#Coming Out Story

[deadeyedfae]

Okay irregular upload becuase I'm not sure what to do with this: at the moment this is untitled (feel free to suggest some names!) and it's almost a proof of concept?

So the idea behind this is to tell a story about that uncertainty you feel when you know something isn't right but you aren't ready to say you are trans even to yourself! The chacter is purposefully ambiguous and they will be throughout the story as I want this to be something every kind of trans person can relate to! It's also going to be set to the album The Black Parade by MCR!

FUN FACT! the colour pallet is actually all picked from the album cover itself! The final comic will have this lineless style and be in these colours but the format might change a little, I don't know what do y'all think?

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the always amazing @rogerzsteven (new fic drop!) @ebdaydreamer @bidisasterbuckdiaz (new fic drop!) @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @daffi-990 and @tizniz (new fic drop!) Thank you all so much and go check out their works!

Doing this on my lunch break, so dropping this snippet from NFL Buck real quick! Hope ya'll enjoy! All things NFL Buck.

It’s their second date after getting back together, after Eddie had attended his first session of therapy and his mind had been whirling, stuck on one particular question. It took him until the main course was served to finally ask, “When did you know?” Evan pulls his hungry gaze from his steaming plate of lasagna to look at Eddie in confusion, “Um, I told you about this place and their lasagna like a week ago and if I recall you-“ “No, not when you knew what you wanted for dinner. Jesus Christ, we really need to take a closer look at your meal plan with how often good food is on your mind.” Eddie snarks. Buck shrugs, unaffected by Eddie’s bitchy remark, “Well now you know the way to my heart.” Then winks. Flustered at his boyfriend’s shameless flirting, Eddie sputtered and flushed.  “You-Evan-you are just-“ The college quarterback chuckled and reached across the table to take Eddie’s hand, “God you are so easy to rile up, its adorable.” He gives his hand a squeeze three times and ducks his head to meet Eddie’s dropped gaze, “Just tell me what you meant. When did I know what?” Eddie sucks in a breath then pushes it out and puts his entire focus on Evan, “When did you know you were bi-sexual?” His boyfriend’s eyes go slightly wide, but he doesn’t look away and the grip on Eddie’s hand tightens, “What-um, what brought this on?” He asks. “Therapy.” Eddie responded, dropping his voice to a lower volume, “I brought up our date to Frank and he steered the conversation into the whole sexual identity and near the end, he told me I should hear other queer stories and that’ll help give me a better understanding of… well who I am.” “That makes a lot of sense. Seeing and hearing others in the community, helps makes sense of the world and shows that you are not alone.” Evan nods in understanding, “So, it’s not just the when of it all, but how too?” “Yea, yea. But you – you don’t have to tell me any of it. Frank pointed out that no one, not even you, owes me their story. I just… Well, I feel really comfortable and safe with you, and I hope it’s the same with me for you. You know? And I always want to know more about you, and this is a part of it. Also, it’s just so- “ “Hey, hey, hey. Eddie. You’re rambling. Which is my thing.” Buck cuts in, giving Eddie a chance to suck in break in his word spew. The younger man chuckles, “Going give me quite the complex directing all this at me.” “I’m sorry.” Eddie breaths out, gripping Evan’s hand tighter. “No apologies needed. Seriously. I am really honored, because I do feel comfortable and safe with you and I am so fucking ecstatic that you do as well.” ‘I feel like I could give you, my heart.’ Eddie thought but doesn’t voice the words. It’s too soon, he just got Evan back, and he’s just beginning to untangle the mess that was his mind and life. Instead, he says, “Me too.” He eases his grip and begins to play with Buck’s fingers, “So you’ll tell me?”

Getting some backstory of the boys and yes a version of Tommy is a part of it.

Tagging (no pressure): @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @bi-buckrights @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @bi-buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @sunshinediaz @ladydorian05 @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @bibuckbuckley @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @bigfootsmom @911onabc @911-on-abc @smilingbuckley

[acewithapaintbrush]

I wish every closeted aro/ace person, who is constantly being pressured by family to finally get into a relationship, the same experience upon coming out that I've had with my mother:

Since the moment I entered the age where you are supposed to become interested (in my case) in boys, my mother had been a real bloodhound about it. Every boy that crossed my path was a potential boyfriend. 

The older I got, the worse it got. 

Some man asks me if I want to take turns on the equipment in the gym with him? "Ohhh, he was totally flirting with you! Go talk to him!" 

