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When I was still a little I always admire girls. But I do fall for guys too. Until the time that I got to have a relationship with a girl. But my family doesn’t know yet about my sexual preferences. Though I am starting to out my self here in Bacolod City which is far from home.
Last year when I watched Wynonna and ever since then I have watched girls and wanted them as muck as I wanted boys but I not out yet as I am still in school and scared of what people think as my friend is out and gets a lot of hate and I am scared
It is only when I look back that things really become clear. For example, it is obvious now why I had a crush on my P.E teacher (but then who didn’t!). But at the time I was just a confused teenager trying to make sense of all that I was feeling. I guess that is the same for everybody when they first become aware of themselves as sexual beings, regardless of their sexuality. I don’t know how old I was, I’m guessing around 15? There was a Lesbian couple living opposite my family home, and I remember asking myself if I was like them, but then thinking that even if I was, I wouldn’t know what to do about it. This was the early 1980s, and things were not socially like they are now.
I left school in 1984 at the age of 17, got a job, and was happy just being me. I had no desire to meet anybody but I was aware that getting a boyfriend was the next thing on the list of things that were expected of me by society. I must add here that no pressure came from my family. So I conformed, and had a couple of boyfriends over the next couple of years. Looking back I actually feel sorry for them, they clearly wanted more than I was willing to give. Subconsciously I would never put myself in a position with them where things could progress physically. To me, they were friends who just happen to be male – end of. That’s why they never stuck around long I’m guessing.
Then in 1987 I started my Nurse training in the NHS. Six months into my course and my path crossed with another student who was to become my first girlfriend. We started out as friends. I knew she was gay, she never hid it. But I still wasn’t out, even to myself. Over time though the penny finally dropped and we got closer and closer. She would go on to say that she was just waiting for me to realise for myself, she apparently knew already.
That was when I started living the double life that will be familiar to a lot of people reading this. Luckily I was living at the hospital in student accommodation. It certainly made it easier, but hiding this part of me from my family didn’t feel right. My girlfriend, even though 7 years older than me, was also not out to her parents, which in a way made it easier for me to take the easy way out and keep my sexuality hidden from everyone but her.
Around the same time, when my world was rapidly changing around me, my sister passed way from Leukaemia. She was 36 years old and had only been ill for a few months before she died. My Father had died a couple years before this, and then for my sister to die….. I don’t know how my Mother and family (I am the youngest of 5 children) got through it, but we did. As for me, I didn’t want to add to the mix by coming out, so I stayed very firmly in. I can’t in all honesty say that had my sister not died I would have come out because I don’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for me to take the easy way out.
Life settled down, and I was happy, but still living a double life. I kind of found it exciting in the beginning, but as I got older, it became tiring. My girlfriend was accepted into my family, as I was into hers, but nothing was ever said. The more time that passed the harder it got to think about coming out. As it turns out, our families had guessed anyway and were happy for us. They were just waiting for us to say something. We didn’t know this at the time however.
In 2000 the unimaginable happened. My Mother passed away. And for me, devastated as I was I knew the time had come, there was no more procrastinating, I had to come out to my brothers and sister. I was 33 years old, and my girlfriend and I had been together for years. Even then, the thing that made my mind up once and for all, was that I wanted my girlfriend to travel in the funeral car with the husband and wives of my siblings. I remember the exact moment. The others were downstairs in my mother’s house and my girlfriend and I were upstairs talking. My sister-in-law then came and joined us. We chatted about other things to start, then I simply said that my girlfriend and I were a couple, and that I wanted her to travel in the family car behind my mother’s coffin.
That was it. I was out. The relief was immense, but mixed with nerves and grief for my mother. All my Sister-in-law said was “Well about damn time” and hugged me, before going back downstairs where she was of course going to tell the others.
A short time later my girlfriend and I also went downstairs. All my family were in the garden, and when I stepped out there to join them I was mobbed. I found myself in the middle of a huge group hug filled with love and reassurance. It was such a surreal time, grief for my mother, together with the relief of coming out and being accepted by my family.
