How to Discover Your LGBTQ Identity and Come Out to Family
In one mental health crisis or less
I’ve often moderated online communities targeted towards LGBTQ youth in my spare time. Ya know, what else is a bored, quarantined teen supposed to do? Go outside and be productive? What’s that? Anyways, in this capacity I’m often asked for advice on how to come out to your family. People rightly recognize that there is so much more to coming out than just revealing the information — so much more you have to be prepared for.
Coming out is difficult because the consequences of revealing that information can mean your livelihood and health. Too many people are rejected for their LGBTQ identities. Even if family don’t deny their basic needs, they often judge their children as second-class offspring, and the mental health consequences of this are staggering. Many youth who are contemplating coming out rightly know to be prepared for the worst.
If you’re reading this, there’s a chance you are thinking about coming out, or know somebody who does. So without further ado, I figured I’d share how I came to accept my LGBTQ identity, how I shared this identity with my family as I became more open, and my thoughts on this whole process.
My name is Grey Crawford. It’s not my given name, but it’s my real one. I’m bisexual and non binary. This is my story.
Background:
I think my first exposure to the LGBTQ community was in early seventh grade. I had my first few crushes, on both sexes. I had never felt connected to my masculinity, and most of my friends were of the more feminine variety. I hadn’t thought much about either of these things until my friend told the class he was transgender. With this single, ten minute conversation, many things changed in my life.
I pretty quickly determined I was most probably bisexual, and out of fear of being discovered or treated unfairly, I decided to keep that to myself. I turned to suppression in eighth through tenth grade, which was certainly not healthy. I was awful to people I knew were gay or trans, despite knowing that I may be one or both of those as well. This period of repressing my emotions is not one that I am proud of, to this day.
It was really when the pandemic hit that I most seriously began questioning my gender identity. I don’t remember exactly what caused it, but I do remember having a moment of realization over summer break. I decided to sit on it this for a while, so as not to make any premature life changes during a period of chaos, but the longer I let my emotions remain unaddressed, the more discontent I became as my dysphoria became more bothersome. It was at this point that I knew I needed to come out.
Step one: Find a supportive friend
Everything changed the day I met my best friend, who is is both gay and trans. They were really the first person I felt comfortable confiding my deepest emotional struggles. They helped me feel okay with myself for the first time. Now that I had somebody to feel comfortable with, talking about my bisexuality, whether that was my crushes, my fears of coming out, or just the in-culture the community had developed, I finally felt at peace. Other than this friend, I wasn’t really open for a while, which was okay because they accepted me regardless of my closeted status. In fact, I’d say their support was immeasurable, and I consider myself insanely fortunate to have it.
With their help, I came out of my shell and made some new friends. I slowly began to become more comfortable with my sexuality. As these events played out, I was slowly acknowledging my gender identity as well, even if I didn’t explore much.
Having a supportive friend is essential to preparing for coming out because you need somebody that you can trust with everything. I wouldn’t recommend that anybody who doesn’t have this step come out to anyone else until you do. Making a friend may take a while, especially a trusted one, but it is okay to take your time in this regard. Coming out isn’t a requirement, so only do it when you are ready, and I believe that you need at least one person to be yourself around before you can move on to the next steps.
Step two: Find a supportive external community
I found unique solace in my friend, who I am very grateful for and am proud to know. I also attribute my eventual satisfaction with my gender identity to the online community I would one day end up moderating. I’ve written at length about the generic value of another community, but I think they are especially important for experiences of self-discovery like this. In this community, I found a place of wholesome self-expression where I could be myself, without judgement, and I could identify a version of myself that I was more comfortable with.
Throughout the course of my self discovery, I experienced an insanely liberating joy in situations where I was able to present myself in a gender neutral manner, especially when people recognized and reciprocated by referring to me neutrally by doing things such as using singular “they” pronouns. I chose my name, Grey, to both honor my chosen name and reflect a more gender neutral self.
