Community Rainbow Waves

Differences aren’t a bad thing – Courtney G

I would say that I always sort of knew that I was not aligned with the social norms of the society around me. I knew I was a little different because as a girl, I hated dresses and pink and I loved playing in the dirt and racing the boys in my class. I know that those differences alone didn’t make me sexually different but I felt it was a small sign that who I was in the sexual manner was different. My cousin ended up coming out long before me. He was just a few months older than me and he was my best friend. Seeing as I grew up mostly in a very religious area and was raised in that religion, I learned that homosexuality or gender fluidity was wrong and would send you to hell. So at first, I didn’t understand my cousin much because I was raised to think that sexuality was a choice. I soon saw that he was still the same guy who was my best friend and that I absolutely adored. We still laugh about it to this day, but he knew that I was going to come out someday. As I entered high school and progressed in understanding myself, I knew that I did have strong feelings for women and that men never really interested me, romantically or sexually. I tried to push this down and deny that part of myself but like one of my role models had mentioned is that you can’t really understand yourself without understanding your sexuality because it is such an integral part of you and who you are. I also pushed down ever multiplying thoughts about homosexuality because my mother was very homophobic. So on I went ignoring that part of me and hoping that one day I would fall in love with a man. Then the summer of my junior year in high school I went to ALA Girls State, which was a state camp for girls to understand how government works and all that good stuff. That was where I had my first crush. I really had never had a crush before that I mean not to that intensity. If any of my friends had asked I would have made something up about who I liked at the time. But that summer, I had my first crush, and it was a girl. The moments I realized that I was crushing on someone, I started to panic and try to talk myself out of it. But there was no talking myself out of it anymore. As the time at that camp had come to an end, we had all grown very close and I decided to come out to them. It went very well. I felt so confident about it and was so grateful to have had such a supportive group of girls to come out to first. Not long after, I had my second crush on a girl on my lacrosse team. Let me tell you, it was a hard crush. But really it just helped me understand myself and the feelings of attraction. At that point I was getting a lot more comfortable in my sexuality. I had already come out to some friends and my cousin. Another maybe month later, I was on a cruise with my mother and boyfriend, now step father, and that was when my mother decided to drag me out of the closet. My mother and I have always had a very strained relationship and this really did not help. She really asked me if I was homosexual and at that point I was done denying it. So I said yes, hoping for a better reaction than I got. I didn’t get what I was hoping for. She ended up guilt tripping me and keeping my own money away from me to try and make me not love women. I would as for $10 of my own money that she was holding on to for a souvenir and she would say, “can you not be gay?” as an answer. I ended up having to promise that I would not “be gay” until I was 25, which I really just said to make her leave me alone. I then started to think that she already knew that I liked girls and I wondered how she knew, so I asked. The answer was that she had gone through my phone and my texts and found out. It wasn’t a great. So after that we had many heated talks about my sexuality but in the end she’s still homophobic and probably will never accept it. She and my stepfather think that it’s a phase because “studies show that girl’s sexuality is fluid until they are 25”. As I am distancing myself from them, I am becoming more comfortable and happy with who I am. Thank you to the entertainment industry for being the example and showing me that love is love and that I am okay the way I am. Big thank you to The 100 and Wynonna Earp specifically. I don’t have a label for myself at the moment because I am still discovering who I am. But what I do know is that I am who I am, and that is good enough. STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Lauren. I’m a 24 year old disabled woman from the United States. If you’re taking the time to read my story, thank you. I hope something I’ve written encourages you.

I am a Lesbian.

Yes, you read that correctly. I’m disabled and a lesbian.

No big deal, right? Wrong!

Don’t get me wrong, I love being lesbian and loving who I wish. It wasn’t always that easy though. Due to a conservative Christian, non denominational church background I grew up from day one believing I must be straight. My parents made comments about my getting married to a dude and having children so many times I lost track. Every time they did, something inside me broke a little more, until….

