Coming Out Straight Pt. 1

I'm not gay, bi or a lesbian - but I am in a relationship with a woman, as a woman.

For many this makes me a lesbian but the truth is that I met a girl, we talked, we hung out and then she kissed me. And I kissed her back.

I started to spend most of my spare time with her, I'd even drag her along to walk my bat shit crazy dog with me, just so I could see her. Over time this had all developed into something more and I knew that I didn't want anyone else, I wanted only her. Whilst I was on a high and spiraling down the rabbit hole they call love, I was also dealing with my inner straight girl who was questioning how I would tell my friends about this; but more importantly - my family.

Let me tell you this, it wasn't pretty.

When I met C, I lived a comfortable life in my family's humble abode. I had the freedom to come and go as I pleased (in a fancy red sports car), spend my money on holidays and not pay ridiculously priced electricity bills, it was great. What I didn’t see coming was that I would be giving up everything that was easy and comfortable just to be happy.

I had been lying to my family for a while at this point. I lied about who I was with, where I was spending my nights and who was sending me flowers. In their eyes I was in a relationship with a nice young man who I would one day hopefully marry, start a family and live happily ever after with.

So one day it happened, I told them… kinda. My mother was suspicious and suspected that I was lying to her and at this point she had asked me if I was seeing a girl. I denied it, I had to protect the lie I invested in and spent so much time constructing. But she knew better, she knew I was lying to her. By this point I had broken down into a teary, snotty mess and the wall of lies was crumbling down right before my eyes.

At first I had told her she was just a friend who happened to be a lesbian and that I didn't want to introduce her to them as they would judge her based on her appearance and not for the wonderful person that she is, by this point my father had walked into the conversation. That's when the fiery gates to hell opened right up. The swearing, the name calling, the things that one never wishes to hear come out of a parents mouth, all the words that eat you up alive and make you wish that you could crawl into a hole and stay in there until the war was over. I heard it all. But what hurt the most was when I heard my father say that I could forget about him, that I was no longer his daughter. And my mother's response? That I should dig my own grave and die in it. At that point, a piece of me did die, a piece of me that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to resurrect.

I was told to move out by the end of that day, pack my things and not return unless I 'changed back'. Changed back to being straight that is. I had tried to explain to them that I wasn't a lesbian, but I had met someone who finally made me happy and that someone happened to be a woman. And then it hit me, why was I so adamant on them believing that I wasn't a lesbian? Why was I so desperate for them to see me as their straight daughter who was dating a girl? Because all I wanted was for them to not be ashamed of what they had raised and loved for all those years.

I come from a family who moved to Australia in the 2000's. Prior to this they were born and raised into a communist country. Their opinions and views were moulded by the one and only Mother Russia. Anything that wasn't straight and white was unacceptable. To them, I could only parade one of those things now.

You finally found a shoulder to cry on and she found a place to put her two fingers in" - these words hit me right in the gut.

I'll admit that upon entering early adulthood I was a bit of a wild child and my parents had witnessed this and had somewhat grown to accept that I wasn't going to completely follow their rule book. So when it came out that I was dating a girl I had no doubt that it wouldn't be smooth sailing but that we could at least talk it through and they could try to understand. It hadn't gone that way at all. I was exiled from the family, pushed out of my home, denied communication with my younger brother and forced to give up something that meant the world to me - my dog, Max.

I spent the afternoon packing away everything that belonged to me into a car and driving it to C's place. Whilst I was packing, every 30 minutes or so my mother would enter my room, hurl terrible words carelessly thrown together in my direction and leave. "You finally found a shoulder to cry on and she found a place to put her two fingers in" - these words hit me right in the gut.

Who was the man in the relationship? How was it fucking a girl? Who fucked who? Was I not disgusted in myself?

These were just a few of the things that were snickered to me that afternoon and with each another piece of my dignity and soul broke off. I felt dirty, inhumane, like I had committed a crime that was unforgivable - but the only thing I was guilty of was loving a girl.

Coming out as straight but dating a female was one of the most testing and terrifying things I had done. It had left me shattered, heart broken and beaten to the ground. But it also lifted a weight off my shoulders, broken the exhausting chain of lies and let me love without deceit and restrictions.

She may just be the woman I never knew I needed.