COMING OUT STORY - L
I grew up being punished for my mannerisms, my poses, my tomboy behaviour, even though I never had a saying regarding my clothes until I was 18 and could purchase them with my own money, from part time jobs I had. As a teenager, I was not even allowed to wear an ankle bracelet because they would say “you'll look like a lesbian”.
Meanwhile, all the girls were talking about boys, and I automatically felt that fancying a boy was what was expected of me so that I could fit in. Fake it until you make it, and in fact, after a couple of years, at 17 years old, I was finally able to allow a boy to kiss me for the first time in my life. Did I ever manage to block my instincts about that girl?! No, never... And those would strike me at any time, at school, at our friends’ house, during summer holidays when we spent time together, etc. I just locked them all somewhere, somehow...
Then college time came, she was out of my life, and I found relief, believing this wouldn’t happen again. I kept on flirting with a few boys, despite the fact that I would never let them make one single move beyond a boundary I had instinctively created, therefore french kisses would be the farthest they would go. But then again, another girl became one of my best friends, and out of the blue, there was again a very, very blurry line that didn’t allow me to understand my own feelings, why I was feeling like blushing again, and why did my body want to jump on her while she was laying next to me every time we did a sleepover after a night out, during those academic party times. So I just kept on locking those thoughts and instincts away over and over again.
One time, hundreds of kilometres away from home, I met a boy, a sweet loving, shy and very humble guy, no beard, no body hair, smooth baby skin and baby face features. And I felt safe with him, he would not make a move, he would not touch me. So from pen pals, we start visiting each other on weekends, whenever possible, staying at our parents homes, always sleeping in separate rooms as none of them would allow for it to be otherwise. But this boy was different, and respected my boundaries, so I let my guard down, and with that, finally my thoughts and my body instincts stoped drifting towards girls! However... did I download torrents to watch romantic indie movies about two girls?! All the time! Did I ever ask him if he would have a fantasy of a threesome with another girl?! Oops, I did! Did I ever think I could be a lesbian, a bisexual, queer, or any other term?! No, never! But those goosebumps from watching those pirate lesbian movies all by myself, were soooo good! Nonetheless, I never ever processed any feelings, and anyway I'd rarely even read, hear or search for more information about what was going on.
And my broken heart didn’t care about anything at all, so one day we were alone at the office, and she steals a kiss from me, and... I melted like butter in the summer, my lips were numb for hours, I didn't even want to eat or drink anything, so that this feeling would never go away! And there's nothing else I could think about for days. Until one day, a few weeks later, we found the opportunity to let it happen again, but out of the office, so there was plenty of time and privacy to let it all run wild and free, for once, just for once, only! Or so I thought...
My brain finally took the time to stop and think about what was happening, because now I was realising this was not what people would approve, it was not what's expected of me... and what my body was feeling as sooooooo right, but my brain was telling me it was terribly wrong. I started searching online for forums, spaces where people would feel the same way I was feeling, looking for hints, desperately looking for help, so I could understand what was happening to me! And this conflict dragged me into psychotherapy as I was not able to process it all, I was not able to live in my own body, I was feeling claustrophobic as if something beyond this world was locking me in, not allowing me to live what my heart and body were eager and thirsty for.
Two years later, I decided to turn my life upside down, so I changed my career and emigrated, taking the opportunity to start a new life from scratch, in a country where nobody knew me, so I could be free, a reinvented version in a blank page. It took me a total of 5 years of therapy before I could accept myself, and start to work on my coming out. And when I decided to move back home, I promised myself I would not talk myself out of it and book a flight back before telling my family and friends, as I did not and could not keep on living this double life, for which I felt like I was feeling pushed into becoming a compulsive liar. I had to put an end to it so that I could return home in peace. It was not easy, but every time I would tell a friend or a relative about my feelings, and how I was happy since I started living my own true self away from them, a heavy weight was off of my shoulders, and an immense sense of freedom replaced any fear and anxiety I had felt minutes or even hours before telling them.
You can follow L’s journey on Instagram @asduas.portres