#but “friends” and family friends make snide comments about the lgbtq+ community

[rockets-and-raccoons]

My mum knew when I was really young that I wasnt straight. Not that she consciously recognised it. I was the child she constantly told that love was love. I could love whoever I wanted and that was okay. I was the child that was constantly told by my parents that gays deserved rights and that they would always love me no matter what. I was the child they excitedly told when gay marriage finally became legal.

I grew up repressed with severe internalized homophobia issues. To the point where to this day I still severely struggle with it.

My grandad doesnt believe in gay rights. He thinks it's a phase. That these people are ill. The village I grew up in was very Christian. Being gay was wrong. It was disgusting. Gay people needed serious mental help (ironically half the people my age that grew up there have turned out to be part of the lgbtq+ community).

I went to high school in the neighbouring city. Where everyone around me talked about how disgusting being gay is. The fear of a gay person in the changing rooms was talking about constantly. Gay adoption and marriage was considered wrong. Liking people of the same sex was considered disgusting and uncomfortable.

I was terrified everytime I had to get changed for pe. I was terrified to just look at other girls. And it didnt help that the majority of my friends were boys. I didnt spend much time with girls. The one girl I was good friends with- was suddenly the source of rumours. Everyone at school knew before I did. Talked about if before I accepted it.

She's gay.

I denied it. I didn't believe I was for a second. Did everything I possibly could to prove I wasn't. And yet for my last 2 years at school everyone made jokes about my sexuality. Told me I was gay and in love with my friend. (Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't. I refused to process my emotions properly back then.) They joked about how I was only straight until I was horny. That I was so obviously gay. But it was a joke. A mocking thing that made me feel so horrific that I did awful, horrific things to prove everyone wrong. Things I have to live with, that i hate myself for. Just becaus every time someone suggested I might be gay, all I could think of was 'it's so wrong.' 'Its disgusting' 'its cruel to children to be raised by gay parents' '1 in 5 people are gay, I sure as hell hope it's never going to be me' 'nobody wants to be gay, it's an illness.' 'I cant be around gay people, they make me uncomfortable' 'they'll stare at you in the changing rooms' 'they'll force themselves on you'

I still cant share a bed with another girl without being terrified. I cant be in the same room as another woman getting changed - I havent had to deal with PE in a decade. Havent heard those whispers in a decade.

Every time I become friends with another girl I'm terrified of what will happen when they find out I'm gay. I can't connect with them properly.

And sometimes. Sometimes I just truly hate myself. I hate the fact I find women attractive. That I'd rather spend the rest of my life with a woman rather than a man. Sometimes, often, I still find that disgust curling up in my stomach.

It doesnt matter that I dont live there anymore. That I now live somewhere so open and so easy to accept everyone and anyone. It doesnt matter that I've admitted it to myself, my family, and my friends. That I tell people so easily, I'm gay.

I'm still terrified of what would happen if people from my home found out. I still hear their conversations. Their mocking words. I still feel the effects of their homophobia. And sometimes I still wish I could pretend I was straight.

I was lucky to be born into such an open and accepting family. But by god, I wish I'd been brought up where I live now. I wish I didnt lie in bed hating myself so much at times. I wish I could be at peace with who I am. Rather than wishing I could go back in time and somehow change myself.

I remember telling my mum I was gay, and her not understanding why I was so distraught. Because 'you should know by now I love you no matter what' - and I didnt know how to tell her society, my friends, our community, were all going to despise me. Hate me. Tell me I told you so. I told my dad minutes after he said he wished his daughters were gay bc he hated dealing with the heterosexual drama and boyfriends. He couldn't understand why I was crying, because he wanted gay children. He had told me my whole life he would always love me no matter what. I was free to love whoever I wanted. And I didnt know how to tell him the world made me feel like I was disgusting and wrong and my existence was even worse than that of rapists.

And my grandpa, who I dont get on with, who doesnt really like me, who I was sure hated the gay community (and he has since admitted that if it was years prior he would have disowned me over sexuality) emailed me to tell me he was proud of me, that being gay wasnt wrong and he had been wrong about how he felt about the lgbtq+ community.

My grandad still thinks I'm going through a phase.

My best friend came out to me in tears, telling me he wished he had known we were both struggling, so we could have at least had each other.

When I finally told my other friends. There was no 'I told you so's' suddenly talking about sexuality wasnt a thing. It was a taboo topic nobody wanted to deal with. The girl everyone joked I was in love with, slowly disappeared from my life.

It's funny until it's true. And that's when you really realise the jokes were really, truly jokes. They didnt believe what they were saying. They just enjoyed the rise they got out of you.