I dated a woman in secret while living with my parents. It was a long distance and we never managed to meet in person and the relationship ultimately ended, but during that time I learned so much about myself. I became much more confident in myself as a person and as a Lesbian.

Ultimately, my parents and I clashed over religious views among other things. I was invited to leave their home and I did. Though I still attended church with them

October of 2019 – I’d been wanting to leave the church for a long time as I felt it was no longer for me. I texted my mother to inform her I was no longer interested in attending church. She replied that she was disappointed and heartbroken. My father’s reaction was similar, but I’d expected it.

Since moving into my own place and telling my parents I was no longer attending church, I’ve felt so much freer to express myself and be who I am. Although, before all that I attempted suicide twice before ultimately embracing every part of who I am. I know in my heart that my parents and conservative friends that I grew up with will never approve of my being a Lesbian. (That’s why I haven’t told them) After 20+ years of a religious upbringing I know that to tell some people who I am would only lead to arguments and hurt feelings.

For every hardship there’s a rainbow at the end of it all.

I’ve found this community within the last year or so as well as an extremely supportive Discord community that has welcomed me with open arms. I feel stronger, kinder, and better, overall then I ever have before in my life. Throughout my journey, I have met so many amazing, loving humans and I am grateful for every single one.

Was it hard?

Absolutely!

Do I wish my story were different?

No.

If I hadn’t gone through everything that I have I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. I don’t think I’d even be sitting here writing this, and hoping that it makes a difference to you, dear reader. I’m grateful to be me. I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful for everyone reading this.

If I can leave you with one lesson, it would be this, be GRATEFUL for who you are and where you’ve come from. No matter what your background is, no matter how dark or challenging it may seem right now.

IT WILL GET BETTER!

One day, you may share your coming out story with people, as I have done here! Be grateful for who you are, because someday your story may mean the world to someone else who is struggling with their sexuality. When you share your story to help someone else, they will be grateful, even for a moment, for your existence. They will spread that gratitude and courage to others.

Let’s build a better, more grateful, inclusive world one rainbow at a time!

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

Rose

I was working a summer season and, for the first time in my life, was around people who were LGBTQ+ (mostly gay ladies). Obviously the question of sexual orientation came up a few times – I had never been with anyone – and a few of my friends suggested that I might be into the girls. I rejected that, having never really considered it as a possibility, wasn’t against it in any way, just never really thought of it as an option! (I come from a very straight white village in the UK)
Anyway, long story short, eventually I realised that maybe actually girls did it for me more than I might have originally thought, I got close to one particular girl, and one of my little brothers came to stay with me. Now, there were a few rumours going round due to a complicated situation involving her ex and a healthy dose of gossip, as often is the case on a season and I thought it best to tell my bro before he heard it from someone else. So, we were in the car and I said look you might hear some things about me and this girl, nothing has happened, I’m not saying I’m gay but I kinda like her and I thought you should hear it from me.
He went silent for a couple of seconds, then he looked at me and just went
“Haha. Gay.”
And that was that.

