A genderqueer Rose.
Well, I realised I was in the community when I was 15 but I’m still figuring out myself. I started coming out when I was 16 and now I just don’t really care who knows cause I love myself and that’s all you need.
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Well, I realised I was in the community when I was 15 but I’m still figuring out myself. I started coming out when I was 16 and now I just don’t really care who knows cause I love myself and that’s all you need.
I knew when i was younger that I’ve always felt different, I would only hang out with the boys in my class in would find it way easier to talk to them. But when it came to girls, I always became shy and felt kinda wierd. Now 4/5 years later I know what it is. I like girls. As easy as it sounds, but it isn’t always easy. My coming out was really nice but unexpected though… my two best friends (both girls) were joking with me because I’m always really curious. So one day they said they had some secret of some sorts, I kept on asking what it was and in the end they said that they were dating. And I freaked out, in a good way though. I said to them that I support them no matter what is happening. Then one of them said if I had to tell them something (as in am i gay), and I said yes and I tild them my story and that I had been struggling a lot with it just a few months before it. Lucky for me they were so supportive, i was really shaking when i told them because it was the part that i’ve hidden for almost my whole life. And on top of that, one of them also came out after I told them (lets just call her Laura for example). Laura told me she had been struggling with the same thing… After that we talked the whole night about. It was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. I haven’t come out to my family yet but i think they and actually know that they know because it’s pretty clear. I know that my parents are going to be fine about it, but I don’t know how Laura her parents going to react. They are really religious, but that isn’t my story to tell.
So I’ll introduce my self real quick…
I’m Karlijn, I’m 15 years old and I am Gay
And I’m proud of it!
If you ever want to talk to me about your situation, I’m pretty much always awake so hmu at @karlijn_dmooij on ig. Because I’m here for you
I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community when I was 13 and met my best friend. My best friend is genderqueer and showed me what the LGBTQ+ community is. At first, I was amazed that I had spent so much of my life not knowing about this fantastic community but then, I got to thinking what if I’m a part of the LGBTQ+ community? So being the person that I am, I spent hours upon hours of researching and learning everything I could about the LGBTQ+ community. And after learning and researching until my brain felt like it was going to die, I came to the conclusion I was bisexual. The next day I came out to my best friend and she was accepting. I then proceeded for the next couple of months to come out to friends; they all were accepting. In late December of 2018, I came out to my parents as a lesbian. I didn’t come out to them as bisexual because I knew deep down I was lesbian. Nonetheless, my parents are accepting of my sexuality. The next day I came out to my brother, and he was accepting and then later that day came out as gay to me and my parents; my parents are accepting of his sexuality as well. I then spent the next year coming out to my aunts, uncles, and cousins; and they all are accepting of my sexuality. Overall, I am just so grateful to have an accepting family and friends that I can truly be myself around. I couldn’t ask for a better coming out story.
I knew I was gay when I was in 5th/6th grade. A year later I came out to my best friend, the same month I got in to psychiatry because of depression. There they forced me to come out to my mother because “it would help me”, she just said its just a phase and she didn’t believe me, while I sat next to her crying. 2018 I was on my first CSD and my stepsister picked me up. As she saw me she was like “oh but you’re not one of them, right?” and I just started giggling. Thats how I came out to her. 3 Months later my stepsis, stepmom an my dad sit in our garden and my sis told them I wanted to tell them something, which I definitely didn’t because I wasn’t ready yet, I was the whole time like “no I don’t” so my stepmom starts to ask “did you smoke” “hell no” I replied, “did you got a tattoo?” “no” are you a lesbian?” and I instantly started to cry. Thats how I came out to my Papa. One and a half year later on new years eve 2019/2020 I came out to my mom(again) my stepdad, my foster mom and dad, friends of them. Now I am OUT AND PROUD 🙂
Stars have always been present somehow in my life. This may seem like a weird way to start off, but trust me; it’ll make sense. I always would take a moment and pause when getting out of the car at night to look at the stars, even if there were barely any in the sky, I’d try my hardest to point one out. My first and middle names are named after my grandmothers names, which in greek translated to “shining star”. To me, it connected the stars to who I am and my roots. For me to have this weird connection to them, it was only fitting they’d be there in the moment.