There was only one negative. After the funeral, my sister’s husband came up to me. I had only seen him a couple of times since my sister passed away a few years earlier, and he said something along the lines of “There’s my perverted sister-in-law”. I’m not sure if he was serious or if he thought he was being funny, either way it wasn’t the time or the place, and he was dragged away by one of my brothers and told to go home.
And that is my coming out story.
The relationship I was in then came to an end after just over 17 years together. However, I am now married to an amazing woman, my real soulmate, we’ve been together for 11 years. I sometimes think my family like her more than me.
I am now 53 years old and I only have two regrets in life. The first is that I never allowed my dear Mum to know the real me, because I was scared to come out to her, and the second is that my Wife never met her. Or my Sister. Or my Brother who also died from Leukaemia 14 years ago.
Apart from that, life is wonderful.
Thank you for listening.
I live in a pretty open-minded country (gay marriage has been legalized in 2003), so being gay was something people were not ashamed of when I grew up. But as a kid, and even a teenager, even tho I’d heard of the word gay, I only pictured it as the big homosexual man stereotype, the “girly boy”. I didnt even think about girls being attracted to girls, or anything related to the LGBT community other than the “gay best friend”. I was the masculine girl, and Im pretty sure everybody but me knew I was queer. At 16 I discovered Fifth Harmony and I fell into the camren hole. My body was acting weird whenever Lauren Jauregui was singing, or just looking at my soul with her amazing eyes. Deep inside I knew it, and without even questioning myself, I kinda identified as bisexual. Not with that word, but I just knew I wouldnt just date guys in my life. Two years later I was in college, met my best friend. We talked a lot about sexuality, and she told me she was pansexual. The more we talked, the more I realized the queer part of me was not just a little attraction to Lauren Jauregui, it was important. I realized I’ve had real crushes on girls before. I came out to myself as bisexual (again, but for real this time). Then I dated this guy cause he liked me and I couldnt say no. But I had no feelings at all, not only cause we had nothing in common. I jumped from bi to bi into women af, to okay maybe Im gay, to fuck I dont know lets say Im queer. That summer I came out to my old school friends, and my parents. They were cool with it. They kinda knew already.
Now its two years later, Im a gay mess, I’m fuckin into girls, I still have no idea if Im into guys. I hate the word lesbian, even more in my mother tongue, cause I’ve only heard it from straight dumb perv men. I love the word queer, cause I dont feel the pressure to add an explanation to my sexuality, queer is the global term I needed. But gay fits me too tho, most of the time. I just wish the word queer was well known in the hetero world, cause dammit every single person i’ve came out to asked me what the hell was queer
To all my closeted queer folks in here: dont feel the pressure to label yourself, and please, take your time. I know being closeted hurts, and you will get out of it, but only when youre ready. Love from Belgium, one hell of an ally country.
My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.
My story is a little backwards! I thought I was gay when I was about 13, I had a few crushes at school (I went to an all girls school, so there were many). I didn’t tell anyone until I was in my last year when I started to go out with this girl. She however was uncomfortable dating girls so it was a very secretive relationship.
At a party one night she kissed some guy and I got really upset and ended up kissing one of my friends boyfriend (I know stupid). Anyway that ex-friend then phoned my parents to tell them I was gay and bullied me for saying I was, not fun. Thankfully my parents were supportive, but being a family that don’t talk about relationships I had no idea how they were going to react.
I am so thankful to come from a supportive family, and to have had some supportive friends who helped me through this. It was a traumatic experience for a 17 year old.
Anyway, when I went to uni I feel in love with a guy, which was definitely a shock for someone who thought she was very gay. I had to then come out to all my friends and family again it was pretty funny! I had never really thought of bisexuality as a thing until then!!
Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.
Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.
This is me
I love being happy
I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy
#OutIsTheNewIn
I realized I wasn’t straight in the 8th grade. It was Saturday and I had just woken up. I had seen a dream that I was dating one of my friends who also was a girl. It had been a really nice dream. In it we had done some things like straight couples in my school, e.x kissing in the stairs and walking hand in hand.