For the record, he was correct, I am a fully fledged gay, rainbows and all

Abigail, 24, Lesbian

I remember being in high school and finding it extremely difficult to find a connection with the opposite sex. I was pressured by societal norms and my own family to date men, as I know most women are. In my world, things were falling apart. I was bombarded with questions from my conscience: Why didn’t I feel like every other girl? Why couldn’t I feel something, anything for a man? I felt like something was wrong with me and I isolated myself. I spent a lot of time in the art room devoting myself completely to my work. I guess this was a way for me to get my stresses out and to ignore that part of myself that I was so confused about. I did eventually date men in high school, but I was confirming what I felt was real. It was around my senior year of high school that I realized what was going on. I found myself attracted to celebrities, but of the female type. Haha! And after finding my real self, I decided to go to prom…by myself. A bold move, yes, but one where I could be who I wanted to be. I remember standing in room waiting for the doors to open and my friends talking to me about why I was by myself. I told them that I was gay. My one friend who I didn’t know was listening turned and very loudly exclaimed, “You’re gay!?” Let me tell you that everyone in the senior class was there and turned towards me. My response? My cheeks turning red and my heart about to beat itself out of my chest. But then the craziest thing happened; everyone started coming up to me and hugging me and congratulating me. I have never felt more accepted in my life. After that moment, I finally felt ready to come out to my parents and the rest of my family. I told my mom first and I cried my heart out when I told her. She quickly leaned in and hugged me. This hug gave me comfort and relief. She told me that she did not care who I loved, as long as I was happy. This was the good part. My dad was not so happy, with the familiar statement of, “It’s just a phase.” To those who will be reading this, I tell you now that it is not a phase. Be true to yourself and always pursue happiness no matter how many obstacles you find standing in your way. Now to continue, I will let you know that the journey with the rest of my family was difficult, but over time, they started to see the true me. They accepted who I was and I cannot ask for more than that. It was also helpful that I started to find people out there like me. I knew I wasn’t alone. That is when I knew I was a part of this wonderful community of loving people with beautiful souls. We all know that love is love and we have all been through very dark moments. But it is not these moments that define us, it is how we react to them. Together we rise and fight against the hate. From the words of Mother Teresa: “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.” So, let’s start the wave. Love you all, from an American soldier, a loving friend, a human – Abigail.

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

Honest liar to bisexual fire

It’s hard to say when I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ community. Coming out to myself and to everyone else, including family, was a slow process that took years. This was probably due to one, growing up in the 90’s/early 2000’s and two, growing up in the South (as in conservative Southern American States). I knew I was different from a young age, maybe around five or six years of age. I loved sports and loved playing with the boys at school, whether it be soccer, rugby or street hockey; even though female activities like playing with barbies and the color pink were encouraged. I remember being the only girl in fourth grade playing hockey with the boys. The guidance counselor, Mr. B, pulled me in his office one day and said that I could not play anymore. When I asked why, he said it was because I was a girl and it’s a boy’s activity. The boys did not want me to play with them (maybe because I was just as good, if not better).

Fast forward to middle and high school, we had moved to a very small town with around 90 people in my graduating class. I had mostly male friends, and a few good female friends. I struggled with my sexuality and tried to suppress thoughts and feelings. I was an anxious wreck (like most of us) at this age. I remember flipping through the few channels we had and stopping on an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, “Seeing Red”. I think this was probably my first sort of “awakening” to the LGBTQ community. I had never seen this show before, but I had heard of it. There were two females on TV and they were in bed together, kissing! My mind was blown 🙂 This was the late 90’s/early 00’s and we didn’t have smart phones or the queer representation you see in TV shows, tumblr, etc. that we have today. This kind of thing was sacreligious where I grew up (and still is for a lot of people). Needless to say I binge watched the show and fell in love. Willow and Tara’s relationship, and the acceptance among peers on the show, was the first of its kind on television and it was influential for so many people. Their relationship showed me that it’s okay to love someone of the same sex, and it’s hard to imagine this today, but that kind of acceptance just wasn’t part of the culture in which I was raised. I found the wonderful world of fanfiction and began to explore the LGBTQ community.

My parents raised me to be honest. I am a horrible liar and anyone who really knows me will know I am lying immediately. It’s something I value very much in myself and the people I surround myself with. The internal struggle to be honest with myself while also hiding an important piece of who I was from others was so exhausting. And I didn’t even realize what I was doing for years. I slowly began to accept myself in high school, after watching things like Buffy, Gia, etc. But there were setbacks. I was taunted and made fun of by my peers in school after slipping up and making a gay joke with one of my friends. The rumor I was a lesbian spread like wildfire and I vehemently denied it, hoping my parents would not find out. My mother found a few notes between my friends and I that were filled with immature/lewd jokes. One of those friends happened to be my best friend; a girl I had a bit of a crush on. We occasionally flirted and I could tell she liked me too, but nothing ever happened. When my mother read the notes between us, she sat me down and asked me if I was “gay or bi”. She was so upset that I was scared to be honest and denied it. My parents threatened to send me to a catholic school if I didn’t straighten up (pun intended haha). So, I withdrew that part of myself again, and it took several years to come to terms with who I truly was. Shame is a powerful thing. Especially when it is used to mold young, impressionable minds.