It was the day after new years, 2017, and I had only just turned 16 a month prior. I was worried about going into my senior years of high school, who I was as a person and so many other things a 16 year old would be worried about. Turns out I wasn’t the only one, so two of my friends at the time, one of their mothers and I planned a small trip to one of their grandparent’s alpaca farm for three days to ease off some of the stress before we started one of our last years in high school. It was spacious and cozy, the alpacas’ fleece had just been cut a few days before and they all ran around along with the dog.
It was on the second day we were there that the three of us decided to set up a tent outside of the house and camp out. We talked about the most random things. A lot of it was me randomly interrupting conversation because I would mistake the noise of a wild kangaroo for a person, but that’s besides the point. We were all comfortable in our company and relaxed. One of my friends got tired and left the other and I outside the tent as she went to sleep. We continued talking for about everything and nothing till 3:30 in the morning. I don’t leave Sydney much, and when I do it’s usually to other cities;
I had never seen a sky so clear. I felt like I was looking upon galaxies, I’d never seen colour in the sky like I did then.
So, as the conversation naturally flew into the topic I told my friend, “I don’t think I’m straight.”
It was odd that I didn’t feel scared as I thought I was going to, I don’t know if it was the fact my friend was also queer that calmed me or the fact I was looking at a sight I had never seen before but felt so connected to. In that moment, even though I felt like there was still so much of me to figure out, I knew that was my truth and I was finally comfortable and confident to let someone know.
That whole conversation under the stars remains one of my favourites. I’m not as close wth the girl I told anymore but she told me it was one of her favourite conversations as well, which brightens a special place in my heart.
Since then, I’ve come out to all my friends and my sister. Though I still don’t know it all, one thing I know for sure is that when I pause for a moment to look up for a star in the sky- I’ll know even if I can’t see any, they’ll still be shining a light, somehow saying they see me. All of me.
And they see you too.
– Styliana | 19 | Queer | AU
I am bisexual but when I came out of the closet with my parents they didn’t accept it so I had to tell them to “change” but luckily I have people who love me and who support me no matter who I am and encourage me to never stop being who I am.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT RAPE.
I realize when I was four that I liked boys and girls the same way, but when felt so confused when adults would call my boy crush my boyfriend and my girl crush my best friend. Then about 5 years later my sisters came out as gay and that’s when I realize that it was not the norm, she was met with so much hurt, mean comment, and hitting that it shut me up and all the shame arrive. But I didn’t feel like my sister, because I also loved boys and for so long I truly believed that everybody did also love everyone, but were too ashamed to admit it. And then started middle school. My younger self was thrown in a catholic school in the south of France and there I met this girl. Beautiful and funny soul and I fell in love with her, but I didn’t really understand it, dah just 12 years old, and apparently was quite obvious about it. And Gosh this is hard to write, but let me reassure you I’m all good now so no worries. After a few months of hanging out with that girl, I was one day attack in the school bathroom by two 14 years old boys, clearly, there were not weel and past their frustration on me, and they just raped me in the bathroom with the excuse that they were going to cure me, that I was not “straight enough” and their penis was the solution, which clearly it wasn’t. It took me 12 years to be able to overcome that event and openly talk about it. After suffering from PTSD, amnesia, had to re-learn how to read and write after I forgot it because of the trauma. After battling with internalize biphobia, self-harm, depression, and anxiety, Finally, it got better. I moved to Switzerland when I was 16 and was met with so much acceptance and love for the community swiss people and little by little started healing. And then in the summer of 2019 discovered the tv show Legends and Wynonna Earp and was so touched by how the actresses talk about there role and how Emily talked about the importance of positive representation and that were it all truly got better. It was the first time I heard the bisexual word use in a positive way and not as an insult or a sexual joke, which was such a revelation. To have that positive community of Earpers really helped. And I came out last November, at 24, to my family and they all really had progressed in there ideas and were all so supportive and then came out to everyone and being in Switzerland every one was so supportive, which was a really amazing feeling. I feel lucky now to be part of a support group of bi/pan people and participated in a lot of queer events organized in Switzerland. I’m sorry to anyone who felt triggered reading that but this story is actually a beautiful one, because I have now forgiven all of those people and hurt me out of ignorance and feel privilege now to be able to help educate and support the LGBT+ community here in Geneva, gay marriage here is still not allowed so still a lot of work to do. Anyway, all of those traumas were hard and at the same time a blessing in many ways. I am now a sweet vegan, queer, loving woman who does her best to make the world a better, more accepting place for everyone. So bless you all it can always get better and sorry for the writing, not my first language. love you all, melody.