A waiter is nice to me? "Did you see how he looked at you? Wasn't he awfully nice to you? I think he likes you!" 

It never went farther than comments, but those were quickly becoming very annoying, especially since I had known for quite some time by then who I am. 

One day, some years ago, we are watching TV and there is a lot of talk about sexuality and stuff and suddenly I'm like 'Fuck it' and turn to her and ask: "Do you know what asexuality is?" 

"No." 

So I explain it to her. How I don't feel any sexual attraction. How, for the longest time, I didn't even know what sexual attraction was supposed to be like, that I thought it was a fabrication of the media. 

"I'm not interested in sex. Actually, I'm not interested in a relationship at all. That's arosexual. I have no desire for a partner. Having kids would be the worst thing that could happen to me. I'm happy alone and I want to stay alone."

"That's who I am." 

And she sits there and listens to me and I don't even know what I expect. She is a loving and open minded mother, but for years her only goal seemed to have been getting me into a relationship. 

So I watch and talk and she sits and listens and at the end of it she is like:

"Okay." 

"Okay?" 

"Yeah, I get it. I mean I always wanted family and kids. But that's me. I can totally understand not wanting any of that."

And while I'm still sitting there, not exactly shocked, but definitely pleasantly surprised by her easy acceptance, she goes on and on. 

"Kids are hard work and they completely change your life and they are expensive. If you don't want any, you definitely shouldn't have any." 

"I can see every day how happy you are with your life the way it is, and I'm really glad. There is nothing worse than wanting a relationship and not finding the right one. But there is also nothing worse than forcing yourself into a relationship just because you don't know how to be alone." 

"Everyone should live the life they want. Isn't it great that you young people can do that now? Not even 50 years ago you had to be married, you couldn't even open a banking account without a husband! But today women don't need a man for anything!"

And the conversation just slowly peters off and it is finally done. From then on, I am known and understood. 

And wouldn't you know it? The matchmaking completely stops. Not one more comment. Not a single one! 

Going from a mother who couldn't ignore even the most vague interaction between me and a man without making a comment, to a mother who never brings anything like that up again, was quite jarring, to say the least. 

But very appreciated. 

Some weeks ago we once again (as we sometimes do) get to talking about this and I'm like "I was actually kinda surprised how well you took it. I expected more of a pushback." 

"What? Why would you think that???" 

And I'm incredulous, because "You spent YEARS throwing every man who so much as looked a little too long at me my way, insisting that every smile and glance meant that they were flirting with me. And you ask me why I thought you would take my complete disinterest in a relationship badly?" 

And my mother sits up straight and grows very serious and says with conviction:  

"I only did that because I couldn't understand how you never noticed the attention you were getting!" 

"Huuh?" 

"Boys and men would flirt with you and you never noticed! Never! And I thought, how can she not notice? It's so obvious! It was driving me crazy!" 

"Let's ignore the part where I still don't think smiling and being nice equals flirting… You're telling me that you were only constantly pointing these things out to me, because you thought I was being an oblivious idiot and you needed to… help me?" 

"Pretty much, yeah." She doesn't even sound sorry. "How was I supposed to know that you actually weren't interested at all? I just thought you were being dumb and not picking up on some veeeeery obvious signs. Of course I had to help my little dummy." 

So, to make my long story short: Her comments were never meant to pressure me into a relationship because she thought that's the only way to live your life. She simply thought her daughter was an oblivious idiot. 

I wish you all parents like my mother. Whose weird matchmaking is just an expression of their belief that you are hopelessly unaware of social and romantic cues and that you idiot need all the help you can get, but who, upon learning the truth, will accept you for who you are and will be proud of the person you are. 

[itgetsbetterproject]

🏳️‍⚧️ OBSESSED W THIS??? 🏳️‍⚧️

NCLR, the National Center for Lesbian Rights, just put this vid out and it is incredibly important.

"A parent's love has the power to change the world. Find out the facts and how you can protect access to trans healthcare at healthcareiscaring.org. #HealthcareIsCaring"

[sapphicflorae]

For anyone who’s had a traumatic and emotionally abusive coming out,

I think the worst part for me were the normal days.

It’s almost easier to endure the screaming and fighting than to live in the silence. The days where your family just doesn’t talk to you. You can see the disappointment and quiet rage, but they won’t speak.