Then when I was playing there on my bed it dawned on me, I wasn’t straight. I panicked a little because I didn’t want to be gay or anything else. My parents were(and still are) homophobic, but in few weeks I was completely fine with my sexuality ( even tho I still am questioning if I’m actually just gay and not bisexual).
I “came out” kinda differently then my other friends. When I went to high school I just openly said what I was and stopped hiding it.
Looking back to my primary school years I can remember having feelings towards girls, and crushes on female celebrities at the time, I went through secondary school with a boy who later briefly got engaged too, still suppressing any thoughts of girls, I started my first job at 17 and instantly was attracted to another member of staff who was married, after many months we started having a physical relationship, this was our first same sex relationship and it was like someone had finally released me, we stayed together for 5 years having a secret relationship until she ended it, I was 32 by then, after the initial heart break I started living my life to the full and over the next 17 years embarked on 4 serious relationships, although by this time I was out to all my friends and colleagues, I still hadn’t come out to my family, this was a decision I had made as my parents were elderly and in poor health and I felt telling them would be fir my benefit and probably detrimental to them, so at the age of 49 my dear mother passed away and the following year I met someone and I posted a photo of us on social media to let everyone else know! Although we’re no longer together I credit her for giving the confidence to do it and love being a gay lady out and proud.
My earliest memories of attraction to other females was as early as 3rd grade. I remember this girl, who we shared the same bus ride, the same classroom and our desks were in the same 4 square shape group. She sat diagonal from me. So I could see her from nearly every angle. I remember the teacher standing in the middle of the room, which was directly behind her. I remember trying to pay attention, but getting lost in thought of how her smile and laughter brightened up the room. I remember longing for recess time so we could hang out. We always seemed to be together in everything. Life was so big then. I didn’t know yet, obviously what it meant for me. So I chalked it up to best friends and moved on through life quietly in the shadows of what was societal expectations back then. I was 25 years old when I decided to go to my 1st gay bar. It was out in the sticks, old metal converted barn with a lake, a pool room, dance floor, obviously a bar and bathrooms. It took months for me to actually go in the bar part of the bar. I stayed where the pool tables were and made a friend who worked there and watched from a distance trying to navigate different waters of my life. When I got comfortable, my friend that worked there, took my hand and walked me inside to watch a drag show. WOW was I ever caught up and amazed. I was hooked after that. The lights, the singing, performing. The drag queens were as openly colorful as I felt inside. This week after week helped me come to full terms with my own sexuality. So another friend took me to a small book store downtown, Columbia called The Peace Nook. It was back then a safe haven for anyone who needed to just be. I read books, talked with patrons, the owner. The Peace Nook embraced the power of just being to the very core and to this day, still in the same location, waving it’s rainbow flag and the Peace Nook flag outside of it’s staircase on the street. It still stands for it’s core values. At 30 I met my first serious girlfriend. Fell hopelessly in love. Everything in my world aligned perfectly. But not without some struggles. Then she got sick with cancer 3 years into our relationship. She died in my arms. Needless to say I was broken to the core. I lost myself, traveled the east coast, landed for Florida for 10 years. Made lots of acquaintances. Met someone special that sparked that light that had been dead for so long. We ended up being just good friends, but she helped me bring my colors out again. I have survived cancer that should have killed me, I have had 2 mastectomies, several surgical procedures, through it all…I am better, stronger, more loving, and found my calling. Not only did I go to school for Massage therapy and graduated 2nd in my class. I found myself….again. Through that, I found my own love for life again. I don’t judge, because I have been judged, I don’t preach: I teach, I am strong, because I have been broken to my core. Now I take all of this in my daily life and career working, being a House Manager for individuals with developmental disabilities. I personally prefer to say that my peeps just have different abilities. I help them define and use their skills the best they can. I love so much, but it is no comparison to the love I am given freely everyday of my life. I just hope one day I can be that pure of heart and teach as much as I am taught. I will end on this note. Be a light, be open, be you, above all LOVE.
