Surprisingly, the first time I kissed a girl, I did not know I was a lesbian. In fact, the kiss left me even more confused – I did not know if I had just committed some mortal sin and was going to be cast down to hell. Needless to say, I did not grow up with proper education about sexuality or of the LGBTQI+ community.
I was always taught that I would grow up and have a boyfriend, and eventually, a husband. I never knew I could love anyone, that there were other options than being heterosexual.
The first time I came out to someone, I was fifteen years old. I was confident and comfortable in my sexuality by then and I wanted people to know the real me. I was at school at the time and I turned to my friend and told her “Please don’t look at me differently, but I’m a lesbian.” I waited nervously for her response, but she just hugged me and told me that nothing would change. That experience changed my life; for the first time, a person knew who I really was. I did not have to pretend or hide anymore.
As months passed, I got the courage to come out to the rest of my friends. I was met with different reactions – some hugged me, some told me they also don’t identify as heterosexual, and others screamed. What each reaction had in common, was the love and understanding I felt from each and every one of them. Even though it might have come as a shock to some of them, they did not view me differently or stopped loving me, and it was something I did not expect.
Then, it was time to come out to my parents. I tried to come up with different ideas as to how I could come out to them, such as literally jumping out of the closet screaming ‘I am gay’, but I figured that would send them into shock. So, I went with a more subtle approach; I sat them down in the kitchen and came out to them. They looked at me with blank faces and I was worried for a moment that they were going to be mad at me for being someone different than they excepted.
As days passed, neither of us brought it up, and I thought it was something we were never going to acknowledge again. But then, my mother sat me down for the ‘How did you realise you’re gay’ talk, and I had to reply that even from a young age, I found girls attractive, I just did not know how to describe the feelings I was feeling.
I am nineteen years old now and what I’ve learned over these four years is how good it feels to live life not hiding anymore. I can be who I want to be, love who I want to love, and most importantly, feel happy and comfortable in my own sexuality.
So, for all of you who have made it this far of the article, I encourage you to accept yourself as you are. Unfortunately, not everyone had such a smooth-sailing coming out story like mine yet it shouldn’t stop you from being happy in your own body and identity. No one should be ashamed of something that everyone is beyond of – the ability to love someone unconditionally (that’s enough of my Katy Perry references).