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I’m closed Lesbian. I’m living in the country is strictly Illegal for LGBTQ. But I’m happy with who I am.
I was 26 years old when I finally realized I was attracted to women. Looking back, I have absolutely no idea how I missed it before. I grew up in the southern United States where the idea of being gay isn’t well received. I was raised in the Mormon religion and being gay definitely didn’t align with those teachings so I think my brain worked overtime to justify my attractions as anything other than what they really were. So instead of just growing up thinking I was into guys and girls- I thought I was weird. I remember in high school I had a crush on one of the college girls who volunteered as one of my soccer coaches. She borrowed my hoodie once during a game and I didn’t want to wash it because it smelled like her. But instead of realizing (and enjoying) my crush, I felt like a creep. I would like to say that once I finally realized I was bisexual that it was liberating and exciting, it was actually scary. I didn’t know how to reconcile my religion with my sexuality. The thought of telling anyone and especially my family terrified me. I didn’t want to be judged or viewed differently. I spent a lot of time wishing we lived in a different world. Love should be celebrated in all of its forms and if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s loving people. It took a few years of me slowly coming out to close friends before I finally hit a point of not only acceptance of who I am, but also excitement and pride. I still haven’t come out to my family. I know that their religious beliefs will make it difficult for them and I’m waiting a bit longer to spare their feelings. But in the meantime, I’m learning to honor who I am and be as authentic as possible. I still have plenty of learning and growing to do on my journey, but I’m becoming less fearful and more excited about the future.
I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.
At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.
I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.
I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.
By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.
I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.
Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.
It took me a long time to realize I was gay. I came out to my sisters 4 years ago on March 22nd. I was so nervous! But I couldn’t deny I was a lesbian anymore after I was thinking of Alexandra Daddario the way I was. I realize that finding men attractive didn’t mean I wasn’t gay it just meant I had eyes. Coming out later on is so strange because tv makes it seem like you should have things figured out in middle school, but it’s different for everyone. And I’m glad I can be myself.
Growing up it wasn’t gay or lesbian. In my house it was “homosexual” and it certainly was not a topic of conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I was never told it was a bad thing. My church didn’t tell me I was going to hell. It just simply was not talked about and according to my Mom it was a mental illness that could be cured with therapy (although it had been removed from the DSM in 1973.) When I think back on it I probably started questioning my sexuality when I was about 12 or 13. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening. I just knew that any time I would talk about having a crush on a guy it felt forced. My budding teenage self didn’t have a clue.
When I first started questioning the only out Lesbians, I knew of was a teacher that used to work at the school where my Mom taught. My mom vilified her and talked about how much she disliked her. The other out lesbian I knew of was K.D. Lang. Again, my mind wasn’t thinking in terms of lesbian or gay. These were unfamiliar terms for me. I had heard them, but they almost felt dirty.
At the same time my brother who was of college age would come home talking about bands that were playing at his college, bands like Indigo Girls, REM, B-52s (yes, I am a Georgia girl.) My brother would also frequently talk about his friendship with Keith. I remember wanting to have a solid friendship like my brother had with Keith. I never had many friends growing up. I was very Introverted, still am, bordering on the clinical diagnosis of shy. My friend was whatever book I was reading at the time and the adventures it would show me.
I had been told by my Mom that it was normal for girls to be curious about other girls. Because my Mom said my feelings were normal, I never really felt like I was questioning anything. I just thought all girls thought like I did, and it was OK. Any time I felt weird about anything there was always an explanation. I would get embarrassed having to change out for gym because I was trying so hard to control where my eyes went. Mom said, “honey that’s normal everybody is embarrassed to change out for gym.” I would get “girl crushes” all the time. Mom said, “honey that’s normal girls get crushes on other girls all the time.” There was always an explanation for how I was feeling, and it was always “normal.”
When I was 19, I had just ended my first relationship. It was my first romantic relationship and the one and only relationship with a man. I was in college living at home. I was being exposed to different things. Indigo Girls where my favorite musicians followed up with Melissa Ethridge coming in at a close second. A friend of mine took me to a gay bar. I was more nervous about using an ID that did not belong to me to get in than I was to go to a gay bar. The ID wasn’t fake, it just wasn’t mine.