Then even worse than that I think are the GOOD days. The days where it’s perfect and you’re even cracking jokes and laughing every once in a while and it makes you wonder if all the suffering before was just a crazy dream, and you didn’t lay up late at night in your bed in tears.

Sometimes the initial coming out isn’t the worst part but it’s the life afterwards.

[piles-of-numbers]

hi, I wrote / doodled my aroace journey for pride

id below the keep reading

ID: A series of 10 images featuring a handwritten story and doodles along the way. They read as follows:

Growing up, I believed my life would follow a certain path. (Doodle: footpath with grass around it). It was the path of all my favorite books, shows, movies, etc. Doodle of a row of five triangular flags along a path. The first is labeled "meet a guy," the second is labeled "we develop some witty banter," the third is labeled "He confesses his love for me," the fourth is labeled "???", and the fifth and final one is labeled "Profit."

That path was in my mind during most interactions with my guy friends. Doodle of a stick figure posed with hand on face, considering another stick figure. Next to the stick figure is a list: nice (check), funny (check), smart (check), likes me??. These candidates became my crushes. I waited for a confession. Sometimes, my friends would suggest I take initiative. Doodle of the same stick figure in a thoughtful pose, along with two more stick figures. One says "You should ask him out!" The other says "Yeah!". But something about the idea felt off.

I told myself I wanted to focus on school instead. (Doodle of a paper with an A on it, two books titled Math and Biology. In truth, the idea of dating didn't really excite me. I thought that there was nothing wrong with being single. Thought it wouldn't be the end of the world if I just kept to myself. But all those stories taught me about what happened to those kinds of sentiments. Doodle of a stick figure, hands on stick hips, saying "I'm better off alone!". Below that is words written in the Spongebob timeskip card, "Two Days Later....". Then there are two stick figures holding hands and looking at each other, saying "I'm only complete now that I've found you."

So, being the star student I was, I decided that I was just staving off the inevitable and decided to skip to that part where I found someone I liked. My sophomore year, the stars seemed to align: I turned 16, the age of most teenage protagonists, I heard through a friend that a guy would have asked be to Jr. Prom if I hadn't already expressed I was busy that day, and said guy got me a small gift for my birthday. So, with encouragement from my friends, I decided to strongly hint (but not outright say) that I liked him. And so, a week after my 16th birthday, he asked me out, to which I responded with a super confident "sure?"

We went on two dates before I ended it. He didn't do anything wrong, but something on my end felt wrong. I wouldn't say that I was repulsed, that seems to strong of a word. But the situation seemed forced. I decided I must not be mature enough, that I would date when I got to college. Towards the end of high school, I discovered the actual definition of asexuality. A doodle of the stick figure wondering Wait... sexual attraction? What is that? That's real? Cue about 3.5 years of questioning: how to prove a negative? maybe I am just anxious? No "right person" yet? I don't hate the idea of sex? Other people are exaggerating?

Fun thing about the anxiety question, I started taking anxiety medication during my last semester of college. With my mind a little more ordered, it all became clearer: I'm ace. The stick figure now waves an ace flag. With that sorted out, I was ready to move along in life when... the stick figure is handed a paper by a little brain and asks "oh? what is this?" The happy little brain smiles as the paper reveals the words HAVE I FELT ROMANTIC ATTRACTION???* The asterisk leads to the smaller note "also gender???"

Of course I had. Right? There was the aforementioned guy in high school, and in early college I thought about pursuing two guys. But I realized something: I always thought I had to like somebody. The butterflies I had in high school were less about the guy, and more... Doodle of two butterflies having a conversation. "Omg he likes us" "Mission accomplished" "Wait now we have to go on a date." "Ahhhh? what do we even do?"

What even is romance? I don't know. It's different for each person. Like a lot of people, I crave a connection founded on trust, shared interests, inside jokes, etc. Doodle of two stick figures, there are squiggly lines between them, a connection. But I think something about that connection, maybe its very essence, is just different. Two stick figures with different squiggly lines between them. I remembered thing how I've always wanted to skip the whole "head over heels" part of the relationship, and go right to being an old married couple. So, I'm aro. At first, I had a mini crisis. Doodle of the stick figuring sitting on the floor with tears, holding the aro flag. A sad brain pats the stick figure in support.

But that crisis ended when I stopped treating this revelation as a path being blocked... Doodle of a path leading to an archway, the archway is boarded off.... and more like a bunch of new paths I hadn't really considered opening up. Doodle of the archway path no longer blocked off, surrounded by a bunch of other archways.

