riverdale and Choni came up my dad had walked past and said “what is this” I didn’t really think about it at first. Then while thinking I thought what if he doesn’t support. My mind went crazy. I was 10 at the time and didn’t know what to do. I love my parents dearly because without them I wouldnt be here. Because they took me in when I was just a tiny baby. I have always had support from them, but I was always scared to tell them anything. So when this came about I got scared. But I’ve learned i have to open up sometimes.
Well turns out I was truly bisexual. I ended up watching a lot of videos making sure. The videos made me more open minded and that there are other people out there struggling. Then I came across Wayhaught through the videos. I automatically fell in love with them. I realised that this is truly who I am and that I shouldn’t care about what people think. Then 6th grade happened.
That year was probably the worst. I had told people who I thought I could trust. Turns out I couldn’t, they had told the whole class that I was Lesbian even tho I was bi. I was terrified through that month because I didn’t know what they were thinking. I had been so confident that year after telling people. But when that happened I broke. I ended up feeling like trash. And i didn’t know how to handle it. Then that was when. I found my love for edits. They had helped a lot. Most of them were gay ships from tv shows or YouTube. The one that helped me most was Wayhaught. The edits of them made me feel better. Then the summer came around and I got Netflix. Finally I could watch Wynonna Earp!! The first time I watched it was for Wayhaught but then I actually fell in love with the show.
I felt loved more. During the summer me and my friend had become really close we were both able to talk about girls together. The summer made me feel wanted again and that I shouldn’t care if someone doesn’t accept me. When I went back to school this year for 7th I will admit I was a little scared but i had come with a plan. I didn’t even use it though. I chickened out and just said it was a rumor and that it was all a lie just because I got scared. Now I am still in 7th but I am more confident than ever. Yes it took a long while and it ended with really bad anxiety it was worth it knowing I am worth it.
I had accomplished one thing, I had come out to my sister!! Even tho I wanted to wait a little longer the universe had plans.
I have just finished rewatching Wynonna Earp for maybe the hundredth time lol. But now I am more confident to write this and declare my sexuality. Even tho it was a tough ride and it’s still not over I am here to say I AM OUT AND PROUD!! I deserve to be myself and not letting anyone’s opinions get I my way.
Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.
The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.
And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.
I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.
After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.
Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.
I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”
Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”
Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.
When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.
So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;
Being queer is something I have always been. But before I discovered this gorgeous term, I just always said to myself, “I’m me, and that’s it”.
Before I knew I was gay, I didn’t know much about labels. Growing up, I never saw the benefits of placing myself into categories. It felt too forced as if I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.
Ever since I remember, I have always been drawn to women. When I was a child, I had no understanding of attraction but throughout these years, whenever I watched something on TV or socialised with others, it was other girls who I felt pulled towards.
Willow from Buffy, Root from Person of Interest to Rose from Doctor Who, I had multiple fangirl obsessions. But because of the society that we live in, heteronormativity dominated the classroom and playground.
All of the other girls appeared to only like boys whereas I only saw them as friends or even brothers. Amongst the confusion, I kept saying to myself, “well, I’m just me” and that’s okay. Yet I didn’t talk about my feelings to my family. I was too scared.
Skipping ahead to 2016, I was off to university and at this point, I knew more about the LGBTQ+ community and sexuality. But I still didn’t ask myself where I fit in the rainbow spectrum.
Looking back, I was in denial.
I kept remembering moments where I had friends who were boys. When they said they wanted to be my boyfriend, I knew in my gut that I never wanted it to happen. But then I thought, it might just be these boys you don’t like, you might like others
So as I got older, I remembered men that I had met at social gatherings and went through the same process. I tried to picture myself being intimate with them. It felt so wrong. But when I imagined the same scenario with another woman, I felt immense joy and happiness bubble up inside me. It felt so right and so beautiful.
Over time and with the help of some of my favourite fictional queer characters (thank you Willow Rosenberg and Alex Danvers), I felt ready to come out.
