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This is my coming home story. I say coming home instead of coming out for a reason. This story is more than just me finally accepting the gayness. This is also about finding home. I know this is not a Bette and Tina story or fiction at all, but please take the time to read it anyway. It is an important story that needs to be told, and it is my hope that it will help someone else out there who is struggling right now.
I grew up in a very small town in Texas, in a Christian home with a close knit family. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everything about everyone else, and didn’t mind sharing it. I used to think it was possible for people to know what I did before I even did it! lol Anyway, it is not the kind of place where you are gay if you know what’s good for you.
I had my first crush on a girl when I was 6 years old. She moved into my little town when we were in 1st grade and I thought she was an angel. Sweet, I know. ;) We grew up together in that small town and I crushed on her all the way through high school. We were the best of friends throughout our childhood until my feelings grew to be too much to hide around 10th grade, so I pushed her away and we became enemies for a long time. I didn’t want her or anyone else to know I liked girls. I didn’t think I would be accepted and I just knew my family would not approve. I tried dating boys and tried hard to fit in the “normal” category. I don’t think at the time I even really knew what that meant. It was tough keeping everything inside. I acquired a lot of coping mechanisms and most proved to be bad ones and did a lot of damage over the years.
When I went off to college I still didn’t really know what to do with all the crazy feelings I was having, and wasn’t in a safe place to explore them either. I know college is supposed to be the time for all of that, but not where I was from, nor where I went to university. So, I continued to stay hidden away in that closet of mine and did my best to play it straight.