Once inside I remember seeing a young man with short blond hair. I only saw him from the back. But from the angle I saw he looked good. I remember commenting to my friend “to bad he is gay, he looks cute.” My friend said, “oh, that’s Chris, I’ll introduce you.” The introduction never happened. I remember being socially terrified and ran to the bathroom so I could hide. Later I found out that my friend had given Chris my phone number and told her I was interested. I was mortified both that I hid and that my friend had said I was interested in her. Chris never did call but I was secretly hoping she would.
As I am writing this and now looking back, clearly, I was a Lesbian. I was so “normal” I just hadn’t figured it out yet. I started to test the waters at this time with the idea of coming out and was desperately looking for someone who I could tell and would help me with my journey. I knew no one. I had always been told anything I needed to know I could learn from books. This was pre-internet. I couldn’t find any books about it. There was not gay/lesbian section in my local bookstore. I was a English major at the time so I used the reference section of my college library to find anything I could about being a lesbian. Most everything I found was related to men and it was some interesting at times and weird at times information. It just never told me what I wanted to know. I tried to come out to a person at my church at the time. I was told she was going through a divorce at the time and couldn’t deal with my problems too. It was probably the best.
Skip a few years ahead, I am now 21. Ellen has just come out. Now I know of three people who are out lesbians. My list was growing. The Internet was all the rage. If you were anybody, you had AOL and you would check out chat rooms to “meet” people outside of your bubble. This is where I ultimately met my first girlfriend. We had been “chatting” with each other for a couple of months before she said “hey, we should meet!” I knew she lived north of Atlanta. I had not seen a picture. I hadn’t even come out yet. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was interested the meet this person I seemed to know so intimately yet did not know at all. My over-protective mother had never allowed me to drive to Atlanta. I wasn’t sure how she would take this news. I knew there was no way I could tell her, “Mom, I’m driving to Atlanta to meet a girl that I think I might like. We have been talking on the computer for months. No, I don’t know what she looks like. Yes, I am going.” So, I told my Mom that I was going to Atlanta to visit my brother and Keith. Yes, they finally moved in together.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew if I was going to some random bookstore to meet someone, I had never seen I should probably tell someone. Just in case. I couldn’t tell my brother. I cornered Keith in their kitchen and said, “Before I tell you anything, I need to know that you and my brother are a couple.” Keith responded with calling out my brother’s name and saying, “get your ass in here and tell your sister that you are gay.” Learning this news opened so much more. It now meant that I had someone I could talk to. I “fessed up” and told them my plans. They were both very encouraging and told me to have fun.
It was on this occasion in October of 1998 that the woman I was supposed to meet kissed me. I had been kissed before but this time I understood what people meant when then said something was magical or they saw fireworks. I wish I could say that this first girlfriend and I fell in love and lived happily ever after. That is okay because eight years later when it was the right time for both of us, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 14 years.
A. Ward – Georgia
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.
I’ve known that i was queer since 3rd grade. I found this one girl incredibly beautiful & would constantly try to impress her during recess. I had no idea what i was but i knew that i was different. It wasn’t until a year later that i heard my mom & her friend say the word “lesbian”, i asked what that was & they told me. At that moment, i felt something click & was like “wow, there’s a word for the way that i’m feeling”. Although i knew i was queer, i did not come out until i was 19 & started college. I was greeted with nothing but love & acceptance, which is all that i could’ve hoped for. After an incredibly unhealthy & toxic relationship that put me through large depressive episodes & suicidal moments, i met someone who’s perfect for me. She treats me in such a gentle & beautiful way that it continues to shock me. Although i know that i want to marry her one day, i can’t help but escape the realization that i feel as if i’m a polyamorous pansexual. I am attracted to all genders and all identities. It’s less about the looks, and more about the person & their mind that draws me in. Due to that, i feel as if i have all of this love within me just waiting to be released. The thing is, there’s so much that it’s not satisfied with just one person. It craves to be given to multiple people. At this point in my life, i am 25 years old & here i am stuck. Do i stay in this incredible monogamous relationship that is so genuine & loving but is lacking something for me, or do i take the leap of expressing and exploring my newfound queer awakening?
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.