This story will include a lot of binary-ness in order to properly convey my thoughts and feelings, since that’s how I saw the world for most of my life.
It was sometime around 7th grade when I began to realize that I liked girls. Of course, there were signs way before then – always wanting to be the “man” when playing house, always using the pronouns “she/her” when making up love songs, constantly removing the clothes from my sister’s Barbie dolls…and this all happened when I was in the single digits. But around 12 years old was when I became curious about other girls in a way that – looking back now – was more than just friendly. I liked boys, they made good friends since I had more in common with them than with other girls, but something about girls was more alluring to me. I had a curiosity for them that was indescribable. Of course, now that I’m an adult, I know exactly how to describe it…GAY AF.
There was this one girl that I found really attractive…we’ll call her Anne, for the sake of anonymity. Anne was in my class in 7th grade, and I found myself looking at her (AKA, checking her out) quite often. In 8th grade, Anne was in the same P.E. class as me. When changing out in the locker rooms, I always chose the locker close to hers. At the time, I thought it was because I just liked that particular locker…NOPE. Turns out it was just because I liked that particular Anne. I would steal glances at her body, which I’m a little embarrassed to admit now because it seems very stalkerish, but if you’re not creepily stalking your crush at 13 years old, are you really even 13 years old? See, I had no idea it was possible to even be attracted to girls like that, because my parents did an excellent job of shielding me from the “gay lifestyle” (nice try, ‘rents). So, I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed that I was obsessed with her because I wanted to be her, not because I was attracted to her or anything. So I proceeded to carry out the rest of my middle school career with the carefree mindset that I was just like everyone else my age. Ah, the serenity.
Then I went to high school…and 9th grade was a game changer for me. I found out that, plot twist, you actually can be gay! (insert well-known Home Alone Macaulay Culkin picture here)
I started to notice myself paying more attention to (eye humping) girls around me, and I began to question my sexuality. Do I like girls? Am I gay? I like boys too though, right? I mean, I must, because obviously in every single movie and TV show I’ve ever seen, girls like boys…I’m probably bisexual. Yep, that’s it. I’m bisexual. Mystery solved!
…that lasted all of three days after making the dreadful mistake of looking at porn sites with naked men on our home computer while my parents were out of the house. *shudders*
Nope. Definitely not bisexual. I only like girls. 100%.
But then, a thought occurred to me…”can I really say that if I’ve never had a boyfriend before? I don’t think I can…I need a boyfriend!”
A couple months later, after daily bartering and promises to a god that I didn’t believe in that I would do my chores every day in exchange for a boyfriend (as if god somehow cared that my room was kept clean and the dishwasher was emptied regularly), a miracle happened…the very awkward boy in my P.E. class that I had never spoken more than two words to passed me a note that said, verbatim, “I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” And of course, I said ‘yes’. I was beyond excited…until the next day, when the initial excitement of the thought of having a boyfriend had worn off, and I realized that this guy was my boyfriend. Before, I was only thinking about the label ‘boyfriend’, not about what the job actually entailed. I took one look at him and had this sinking feeling in my stomach that something wasn’t right. I had a boyfriend…not a girlfriend, a boyfriend. I had to hold this guy’s bulky hand, and hang out with him outside of school, and converse with him while he looked at me like I was special, and kiss him. And none of that sounded appealing to me. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last very long. And honestly, I’m not even sure if I can call it a relationship since we never held hands, never kissed, and never spoke outside of that P.E. class. In fact, I barely even spoke to him *during* P.E. class. I avoided that boy like the plague, and the only thing that dictated that we were even together was the fact that I had changed my status on Myspace to “in a relationship”. I mean, I had a better connection with my dog – who was a female, ironically.