And when I think about being a teenager. Despite the fact its ten years long. The only thing I can truly remember is the internal and external homophobia. Everything else feels hazy. The good times. The bad. It's all a fog that's over-taken by the self-loathing that I still carry.

I wish I could tell my teenage self that it gets better.

I wish my parents would believe me when I tell them I dont blame them for living where they did. We couldn't afford to move. They loved me, they love me, and that's what matters.

I wish I hadnt spent so long chanting 'I'm not gay' before bed. Because I knew from the age of 13, and spent the rest of my teen years in denial. Telling myself I was wrong.

But then I see my sister. My sister who is 10 years younger than me. Who had a big sister come out when she was just 8 years old (I came out at 18, yet spent a further 2 years trying to prove I wasnt. I came out too early. But I figured myself out. Accepted myself more, with the help of my family, and my best friend). She has grown up with more progressive media. Has moved to a more progressive place. Hell, her school has an lgbtq+ club. She has one (1) straight friend. She came out as bisexual at 12. But the older shes getting she thinks that her male crushes were caused by heteronormality and she thinks she might be gay. And shes open. Shes proud. Shes unapologetic in who and what she is.

I think about my self hatred. My self-loathing. About my internalised homophobia. I think of every night I spent lying in bed thinking 'One in five people is gay, it's not me. It won't be me. I'm not gay.' And I look at my little, wonderfully, unapologetically herself, little sister. And I think, that every struggle I've ever been through is worth it. If she gets to feel proud of herself because I've come out. Because my parents had to move bc of me. Because I've done everything I can to support her. To love her. To pretend to love myself for who I am in front of her.

Every day I struggle, I think to myself she doesnt have to. I'm one of the last millennials. She's gen z. And shes not my kid. But theres such a large age gap that I feel that generational difference. And I can't have children of my own. And suddenly, I find myself understand what my parents mean when they say that their suffering was worth it whenever they see us gain something out of it. Making things easier for someone you love, for someone so young, it makes it almost feel like it was worth it.

That trauma is going to stay with me. But my coming out too early, is what had my sister questioning her own sexuality. And it happened early enough in her life. She was questioning it before she hit her teens. She told me she knew she liked girls before she hit ten. But she wasnt too sure what that meant. And she wa worried because biphobia in our family is bad. But the we moved away. And she was watching adventure time and steven universe. And I was suddenly openly accepting myself and flirting with girls. And making jokes about my sexuality. And she came out. So young. So proud. And my parents were accepting of her bisexuality (albeit worried about how the rest of the family would react). And I did what I could to support her. Buying badges and flags and taking her to pride. And now shes come out as fully gay and I'm so happy and hoe safe she felt her journey has been. That at 15 she isnt scared to tell her friends (and they're not afraid to tell her). At 15 she might actually have a girlfriend. And shes been to pride. Goes to pride.

And I am so, so proud of her.

I would love to go back in time and tell myself that it's okay to accept who I am. But I cant.

But my sister grew up knowing it was okay to accept who she was. And my coming out helped my best friend accept who he was.

I didnt have any lgbtq+ friends growing up (that I knew about). There were no clubs. No tv shows. My only support was my mum and my dad.

My sister has a club. She has our family. Her friends. Her school (no awful changing room comments. No snide remarks) She has an open and accepting community. I feel so relieved that she'll (hopefully, pls universe, be kind to her) never have the same experiences I did.

[why-am-i-trash]

Being in quarantine with your family is stressful when your still not out. It brings back all this horrible feeling and some times makes me wish that I could be straight. I'm not ashamed that I'm gay, but having to deal with my family it's exhausting. While they are not the most conservative the mindset that they have being Hispanic and catholic doesn't help.

There's the comments about when I'm going to get married or when am I finally going to bring a boyfriend home. It's part of the culture they were raised in to marry young and have kids at my age and me not doing that causes arguments. Also all the little passive comments that are slightly homophobic that they make when they watch a show or movie with a gay character in it.

Also like I'm not out to my family because of multiple reasons. I remember getting yelled at as a small child because I knew too much about the lgbtq community. I remember being terrified and not know why that information was bad or why they made it sound so dirty. I remember someone making a snide comment to my parents that maybe I was a lesbian and that why I never had a boyfriend. I also remember how offended my parents reacted to that comment saying their daughter could never.

God I was so scared of my sexuality growing up. Forcing myself to have crushes on guys and whenever any liked me back freaking out. I remembered how scared I was after going out with my best friend who was a guy and realizing that I was never going have anything more than platonic feelings for him. Being so scared of the fact that I couldn't hide away from my feelings anymore because I knew that I was never going to fit into my parents expectations of me.