Honestly, the first path isn't even gone, it just looks a little different. Doodle of the archway path looking the same as before, but the archway is a rainbow in the colors of the queerplatonic flag: yellow, pink, white, grey, black. The pathway has pebbles of those colors. I'm thankful for all the stories and comics people have shared related to the aroace spectrum. I shudder to think what my life would look like if I hadn't found these words, what paths I may have forced myself to walk. So now, it's my turn. Happy pride 2023, especially to my aros, my aces, aroaces, my aspecs, and to everyone still figuring things out. Doodle of a stick figure holding an ace flag and an aro flag.

End ID.

[darlingillustrations]

I'm Gay

When I was eight years old, I wrote my first poem. I remember the moment the words came to me. I was lying in bed at night, the lines rattling through my brain, startling sleep away. I turned on my pencil-shaped bedside lamp, grabbed my pink diary and huddled up underneath the little roses on my wallpaper to scribble the words down before they were lost to me forever. I re-read them over and over, letting them seep into my mind as I drifted off to sleep, so full of mystery and fascination at this new craft that had opened up to me.

The next day, I showed the poem to my mother. It was a love poem, and the only thing she said was, “Why is this written to a woman?”

I didn’t know.

In high school, I also didn’t know why I enjoyed turning around in psychology class to chat with the girl with the cool beaded purse who sat behind me. I didn’t get it why I was so tongue tied around the girl in college with the mousy brown hair and soft floral skirts. After graduation, I still didn’t understand why the scrawny girl with facial piercing who I worked with at the coffeeshop held such a deep place in my heart that I’d give anything to make her smile.

The day I nervously confessed to my parents that I no longer wanted to be in the Church of Christ, the religion they’d raised me in, and that I’d been going to an Episcopal church, they laughed in relief.

“We were worried you were going to tell us you were a lesbian,” they said, wiping tears of joy from their eyes.

It never occurred to me that I could be a lesbian because I was attracted to guys. I didn’t realize that bisexuality was a thing. It wasn’t until 2016 that I started to face the truth about myself. After the attack on the Pulse nightclub, I felt deeply and inexplicably unsafe, and after months of soul searching, I came to realize it was because the people who had been attacked, the LGBT men and women, I was part of their community. They were me. I was LGBT.

As part of my journey, I was asked to exhibit my art at the Pierce County AIDS Foundation. I wanted to share something that was representative of the LGBT community, and that’s how my Affectionate Animal series was born. I chose vintage photos as my source images because I loved the nostalgic feeling they evoked. I wanted to offer the feeling that being gay was a normal thing.

The funny thing is: when I painted these first nine couples, I didn’t yet realize my own truth.

Coming out to myself was about self acceptance. When I told Matt, he asked me what this meant for our marriage. I said it meant nothing: instead of choosing him over half the world population, it meant I chose him over all of the world population. But when Matt left me (for other reasons), some of my close friends whom I’d trusted with my secret blamed me for him leaving. “He’s been through a lot,” they said.

I was scared to tell anyone. For a long time I only told people who were gay, and I spent a lot of time online, on tumblr, living an invisible life, coming to terms with what my sexuality meant.

That’s where I met my first girlfriend. She flew cross country to visit me and I flew cross country to visit her. We fell in love with each other and each other’s kids, and I was going to fly out with the girls to spend Christmas with her, until she broke up with me suddenly and then blocked my phone number before ever explaining why everything was ending.

They say your first heartbreak after a divorce is the worst. When you get divorced, there’s too much other stuff in the way that inhibits the grieving process, so when your first heartbreak after divorce hits you, all that pent up grief rears its ugly head and devastates you. In short, that’s what happened to me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept throwing up for weeks. I lashed out at people, then became disgusted with myself for acting like such a monster and fell into a pit of despair. My body felt like knives were stabbing me, raking my arms from the inside out. My chest felt cavernous. I felt beyond gutted. I felt like I was in tatters.

God bless my therapist, because she texted with me through the worst of it, assuring me that this is what grief felt like. I’d tell her I was scared of the depression. She said I was strong enough to weather a little depression. I took comfort in that. Deep down I knew she was right.

I started cleaning my house. It wasn’t much, but a little every day gave me a sense of normalcy. I signed up for the Motivated Moms checklist so that I wouldn’t have to think about what I was supposed to do. I could just do it.

