The Beginning of Owning My Truth
In eighth grade, I told my best friend at the time that I had to tell her something. Before I could even say it, she looked at me and said, “What, you like girls?”
No duh, me too.
That moment was my quiet entry into honesty. It was not a big speech, not a dramatic scene, just truth spoken aloud. I told a few other friends. Most didn’t care, one freaked out a little. You know, the classic “ew, we slept in the same bed!?” comment. In my usual fashion, I just told her, “Yeah, no shit. Doesn’t mean it was anything weird. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m into all girls.”
It wasn’t some grand parade or rainbow banner moment. I just stopped hiding it from all my homies.
High School and Small Town Silence
I grew up in small-ass Martins Ferry, Ohio. A tiny town, tight gossip circles, everyone knowing everyone’s business. I graduated in 2010, and there were maybe three out lesbians in my class. The rest were “straight in public” or “hush-hush about it.”
I wasn’t loud about my sexuality in high school. But the moment I was no longer a student, I made my Facebook and MySpace say “interested in women.” No more hiding, no more pretending. Just existing.
Family Reactions and Reality Checks
My mom’s best friend was a lesbian who came out in the early 1980s, so she didn’t have much to say beyond not wanting it “broadcasted” to my little sisters. They were nine at the time. But my younger cousins told them. It wasn’t like they knew better.
One sister said she didn’t care. The other said “ew,” but she got over it fast enough. Kids echo what they hear. And they learn what we show them.
But there was one adult man, a friend of my mom’s. He was much older than me, always joking that he’d “take me on a date when I turned 18.” Everyone would laugh like it was harmless. I knew it wasn’t.
Sure enough, once I turned 18, he messaged me on Facebook asking me out. I told him, “Dude, I’m with my girlfriend. I’m gay.”
He flipped out, said I “lied” instead of just saying no. But I wasn’t lying. I was telling the truth, my truth. But he just couldn’t handle it.
Looking Back on Coming Out
Back then, coming out wasn’t about attention or pride flags. It was about not lying anymore. It was survival in small-town Ohio. And being honest even if nobody clapped for it.
When I think about National Coming Out Day, I think about that moment in eighth grade. The one where I said, “Yeah, I like girls.” I think about every time after that when I had to say it again. Whether that was to friends, to family, to strangers who thought they had a say in it.
This is Part 1 of my story… the first step in a much longer journey.
Part 2 will come later today. It’s about when I came out again, not as a lesbian.
Because coming out isn’t one moment. It’s a lifetime of moments: each one a little braver, a little louder, a little more you.
Today, on National Coming Out Day, I remember that younger version of me. Who was scared, quiet, and honest anyway. The one who chose quiet truth in small towns where everyone knew your name.
I came out as a lesbian first. I came out as myself second. Both are chapters worth telling. Both matter.
Because every story of coming out whether it’s whispered, shouted, or written down… reminds someone else they’re not alone.
Stay tuned for Part 2: Coming Out as me.