College was definitely a different experience. I could not wait to move on from the small-minded town/high school of my teenage years into a more open minded, accepting atmosphere. I moved out of my parent’s house as soon as I could (18 or 19) and started college. As I distanced myself from the judgmental, shameful environment in which I was raised I, again, slowly began to realize/accept who I was. I finished my Associates degree and decided to join the military in my early 20’s. This changed my life. I had preconceived about the military from things I had seen on television, but it was nothing like Hollywood portrayed (surprise). You trained hard and played hard as a family. The military was in front of a lot of the civilian population in social movements (and that was a legitimate surprise!). Acceptance of all races, ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations, etc. is drilled into you from day one. And it is a problem for some, but for most the struggle of military life brings you together, regardless of background and culture. The same year I joined was the same year the military repealed the “Don’t ask don’t tell” (DADT) act which was a policy implemented by the Clinton administration that barred discrimination/bullying to closeted homosexuals while banning openly gay people from serving. After the repeal of DADT, and several equal opportunity lawsuits, same-sex marriage and spouse benefits were eventually incorporated. Some states were definitely ahead of this act, however, the South struggled with these Obama administration policies.

At this point in my life, I had dated and been in a few long-term relationships with men (well more like boy-men :). But they all ended the same. The beginning was fun and exciting, then we would end up being more like good friends and I would end it. I was never interested in marriage and definitely could not see myself marrying a man. I was more comfortable in my own skin in my mid-20’s and began to identify as bi. I didn’t openly come out and tell people, but I didn’t deny my attraction to females either. As I progressed in my military career and traveled the world, I met so many people from different cultures. I don’t know any official statistics for the LGBTQ community in the military, but I have met SO many since I joined. This acceptance enabled me to explore my true self in a safe environment, and I will be forever grateful to the military for this. I don’t go home often, but when I do, I still feel uneasy and somewhat ashamed to be myself (something I am working on).

At 29 years old, I met the love of my life. Something I didn’t think existed. We met in a training program in the military and immediately hit it off. We became fast friends and shortly after realized it was way more than friendship. It felt like a tiny flame had burst into a raging fire inside me, and I had never been happier in my life. I had a few flings in college and after joining the military, but I had never been in a relationship with a woman. A lot of things were very new for me, but everything just felt right for the first time in my life. I knew this was it and I came out to my family, very slowly. I told my siblings, closest aunts and uncles, and my father and grandparents and they were all very supportive, to my surprise. I had great anxiety about coming out to the family, but it was all worth it for her. The last person I told was my mother, because I knew this would be the most difficult. But it turned out to be more difficult than I could imagine. She did not take the news well and does not accept our relationship, mostly due to religious reasons. It has taken a toll on our already strained relationship.

We were engaged on May 2019 and married at the beginning of this year. After training, we both went to our separate duty stations and have been separated for the better part of three years. One of the unfortunate things about a military career is the time sacrificed from loved ones. Due to COVID-19 and the restriction of military movement, we have remained separated. It has been the hardest three years of my life, but every second was worth our eventual reunion. One of the things we do to pass the time is binge watch television shows. We started watching Wynonna Earp last year after she came back from a six-month deployment. Waverly and Nicole’s relationship is such a beautiful relationship and we have loved watching the character developments. Growing up with almost zero LGBTQ representation in the media makes me appreciate a amazing shows like WE. Thank you Dom, Mel, Kat, Emily, Tim and the rest of the cast and crew for helping my wife and I get through these tough times!

I’m a trans-masculine nonbinary lesbian.