It wasn't until I started working at a place in which I surrounded by amazing women some who were lesbians or bi and helped not feel so ashamed anymore. And then I wasn't so alone anymore and I felt free and able to express myself.

However I'm still not out to my parents. I'm not the type of person who gets coward easily. I'm the type of person who will stare you down and fight you if necessary. But the idea of telling my parents just reverts me to 10 year old me not understanding why I'm being yelled at for knowing what bisexuality is.

The only reason that I'm ranting about all this is because of this pandemic. I'm constantly at home with my parents and while I love them and we have all gotten closer as a family it's exhausting to hide this much of who I am.

It's hiding even the smallest hints of a relationship, or even a close friendship because the way we're talking is wayy to friendly to be appropriate. I feel as though we haven't been talking about people stuck inside this exact situation. Of having to hide such a big part of yourself because your stuck at home during this pandemic. Or having your support network be cut off. It's stressful, depressing, and frustrating being in this kind of situation.

[seungyovn]

How and why did you come out?

i slept on this ask, debating if i wanted to answer it or not.

but i’ve had some coffee and time to process and i feel comfortable sharing it. so this is going to be v long and i am going to put it under a read more. 

but just a warning, there is a massive amount of homophobia and transphobia and just terribleness in general. so please take caution before reading.

alright, so i grew up in a typical white chicago suburb. people think illinois is a democratic state but that is literally just because of the city of chicago. if chicago didnt exist, the state would be read. not to mention the fact that my dad is very conservative politically and my mother was raised in the deep red neck south (her family claims the term and are very proud of their terrible colonist slave owner history. gross i know).

my dad never really made homophobic remarks, at least from what i remember. but it was my mother who would always make a snide comment here or there. and when i was a junior/senior in high school, i befriended a v feminine gay man who worked at the ulta in my hometown. and she would make these homophobic remarks and i would be like uhhhh what about anthony? and she would always go “well he is the exception” and ya know that didn’t make me feel great. 

but even before that, i realized when i was 15 that i was attracted to women. i remember standing in study hall and looking at my best friend smiling at me and my heart started to pound in my chest. and i knew immediately what that meant and i was just like oh fuck, no no no this can’t be happening. 

so i suppressed it. i ignored my growing feelings for women and people who didn’t identify as male or female for a very long time. yet online, i was seeking lgbtq communities and friends. i never posted in them. but i read them. i didn’t really understand why i kept being drawn to that side of the internet until very much later. 

so fast forward to when i was in college. i met my first long-term boyfriend and we dated from when i was 18 to 21. our relationship ended for a lot of reasons. but one of the biggest ones was when i realized that i could no longer hide who i was or who i was attracted to. and i was going to india to study abroad so i just wanted a clean break. i wanted to leave the country and to start over when i came back. 

that trip happened in nov/dec. but it took me until feb to start coming out. i remember sitting on the couch at my mom’s house the day after my birthday and writing up a long text message that i sent to three of my closest friends. i was fucking terrified. i was scared. i knew those people were amazing so i didnt have to worry that much, but it was still exhausting. it was one of the most hidden secrets i’ve ever had and i just remember lying to my mom about why i was crying when my friends sent me back messages of love. 

so after those three friends, i slowly started coming out to everyone around me. my friends at school. my classmates. people i trusted. they were all respectful and knew that i wasnt out to my mother and probably never would be. so they respected my privacy and never posted images of me on social media or tagged me in things that could out me. 

fast forward again to june. i was moving out of the dorms at my uni to my first apartment in chicago. i had been lucky enough to have a job that allowed me to afford rent and i was kind of financially stable, but not enough to actually survive. 

i had gone home to get furniture for my apartment and to get some things from my childhood home. my mom took me to dinner and we were sitting in the diner and she started hounding me with questions about my roommates. asking me if they were gay because they both had short hair. and then she looked at me and asked me if i was gay (she would do this when i didnt show interest in dating). 

and normally i was very quick to deny it. and i would always shoot her down. but this time i was just so fucking exhausted and i felt like i was backed into a corner. so for the first time i couldnt answer her right away. i stuttered. and i dont really remember what exactly i said, but my mother flipped out. she ordered our food to go. stormed out of the diner. and lost her shit on me in the car. 

i stayed the night because at this point i was literally trapped. and she kept going back and forth with apologizing and verbally abusing me. saying how i just want to fit in with my friends. and that i just want my friends to think i am cool and all this other bullshit. 

so i finally get back to my apartment and its ironically chicago pride weekend. so i spend the weekend going to dyke march, parties, going to the parade. surrounding myself with the love and support of my friends. i didnt know at the time but my mother had found my tumblr, my instagram and other forms of social media and had made profiles to stalk me and keep track of me. 