The first person I told was my amazing sister. I knew she wouldn’t have any difficulty accepting this part of me because she, in fact, already knew.
Apparently, I suck at keeping my queerness hidden. Which I am really proud of. Maybe even my younger self knew I didn’t need to be afraid.
So far, so good, my sister was supportive as any sibling could be. Next, were my friends but this felt more casual. There was no big announcement. When the right moment came along, I just said, “I only like women” or “Yep, I’m a lesbian”. Thankfully, I have wonderfully loving friends and some are also queer.
The two people I was felt most nervous to tell was my mum and grandma. We aren’t a religious family but they have made comments about queer folk in the past that has made me uncomfortable.
Regardless of my trepidation and fear, I knew I had to embrace my authenticity and start living for myself. So I sent my Mum a text. She said she didn’t know I was attracted to other women but that it didn’t matter. She didn’t love me any differently.
And my Nan, well, I never actually said to her, “I’m gay”. When I told her I had someone and her name was Sophie, she didn’t even bat an eyelid, she just carried on with her day. I love that response because that’s how I believe it should be. Being queer needs to be normalised in society. Why should we have to announce, “This is me, I am coming out.. as myself”.
It feels wrong to me that we should even have to reveal or announce our sexual or gender identity. I want to live in a world where people don’t fear difference but embrace and cherish it. Where we can be accepted and loved.
Since I came out, my life has been transformed and I fully accept that being queer is one of the most beautiful parts of myself. I am living authentically, with grace, gratitude, joy, compassion and empathy.
I believe when we live authentically, the Earth falls into balance and we become ONE with every being in the universe.
I truly believe that stories are the way we connect and reflect the bravery, challenges, love, and fear that is this human experience.
I knew I was attracted to girls at the age of seven/eight. Because I had feeling for my friend – I couldn’t name the feeling and it didn’t feel wrong in any way. My friend would sit on my lap and I’d feel so much love for her. As time went on, I released this was not ‘normal’ and no other girls were talking about girls but only boys, so I ignored my feeling for girls for years and years.
I lived in a small town in South Africa and I literally felt like the only gay in the village. If there was any mention of LGBTQI people, it was always in disgust and a negative light. So I was terrified about my feelings. I felt so alone, scared and confused. And then at university (in this small town), I started falling in love with my best friend and it was unbearable. I slipped into a deep depression and started taking antidepressants.
And then something magical happened, I found Youtube but more specifically a LGBTQ channel on Youtube called ‘The Beaver Bunch’ and for the first time I saw real life bisexual, queer, lesbian, trans people living their lives open and proud. I think I watched every single video and keep finding more and more channels. And just like that I didn’t feel so alone and decided to come out. First I came out to the Youtube community in a video and they welcomed me with open arms, love and support. I felt so overwhelming by the support that it gave me the courage to come out to my family.
Coming out to my immediate family didn’t go as well as I had hoped, my dad and sister could care less I was gay but my mum took it hard. She was and is my rock and when I felt her pull away, it broke my heart. I can say now a decade later, she is my biggest ally and supporter.
Besides my mum, all others I came out to were supportive. I feel very blessed and haven’t experience any negative ramifications regarding my sexuality.
I’ve been out for a decades this year and in the same year I came out I met my future wife. I’ve never known a love like I love her. She’s been my best friend, soul mate, and lover for 10 years. But this year just as covid went into full swing, she at the age of 36 was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. To say it’s been a tough time is an understatement, it’s been a living nightmare. All I can do is watch the woman I love and adore fight every day to be here. We exist on the edge of hope and despair every day, and live every day for the small moments of joy that we can find.
So to end, I just want to let everyone know that at the end of the day all we have is love. And love has nothing to do with our physicality, race, gender, or sexuality – but our souls. I hope one day this world will wake up to this and embrace love as the compass the guides us. Light and love to all.