I realized that I liked women when I was thirteen. I recognized it and came out as bisexual when I was fourteen years old. I came out for the first time on 3/29/20. I kept searching for labels that fit better after realizing that bisexuality didn’t fit me. I began experimenting with they/them pronouns and my attraction to men decreased very quickly. I chose a new name for myself and began using they/them pronouns. I began identifying as a lesbian, and came out as a lesbian in June 2020. In July, I came out as nonbinary. I started dressing masculine and I felt a lot more comfortable. I was not accepted by my family after coming out, and I struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety and possibly ADHD. Even though I was out of the closet, I still struggled with internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality. My family continues to deadname and misgender me, despite all my efforts to correct them and get them to use my correct name and pronouns. I began to self harm to cope with gender dysphoria and my family’s rejection of my identity. I still live with my family and I am not currently able to get away from them or move out. Seeing the state of the country that I live in, and how it treated people like me worsened my feeling of hopelessness. My story does not have a happy ending yet, but I want to live to make it better. I am human. I’ve got goals, and dreams, and hopes. I am not just my past, and I am not just my trauma. I want to become an actor. I want to have a family one day. I want to adopt kids when I get older. I can’t wait to make some of my dreams come true.

Gwen

This is a great community! I am 61 and knew from an early age, like 9?, that I was different. I did not have any one or group to guide me thru all the avenues that abounded. I’m surprised really how I have survived. Thank you for giving the Newbies and the closeted some place to find their strength and courage. Rock on!

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.

Gay

I guess I started questioning my sexuality when I was 10, I’d experimented with girls and was just very confused. I didn’t know what it meant to like girls, but some part of me, did. As I grew up, my friends would ask me if I was bi, because they’d noticed how I looked at our vice principal, who happened to be a woman. I denied it. I denied liking anyone, until I met my boyfriend. He was my safety net. No one really questioned me anymore, because I had a boyfriend, so pretty much everyone just assumed I was straight, except the few people who knew. *Coughs* The girls I’d been with behind closed doors, and my therapist. When I was 15, my therapist outed me as bisexual to my mother, I was terrified because I grew up in a very closed-minded, judgmental, “Christian” “family”. Being too scared to tell the truth, I chickened out and said I was bi. This came with more questions, mainly from my mother. “I thought you liked boys, you have a boyfriend”. Then came the shame. “It’s a sin, you’ll go to hell”. And at the time, I didn’t know better, and wasn’t taught better, so I believed it. I believed I was going to go to hell, if I was myself. If I liked anyone but boys. So I tried. I tried to like boys for as long as I could. I dated boys. In secret, I also dated girls. I didn’t know how to stop how I felt, I was so confused. I was too sheltered and didn’t have any guidance or anyone to talk to about these feelings, until I discovered the TV show South Of Nowhere, in 2005. I was still 15, and didn’t have much supervision at night when my mom was at work, so I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. South Of Nowhere is a show about a girl very much like me, came from a very closed-minded, “Christian” family. She met a girl and started questioning everything. Ironically, the same character that made her question everything, made my brain go crazy. I’d liked this character way more than what was considered “normal”. I started deep diving into my thoughts and feelings with every new episode, and slowly, eventually I started realizing who and what I was. The show had a bunch of different perspectives so it really helped guide me to figure out what MY beliefs and opinions were. By the end of the series, 5ish years later, I had finally admitted it to myself. I had to come out to myself first. I was gay. There was guilt, I was still ashamed of who I was. It took a few years for me to be okay with who and what I was, but eventually I was. When I was about 20 my mom and I were in a heated argument about gay and transgender people, and she made me pretty upset so I told her that she was hurting my feelings because I’m one of the people she was being so hateful towards, she didn’t really understand and sort of just blew it off, didn’t really say anything. About a year later, when I was 21, the same argument happened, again. (We’d had a lot of those arguments). And again, I told her she was hurting me because I was gay. This time, she heard me.

My name is Hope, and I’m an out and proud, gay woman.