On Friday, my checklist said to spend time on a craft or hobby. I spent more time scratching my head trying to figure out what I was interested in than I did playing my guitar once I finally remembered I liked to sing. On Sunday I was paralyzed by the suggestion to pamper myself. How does someone pamper themselves? I googled it and read dozens of suggestions before I felt inspired by the suggestion to give myself flowers.

I’d always thought that, when I was with my girlfriend for Valentine’s Day, we’d do some sappy romantic thing, and I’d post sappy pictures & let people draw whatever conclusions they wanted to about our relationship. Now that I’m single again, I guess I’m coming out of the closet anyways. I’m not doing it for another person. I’m doing it for myself. Because, at the end of the day, lovers come and go, but there is one person who will love me for my entire life, and that person is me. And it doesn’t take a parent or a husband or a girlfriend to validate my loveliness. I am loved. I am darling. And I am complete, just as I am.

I don’t know why God made me this way, but this is the way I am. I don’t fall in love with people because of what’s in their pants, but because of what’s in their heart. So, in closing, I’d like to share with you the poem I wrote when I was eight years old, long before I knew what the depths of my heartache might bring:

Beauty Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight, Your legs tremble fast, Your voice can sing the wonders, And your ears can hear me laugh, Your nose smells the flowers that I bring to you in prize, Your legs can run freely, And your hands can hold my thighs. But you’re the one in my mind, The wonders that I dream, For you are so beautiful, The wonders of my dreams.

I like to think that, maybe, the woman I’d written it for was, in fact, myself.

[ This essay first appeared on my blog on February 14, 2019, and it is how I came out publicly to my friends, family and the world. I want to repost it here to tumblr in the hopes that it might resonate with you. ]

[starchilddante]

I'm re-reading some of my old work from 2020 and 2021 and like

I was so gay

I was super, duper gay (and ace too, but like, extremely gay)

HOW DID I NOT KNOW HOW COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY LESBIAN I AM

All the stories about a girl and guy getting together go through this whole freakin period of the girl being like, "I push all the boys that like me away even though I'm lonely, I'm scared to be loved" when she DEADASS loves all over her freakin girlfriends tho bro

there is deadass a scene where the main girl (who was supposed to be me btw) is talking to some guy that confessed to her and is like, "Even if your brother got down on one knee and proposed to me, I don't know if I'd say yes."

She has this whole debate and why she can't "let people in" but is in fact just super deep in the closet.

Why did it take me until 2023 to figure out my gayness I cannot tell you

[exammole]

Yknow what I want to see? I want to see a coming out story with an openly gay character realising they’re also ace

[s1ck-pupp3t]

THE LADIES LOVE ME.........

But.......................................

How do i tell them......?

*crys a little..*

[lgbtqwriting]

Hi! I'm writing a fanfic and one of the main characters is trans, and I'm wondering if it's okay if I write his coming out scene as a sort of "from now on call me <insert name>". And also another thing: the character's pov I'm writing from is sort of set in the future, as in the whole fanfic is just a bunch of memories he remembers, and his friend came out to him a couple years after they met, so he knows his dead name. How should I write those memories before he came out? I don't want to use his birth name and I think it would be confusing if I'd say, for example, "that was the day Matthew told us to call him Matthew from now on". Also, any other tips for writing a trans character would be incredible.

Hope you're having a great day <3

Hey there!

I think having your trans character ask other characters to use his new name is a pretty smooth and efficient way to have him come out.

Here are some other tips for writing trans characters:

Tackling the elephant in the room: deadnames

Writing transmasc nonbinary characters vs. binary trans male characters

Writing transfem characters (pt. 1)

Writing transfem characters (pt. 2)

Writing nonbinary characters - navigating more "obscure" labels (ex. galactian system)

Writing characters with alternating/multiple sets of pronouns

Navigating your trans character's past

Accurately portraying gender dysphoria + trans self-discovery as a cis writer (pt. 1)

Accurately portraying gender dysphoria + trans self-discovery as a cis writer (pt. 2)

Coming out: keeping it casual

Writing queer identities that you don't share with your characters (as a queer person)

Accidental cissexism and unintentional misgendering from well-intentioned characters

How to seamlessly incorporate trans people and nonbinary genders into your sci-fi/fantasy setting (without stealing ideas from nonwhite cultures looking at you eon: the last dragoneye)

The barebones basics of writing genderfluid characters

[purplepinklize]

I gaylored too close to the sun and accidentally outed myself to my mother.