It wasn’t until I was 15 and nearing the end of 10th grade that I had finally told one of my friends that I liked girls. She was one of those friends that I was kind of close to, but not super close to. I specifically chose her because I knew she would be okay with it, but just in case she wasn’t, I wouldn’t be super heartbroken about losing her as a friend. I texted her (of course) that there was this girl that I liked – not Anne, someone completely different, because teens move fast – and she was super cool with it!
A couple of months later at band camp, I was eating lunch in the dining hall with the guys on the drum line with me, and an attractive girl from another camp walked by, and one of the guys said, “Whoa, that girl is hot!” The rest of the guys at the table verbally agreed, and I naturally nodded my head in silence. He noticed, and with a surprised look asked me, “You think she’s hot?” I paused, doing the whole internal dialogue of do I lie or do I use this moment to come out? I chose the latter, and nodded my head. With an even more surprised look, he asked, “Are you gay?” I nodded my head again. The guys at the table looked around at each other and basically said, “Oh, cool.” Some were surprised, some were not so surprised, but nobody said anything negative. By the end of band camp, pretty much the entire band knew, and I was out!
After that, I decided to change my newly created Facebook profile to say “interested in women”. I set it to where only my friends at school could see, since they already knew, and it felt really freeing.
…turns out it was set to public, and my mom saw it. This was a couple of months after band camp. It was a September day, and she was driving me home from a lesson I had with my percussion teacher. With a small laugh she asked, “Why does your Facebook profile say that you’re interested in women?” She obviously thought that it was a mistake – and a very amusing one at that – and I did the internal dialogue thing again. Am I ready? Do I take the opportunity and just run with it? There’s never going to be a good time, and everyone at school already knows. Might as well just get it over with now. With a very small voice, I said, “Because I am.” She stopped laughing, and the car got really quiet. The amused smile was wiped from her face, and was replaced by a look of something that resembled a mix of pain, disappointment, and confusion. I had never been more terrified in my entire life than I was in that moment.
You see, I come from a very religious, very conservative family. So, to say that she wasn’t okay with it was an understatement. (Author’s note: What the FUCK was I thinking??)
She was quiet the rest of the ten-minute drive home with a frown plastered on her face, obviously trying to figure out what to say to her ‘confused’ daughter, since she had been completely blindsided. And I just sat there looking ahead at the road, trembling with sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat, realizing that I had just made a terrible mistake. I wanted so badly to go back inside my comfortable little closet, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
When we got home, she forced me to tell my dad. My dad has the same personality as me – witty, unassertive, avoids confrontation, wouldn’t hurt a fly, nerdy. Growing up, my mom was the ‘scary’ parent. I wasn’t afraid of what my dad would say in response, because he’s a very calm man, unlike my mom. Not that she’s a man, but she’s not the chillest cube in the tray if you get what I mean.
But as soon as she said I had to tell him, I began to freak out, because it meant that I would have to come out again. Having to unexpectedly come out like that two times in a span of 15 minutes is a lot for a young 16-year-old. Not only that, but I had never actually said the words “I’m gay” or “I like girls” out loud to someone before. I told my friend through text, I nodded my head at band camp, and the only words I had said to my mom were “because I do.” In order to tell my dad, I was going to have to actually tell him that I was gay, which terrified me more than anything in my entire life. I wasn’t ready for that, and yet I was being forced into doing so.