I credit the fact that I figured all of this out to my membership of these online communities, but if you prefer something a bit more personal, most schools (at least in the United States) have a Gender-Sexuality Alliance club made up of other LGBTQ youth. You can also try checking out your local LGBT center — many of which offer support groups and social activities. Regardless, with the help of a few of my best friends, both in real life and on this server, I was able to come out to the rest of my friends, who (for the most part) call me Grey and use my pronouns.
Step three: Find a supportive adult figure
As the stress of coming out to my parents magnified, I became terrified because I knew revealing this important part of myself would would reveal in turn that I had been lying to my family that I was compliant with their upbringing. I never believed my dad’s lectures about how homosexuality and transgenderism were morally wrong. I had been faking being “normal” for at least five years entirely out of self defense. Not being able to express myself sucked, but at least I could get by without being the subject of an attempted conversion every weekend.
Coming out was my only hope of obtaining self expression, but I knew it would come at a huge cost. The weeks leading up to my coming out were the darkest days of my life. I was overwhelmed with stress and indecision, and nearly everyone around me noticed.
As it turns out, people care — even if they are a bit hesitant to ask you if they can help. Especially if you are in school, systems are in place to support you as you navigate the immense stresses of self discovery and preparing to come out.
I asked my English teacher, who I trusted greatly and had always strived to create a welcoming environment, for support. I didn’t ask for any specific advice, or even anything in particular at all. But by simply letting her know that I was struggling, I had gone a long way towards feeling safe figuring out my emotions. I now had a room that was my safe space — five days a week.
If you don’t have any supportive teachers, there are many other adults you can ask for help, but it is critical that they are an adult. They have discernment that your youth peers do not have, including the ability to know whether you are safe and the kinds of help you need. Many places have an LGBT center nearby which employs people who are specifically trained to navigate these sorts of stresses. School counselors, some pastors, and even therapists (if you have one) make great guides.
Step four: Keep yourself safe as you make your final preparations
Speaking of therapists, if you have any mental health issues (resulting from coming out-related stress or otherwise), you should take steps to sort out these issues before you come out. You don’t want your mental health to cloud your judgement or put you at risk of harming yourself if everything goes wrong.
As I’m reflecting on this advice, I feel I generally did a good job practicing what I preach, but in hindsight, this was the biggest area where I made mistakes. The week preceding my coming out, I had one of my worst incidences of suicidal thoughts. I had usually relied on my friend to talk me down, but this time they rightly discerned that I was worse off than I had ever been. They gave me a blunt demand — ask for a counselor or drive myself to the hospital. I chose the former, and this set off talks with my parents about mental health. Then they began arranging to get me mental help. Unfortunately, I had let myself become impatient rather than behaving like my normal cautious self.
Step five: Bake at 400° until toasty and warm, and come out!
Everyone’s coming out is a different experience. For some it is easy to predict how it will go, and for others it is much more difficult. If you couldn’t already tell, I knew from the beginning that mine was not going to be easy, which is why following the earlier steps was even more important. I asked for one final hurrah from my entire support system (who were overwhelmingly supportive), and went into my parents’ bedroom for a follow-up conversation that I knew would upend my life.
It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Once I started talking, I wanted nothing more than to stop. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted nothing more than to take them all back. But I could do nothing. Words were as permanent as I feared. All I could do was watch the weight of my words roll over my parents, but I couldn’t even bear to do that.
Since then, my relationship with my father has evolved. It is hard to pretend something doesn’t exist once it is out of the bag, but it is better than having to hide it forever. My coming out was traumatic, and sometimes I wish I hadn’t, but in so many regards, my life since then has been better in every way.
Being open about my gender and sexuality is liberating. I’ve had chances to express myself unlike I’ve ever had before. It may sound silly, but I accomplished my seventh grade’s self by buying a pride flag and sharing a picture with my friends. The day I first put on a dress I could call my own was the happiest day I’ve had in years, if not my entire life. None of this would be possible had I not come out, even though I cannot yet be fully open around my family.
Discovering myself has been a great thing for me overall, but sometimes I wish it weren’t so painful. If you take one thing away from my story, let it be this — your identity shouldn’t be something you have to hide, but doing so should never come at the cost of your safety. I am proud of my self discovery, and I am proud of myself for making it this far. Thank you for reading ❤
- Grey Crawford
