My Coming Out Story
Hi! My name is Olive, and I became a person I never knew existed.
I grew up in a small town with bigoted parents, but in a much more concealed way than normal. Instead of spewing hate speech, they stuck with concealed jabs or simple omission. Due to this, I had no idea LGBTQ+ people existed; the word “gay” was not even in my vocabulary. This ignorance somehow lasted throughout elementary school and into junior high. I had no idea that the possibility of me, your average, female teenager, liking a girl even existed. But in a way, I am glad my parents decided to never educate me on lgtbq+ people instead of being negative. This exclusion led to my stance being simply ignorant instead of downright hateful. I had absolutely no idea that being gay at this time was considered “wrong.” So, when I laid eyes on my first female crush, I dove in with complete curiosity and hope, not fear.
It took me about five months to look up a word that could articulate my newfound feelings. I am not sure what I thought I would find; I think I expected there to be no existing term at all. However, even if I was not aware of it yet, this moment began my journey into the community. I started watching videos or reading stories like this one, both positive and negative, about everything from relationships to coming out to sex – all of which were completely new to me. I spent long nights wondering where I belonged and discovering my place with my LGBTQ+ peers. After massive amounts of research, I realized I was bisexual, and decided that I needed to begin the long process of telling those around me.
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Coming out to the students in school was, surprisingly, the easy part. It was especially shocking because despite being one of the first to come out, I faced little backlash. I was friends with a variety of people, and people already considered me to be a bit on the eccentric side. I also had thick skin, so I was confident in my abilities to handle the worst. However, the worst never entirely came. I started by telling my close friends, who did not waver in their loyalty to me and our friendship. As with the others, the reaction was mixed. But besides a few comments and the occasional slur in the hallway, I did not face much adversity. However, I knew coming out to my parents would be a much different story.
After much deliberation, I decided to hide my new identity from my parents. I was fully aware of their stances on politics and other social issues, and I thought it would be best to conceal it. After all, it was not like my actions were inherently wrong; I was only sneaking around to see my girlfriend, nothing more nor less. I thought I could get away with it for close to forever, but this was a mistake. Because I attended a small, semi-rural school, some of the upper-level staff reacted negatively to my new identity. My principal at the time ordered my girlfriend and me to stay away from each other, even though the most we ever did at school was hold hands. I was confused as to why I could see straight couples show an abundance of PDA in the hallway, but I was not afforded even a sliver of that luxury. So, of course, we saw each other anyway. This went on for a few months until parent-teacher conferences came along. While I could not tell my parents why my girlfriend at the time (friend, to them) could not see each other, I ranted to them about the fact that we were being separated – and that was my biggest error. When the conferences came along, my parents asked my teacher at the time why I could not see my “friend.” Instead of respecting my obvious decision to not tell my parents (along with previous communication about this secrecy), my teacher told them everything. She robbed me of my ability to come out to my biggest opposition on my own, and chaos ensued afterward.
At this point, I was left practically alone to deal with both the betrayal from my teacher and the wrath of my parents. The reaction I received was shocking in some aspects and relieving in others. My mother did not say much at the time. My dad, however, lost his composure. He took my phone away for a year, forbade me from going anywhere besides school, and went on nightly, hour-long rants for months telling me I was going to die in a hate crime, and then proceed to go straight to hell. This constant battering took a large toll on my mental health. I started to hide everything from my parents, began self-harming, and attempted suicide. Even though most of my struggles were hidden, my mom did notice how sad and broken I seemed. One day, she handed me her phone and walked away. I was confused, so I asked her what she wanted me to fix (she is not necessarily a tech whiz), and she told me to text my girlfriend. After that day, she started secretly driving me to see her, changed her entire political and social views, and adopted her new motto: “live and let live.” It still brings me joy to this day that I have opened at least one person’s mind, and I hope to continue to have this influence in the future. Although my father never changed, and our relationship never recovered, he eventually settled down, and I began my new journey as an outed bisexual. Even though the coming out process technically never ends, the weight is now off of my shoulders, and telling people is actually a pride point for me. When I tell people, I am confident, assertive, and welcome to explain any questions they may have.
If I could give advice to new members of the community about coming out, I would implore them to never lose hope. While the overall experience is slowly beginning to improve, society still has a large amount of progressing to do. With that being said, I have seen worlds of growth in the last few years. When I was in school, a student from the next town over came out as transgender and began petitioning for nonbinary restroom options. At the time, this created a large uproar. Students, and even parents, protested outside of the school, her story made the news, and the online reaction was awful. She lives an amazing, genuine life now, but her journey to get there broke my heart. While people in our community and I tried to help, it was difficult to fight against an entire system of hate and oppression. However, this action allowed for attitudes and behaviors to slowly change. This year, a transgender woman was selected as prom queen for my old high school. When I saw this, my heart almost burst. Seeing the rewards of years and years of fighting provided me with hope for my small town and our society as a whole, and I hope it does for newcomers to the community as well.
I would also suggest a good, solid support system. When I was becoming myself, I had few people to fall back on; both my family and my school turned on me. I hope those coming out now will find people from multiple facets of their life to talk to and confide in. Finally, I would recommend finding confidence on the inside. To those coming out, your identity is valid, and you do not have to try to justify your sexual or gender identity. No one can take that away from you, not even those closest to you. If times ever get too difficult or heartbreaking, please call a hotline or reach out to others in the community, depending on the severity. There will be people to listen and care for you, and your presence on Earth is needed more than you know. Keep fighting, educating, and growing.
Looking back on my bittersweet coming out story, I sometimes wonder how I got through it with only a few scars. While my journey may seem completely miserable, I do not want to make it seem that way. I got to come out to not only the world, but to myself as well. I also learned about an entirely new community, and an accepting and welcoming one at that. Now, I have the privilege of living as my true self, and I can help lead and influence those going through the same situation as I once did. Although the journey almost overcame me, I came out victoriously, and am happier than 13-year-old Olive could ever imagine.
-Olivia Dickey, 19
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