Things that did not make her realise I was bi:

• wearing rainbow socks

• watching Red White and Royal Blue together

• me literally saying "I had a crush on [woman] for 5 years"

Things that did make her realise I was bi:

• looking at a picture of Josh Kushner while I explained Kaylor lore

[miss-saytr]

I watched you come out to your dad.

Your father is a very grumpy man who sits on the couch after a long day of work and watches football and sitcoms on television. He wears a white tank top that you usually see all white American middle aged dads wear, complete with a bottle of beer in his hand. Not a can guy, a bottle. And if you see him outside any longer than ten minutes, he’ll pull out a cigarette or cigar and smoke it to take some edge off. I haven’t seen him outside for long and not smoke, but that’s just my assumption.

He’s the type of guy that gives you republican middle aged man vibes, someone who’s up top in his company that he does not care much for his employees, even if that’s true or not. You can take one look at his face and think that. And I know assumptions are not the best to make, but every time I hear a story about him, it’s usually short, but in the end it gives me those vibes of him as a man. He hates the younger generation, he says crap you hear on television, and he cusses under his breath when someone screws up. He’s just not a very pleasant man to think of and I don’t enjoy thinking about him or knowing he’s going to be at the next outing.

I almost forgot this was supposed to be about you coming out to him. I’ll get to the point.

Your friend, no, acquaintance mentioned it when he was in the room and you had no other choice but to explain yourself to him. It was really shitty of him to expose you like that but that’s a rant I’ll get to another day. The fulcrum of the thing you hid for a years had finally been opened like a lid on a kettle for him to look inside and see you were his lesbian daughter. And you had this crack in your voice that altered your accent to make you squeak like a rodent that was caught by a cat. You talked like you were about to cry but you pushed out anger more forward in a way that you didn’t want to make yourself look more vulnerable than you already were. Now you were the cat raising its hair.

I was kind of ready to just walk you to your bedroom so you could cry, but to my surprise I saw a look on his face I never thought I’d see in a grumpy, cigarette-needing man.

He had this innocent expression on his face as if he was looking at a kitten who had hurt itself. The way he reached his hands out were gentle, and the wrap around his daughter with his hairy arms felt warm just by looking at it. “No, I would never stop loving you! That’s who you are!” And I saw him lift you up in the air and spin you around as you stopped sniffling and started laughing. He was so accepting of you, and the people-your-age crowd watching all chanted “awww” including me, because it was so sweet that he was so gentle for his vulnerable daughter.

A little bit of the aftermath happened when he put you down and you didn’t want to let go. I laughed to myself and made a joke, “I wish my dad loved me like that,” and thought nothing of it. So the outing ended and I went home and I went to bed.

“I wish my dad loved me like that.”

I was thinking of texting you but I didn’t because I was distracted by the show I currently really like. So I forgot about it and watched it. So when it ended and I turned my phone off, I remembered what I said.

“I wish my dad loved me like that.”

I kind of feel guilty for making that joke because my dad does love me, but I know where it comes from. What I meant to say was,

“I wish that would happen when or if I come out to my dad.”

I don’t think he’d wrap his arms around me. I don’t think he’d lift me in the air and spin me. I don’t think his masculine voice would change to reassure me during a vulnerable moment of my life.

Your dad is pretty cool for doing all that, though. I’m proud of you.

[sapphicflorae]

The most iconic part of my coming out (it went terribly by the way) was that my mom was pissed at her spare child (my best friend)for not telling HER that I was gay

[electricguitarhasmyheart]

kinda came out at school on friday?

#1:

kinda popular kid in our grade. very talkative: are you a lesbian?

me: no

kinda popular kid: do you like both or something?

me: uhh yeah

kp: oh so you like the coke and the pepsi [in reference to the "sexualities as soda" video]

me: ...yup

kp has been known to say some homophobic shit so it didn't go as poorly as i thought it would go

#2:

the attempted class clown (also very talkative): are you actually gay?

me: yeah. i swing both ways though.

attemped class clown: but you- but you don't look gay...

me: OH I'M SORRY LET ME JUST PULL THE RAINBOWS OUT OF MY POCKETS

random kid who was walking by: WAIT [my name] YOU'RE GAY??? DOES THAT MEAN YOU LIKE [insert my best friend's name]?????

me: no-