I walked up to my parents’ bedroom where he was lying in bed reading a book, with my mom following closely behind me. She told him that I had something to tell him, and he got up and just looked at me with confusion. I stood there, frozen, unable to get the words out. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“Go ahead, tell him what you told me.” My mom said as she waited impatiently with her arms folded sternly across her chest. I instantly broke down and started crying, and my dad just hugged me. I finally was able to choke out the words “I like girls” through my sobs, and my dad just audibly swallowed in response and proceeded to hug me tighter.
The rest of that day is a bit of a blur, considering that was over 11 years ago, but basically once I had calmed down, my parents told me it wasn’t right. That I was confused, that marriage is between a man and a woman, that two women can’t even have sex together because their “parts don’t fit” (lol…I wish I had drawn them a diagram), blah blah blah. After that, my mom would sit down with me every night and we’d do ‘bible study’ together. This was on top of the Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night church services I had already been forced to attend since I was born. I was never a religious person, and even as a little kid I hated going to church, so you can imagine how awful it was having to read a book I didn’t believe in every single night with my homophobic mother, basically hating myself. This lasted pretty much until I graduated and left for college, two years later.
I never officially came out to my older sister. My parents told her, and she and I never really talked about it because I was too afraid that she would treat me the same way as my mom, but she was respectful. Everyone at school was supportive though. Nobody in my life had a problem with it except for my parents, so I began to gravitate towards my friends and away from my family.
In 12th grade, I had this friend that I was getting really close to. I worked up the courage to tell her that I liked her, and it didn’t go as well as planned. She blocked me on Facebook and never spoke to me again. Whenever she saw me in the hallways at school, she would move to the opposite side and avoid eye contact. That was a bit difficult to get through, seeing as it was the first time I ever told a girl that I liked her. But a few months later I got my first girlfriend, so it was okay. I didn’t need that girl anyways. *holds up ’90s ‘talk to the hand’ gesture* Oh, and I was with my first girlfriend for almost a year and a half (with the first year being long distance), but we weren’t compatible. Honestly, we were both tops, and even more honestly, I would’ve said yes to any girl at that point. But she was cool, and we still talk from time to time. So it’s all good.
When I got to college, I wasn’t shy about my sexual orientation. I got my degree in music education, and the majority of the guys at the music school were gay, so I knew it was a safe space. Nobody had a problem with it, and I was actually pretty popular and had a lot of friends. There were a lot of gay guys, but I was pretty much the only gay female, which made me pretty well-known. So, college life was great! Whenever I would have to go home for breaks, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to go back to that house. I didn’t want to go back to my parents. I wanted to stay in my safe little world with my supportive friends where I could make my own decisions, be who I truly was without feeling ashamed or embarrassed, and wasn’t forced to go to church. My college was only two hours away from ‘home’, but thankfully it was just far enough that I didn’t have to go back often.
Skip to 2020 (two bad relationships later), and both of my parents are still unsupportive. But at least they don’t say anything when I bring my wife to family get-togethers. They’re polite. My sister LOVES my wife, and we often hang out with my sister and her husband. Even though religion is very important to her, she’s way more open-minded than my parents, and is accepting of my sexuality and recognizes my marriage as one that’s equal to hers. After I came out to my parents, I kind of lost that relationship I had with them. I’m not super close with them, since they never truly made me feel loved and accepted. They supported me in every other aspect of my life, but couldn’t fully embrace who I was, since they don’t believe that my sexuality is real but rather just a sin and a man-made thought put into my head by modern society.
I currently only live 30 minutes away from my parents, but only visit them for special occasions. I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, but honestly, at this age I am 100% okay with that. I don&##8217;t rely on them for anything anymore, and I have an amazing wife, wonderful friends who I consider my family, and a supportive sister. I don’t need my parents to accept me in order to feel validated about who I am, and that’s okay.
So, if you’re a young person who is currently in the closet or who has come out and is having an awful experience with it, just know that it truly does get better. I know everyone says that, and it’s probably difficult to believe at this point in your life, but it really is true. I promise.
