LGBT+ True Coming Out Stories

May 31, 2018

   For years I have struggled to find a way to come out to my parents, my friends, and anyone else who carries some importance in my life. When I began publishing these stories years ago, I had a vision of a better world in mind- one that accepted everyone for what they are and plead guilt for shaming the innocent. When I began publishing these stories, I sought understanding, friendship, and power in a majority I found solace within online. When I began publishing these stories, I desired to lead a movement in the midst of a war I had no true ability to grasp the complex depths of. I longed for the desperate assimilation of a widespread living to demolish the pandemic I believed to be raging over the world. 

   I was hindered by my own ignorance, and as a result, I turned to publishing anonymous coming out stories sent to me by my own peers. I ironically stunted my own growth with my internal darkness, and I hoped to continually find comfort in knowing others could share my pain and obtain the courage I needed to face my biggest fear: coming out.

     It has been years, and these people featured in this anthology have no doubt matured and grown to find their own paths, their own destinies, their own mountains to climb and conquer. I have too, no doubt, but since this is my own coming out story, I need to begin from the start.

      I always knew there was something off about me, but it wasn't wrong, just an incoherent mess of thoughts that I never dared to challenge. I never wished to face my internal whispers of doubt, as I was a happy child that played pretend mythology with his friends on the playground every single day of his primary school years (primary here refers to grades 1-3). I was a happy child without a care in the world besides the inevitable drama that sometimes occurred within my friend group. When conflict arose, it would quickly subside, and I realize now that my own internal drama never relaxed.

    Moving on to fourth and fifth grade was a breeze, and I placed myself in a new group, one with only three occupants including me. They were the best guys any fourth grade kid could befriend- no drama, no fights, just Pokemon and Beyblade battles to the death. It was an intense, loving friendship that sometimes wavered due to an unfair call on the battlefield, but it was memorable nonetheless. We were unstoppable, willing to stand up for each other without a thought, and most importantly, we blended together well. I was one of them.

   I met a girl in fifth grade. She changed my world, my whole perspective on girls and how they function, though, I never did and probably never will fully understand the language of girls, as I have never been one. She accepted me into her arms and led me down a path that I was convinced would be the most rewarding. In sixth grade I began to wear makeup, braid my hair, and wear low cut shirts. I had been told that the boys would enjoy my company if I was pretty, and quite a few of them looked my way. I was confident and so sure I was in the right place both with my physical being and mental state, but I always felt odd.

   I ditched the drama that the girls carried with them on their shoulders in seventh grade, but I stole the makeup and hair for my own journey. I no longer wanted to fit in, as doing so aroused much conflict within my social life, but I had not the courage to stand apart. I was alone and with no friends, and I was unsure how to cope with the itching inside my mind that was quickly breeding. I developed a rather promiscuous mindset and behavior, as I was sure that "becoming a woman" would soothe my psychological struggle, but I would weep ignorant tears when my mental state was only declining. I was diagnosed with depression when I was 12 years old without fully understanding why I was feeling so low.

   When I thought about it, I knew that deep inside I was never the girl society was shaping me to be. I thank God, though I do not believe in Him, that I was under such a pressure from society, as it forced me to open my eyes to understand the big conflict I fought daily; as a young child I could be myself with no judgement, but as a new teenager, I was expected to grow up differently than I had planned when I was still on the playground.