and when she saw i was going to pride she decided that she would out me to everyone. she sent mass emails. texts. facebook statuses. she did everything in her power to humiliate me. all at the same time sending me horrible text messages and e-mails about how she wishes her brain cysts had killed her. how she would rather have cancer than have me as her child. she wished that i got aids from the “orgies” i would be having (i had had one sexual partner at the time). she went after my friends who werent cis. calling them perverts and insane. and that they had all brainwashed me into being this way.

and i was a fucking mess. i cut off all communication. she cut me off financially. my life was in fucking pieces. 

but i had an amazing support system. i had friends that loved me. and helped me. took care of me when i could barely take care of myself. i got to work and couldnt stop fucking sobbing and my manager pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong and i told him. and he just hugged me in the back for like 10 minutes. and told me it was going to be okay. and sent me home to rest.

and if it wasnt for them, i know i wouldnt have survived it. i eventually cut off all contact with my mom and the last time i saw her in person was 2 years later when i went home for a night to get the rest of my stuff.

my dad and i have had a difficult relationship for a lot of reasons, but he and i have been slowly mending our relationship. and he has never said anything to my face about not approving of how i love. my step mom is openly supportive and her nephew is gay and loves him to pieces. so at least i have that to hold onto. 

but yeah, my coming out process wasnt fun. a lot of it was taken away from me. but i will spare some of those details. 

this is really long so if you read this whole thing, damn.

[still-figuring-me-out]

Realizing you’re gay when you live in a homophobic country

I’m 27 and I am a LGBTQ+ ally...........or so I thought. Turns out I’m just gay, go figure. My first thoughts upon finally accepting myself for who I am were “huh well that explains a lot” followed quickly by “well fuck”. I was happy and relieved because I finally felt like I was starting to get to know me. I finally realized why I was never comfortable before, during or after sex and why I always, ALWAYS need to immediately separate myself physically, emotionally and mentally from the man that now knows me intimately. Finally I understood why though I’m an affectionate and demonstrative person when it comes to children, my friends and my family, the very thought of any form of display of affection between me and any male that I didn’t share a strictly platonic relationship with made me decidedly uncomfortable. It explains why I have never been in love and why the thought of tying my life to any man’s wasn’t even in the realm of possibility for me.

The ‘well fuck” came when I realized my entire life was about to change. Now I have family and friends to tell. I have to wonder which friends will no longer accept my calls and which family members are going to let me know I’m bound for hell. Suddenly I’m avoiding the friend who has told me that he’s interested in a relationship because I have no idea how to tell him “welp bro you’re shit outta luck cause you’re the wrong gender”. Now I’m more careful of the jokes I tell and the conversations I partake in for fear of outing myself. And this left me wondering why. Why am I suddenly apprehensive about something I’ve always supported in others? The short answer is pride. I know that there are going to be those who are going to say “I knew it”. I know this because they’ve spent months if not years making their snide comments and questioning my sexuality when I was too confused to question it myself. I know they’re there waiting and a part of me doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction, as immature and childish as that may sound. The other part of the answer is I live in a fucking homophobic country. Now don’t get me wrong I love my country and am fully aware I live on an island paradise. The people are warm and friendly and willing to lend a hand and for the most part mind their own business. Except when another person’s sexuality comes into play. Suddenly everybody has an opinion and most of it isn’t nice. Now my generation is far more accepting and open minded but there are still those who think they have the right to put their hands on anyone “different”. And while the police force will give a half-hearted attempt to investigate an attack on the LGBTQ+ community after the fact (and only if it becomes international news) there are no laws in place to protect queer people before an attack.

So here I am apart of a community and feeling like I’m the only occupant of an island adrift from those I hold dear. While my two best friends (the only people I came out to) are amazing and supportive, I feel alone. Who do I ask the barrage of questions suddenly circling my brain at every waking moment? Where on my island paradise do I find my paradise? Why now after all this time? Suddenly there’s a boulder on my chest as I realize that in order for me to safely be me I’ll have to leave my home and all its comforts. Somehow my home, the place that molded and shaped the woman I am doesn’t feel like home. And it’s so fucking unfair it hurts. Why should I have to go thousands of miles away just to be me? Nothing about me has changed, nothing except the fact that I finally realize that I am capable of love I’ve just been looking for it in all the wrong places. But here I am scared to be myself. For the first time in a long time I feel almost broken, something I promised myself I’d never feel again. Here I am finally figuring me out and breaking my own heart in the process. So what do I do now?