And if you’re a parent whose kid is struggling with their own gender or sexuality, then my advice to you is to be supportive. Tell them that you love them. And tell them that you support them, even if you don’t. The last thing you want to do is make them feel like who they are is invalid or wrong, because you will lose them. Even if you’re there for them through everything else, if you can’t get on board with something that is an integral part of their very being, then you will lose them.
Thank you for reading my story, and I hope this helps someone out there
Growing up in a household where homosexuality was never discussed, I never realized that I in fact was a lesbian. I started to fantasize about women at a young age (5 y/o), but it was not until high school that it really started to hit me. I realize that I was not flirting with guys who were trying to hook up because I was too distracted by the beautiful girl near me. During the day I was busy with theatre, dealing with my father’s death, shitty math classes that I could barely pass, and other things; however, during the night it was just me and my thoughts. It came to the point where I could not take it anymore and was miserable. I knew that I had to do something right then and there. Of course I would muster up the courage to come out in the early AM while everyone was asleep except for my sister. I decided that the best thing I could do is type out an e-mail and send it to those who I valued opinions from the most, so I did and it was the most terrifying e-mail I have ever sent. Since my sister was still out and about with her boyfriend, I decided I would text her. Her response was almost immediate. I was shocked to see that all she wrote was “it’s about time”. That helped me relax a bit that night, but the nagging thoughts of me losing my best friends and family members made it a restless sleep. I was so worried my female best friends would think I intentionally wanted to share a bed during sleepovers because I wanted to sleep with them. I was terrified to be woken up in the middle of the night to my mum dragging me out of the house by my hair and disowning me. Would the man who promised my dad he would take care of us disown me so I am completely out of a father figure? When morning came I managed to get out of bed and right when I opened my door the universe made sure it was at the same time my mum was walking out of her room. We stood there staring at each other and the look she gave me I have never seen before. Thankfully after what felt like hundreds of hours she asked, “are you sure?”. I said yes and b-lined for the bathroom. Nothing else was said after that until I caught her watching a documentary on homosexuality a few days later. This time the looks were reversed! Thankfully most of my loved ones were accepting. I was set free on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 12:30AM. <3
When did I know?? I had inklings and moments of suspicion that I was not like other beans in my teens. I was never into the boy beans. But my upbringing was very Christian influenced, enveloped in values that made it really hard for me to grow. It took leaving home for university, going to Vancouver, to open my eyes. I met a lot of queer beans and attended ClexaCon it’s first two years. I started consuming a lot of queer media. Eventually, this gay bean accepted herself for who she was at the age of 21. It’s been two years now and I can honestly say nothing else has ever made me happier than loving women and accepting myself for it.
When did I come out? You don’t come out once in your life. You come out over and over and over again. The first person I told was my dad in the car, on the way to lunch. Then gradually, I told my friends- most of them had a hunch anyway. Everyone I’ve told has been seriously loving. But I’ve consciously kept some people in the dark, like my mother, her being the source of the religious influences in my life. Recently, I moved to Europe. I still go to church and only three of my friends know my sexual orientation there. The first, is a bisexual girl who came out to me drunkenly at a bar. Bless her. The second, is an intern at the church who I asked for advice because I had fallen for one of the girls in our community. I specifically asked, was a relationship with her realistic? And the third person, was the aforementioned girl. She was becoming my friend and if we are to talk about love, romantic relationships, and past experiences openly, then I wanted her to know the real me. She is in fact, not queer, I’ve established. That’s okay. There are other rainbow beans out there.
Being out and openly queer in my country in Europe is very much allowed, but not common, I’ve learned. I’m going to keep my orientation to myself from now on. I fear I’m not strong enough to take on the social obstacles that I might have to face, should my orientation be widely known in my social circles. That’s okay for now. My hope is that… I can live openly one day because I’m not good at pretending to be something I’m not. People like Dom inspire me, of course. I know, in turn, I’ve inspired others as well. If I can keep that going… this nice cycle of receiving and giving, I have a lot of hope that I can get through anything life will throw at me for being “different”.
– a lezbean