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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SBU chapter.

Picture me, twelve years old, sitting in my middle/high school library and I hear one of my close friends say “Yeah, I’m bi. I’ve been talking to this girl for the past couple weeks.” Something about that resonated enough with me that I echoed, “I’m bi, too!” Except, I wasn’t sure that I was.

Thinking about it now, I think I knew that I liked women before I knew that I liked women. The most distinctive moment of this was on my first day of sixth grade when we had two new students coming into my class on the first day of school. I saw the boy first and thought that he had pretty hair (yes, I thought he was pretty, not handsome). Then, I saw the girl. She had wavy, blonde hair, and I was awestruck. Something pinged in my brain, but I couldn’t yet identify it.

I can name dozens of times where I felt like the girls who were only interested in boys were so annoying. I simply couldn’t grasp why my friends would cry over boys they were snapping at the time and why they thought their value was based on how fast of a response they got.

Something about growing up in a small town that tends to consider issues of sexuality a don’t-ask-don’t-tell conversation makes you question everything your head is telling you.

So, yes, I did come out in seventh grade, but it didn’t mean anything to anyone. There was still hope for me to date a boy, so no one was worried, yet. There was an undertone that I could turn out “normal” and we could just forget that I ever identified as queer. But, luckily, that’s just simply not how it works.

In my freshman year of high school, my childhood best friend started dating a senior who was an out lesbian. This friend and I had a complicated friendship already, but this reveal frustrated me. It felt like the senior was stealing my person. This possessiveness is very complicated, but to summarize it, that’s when I knew that I had feelings for her. She was my best friend, so why didn’t she want to date me? I was resentful toward both my friend and her girlfriend.

At the end of my freshman year of high school, two of my closest friends started dating. I yearned for something as special as their friendship-turned-romance.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t out to any adults at this time, and I was TERRIFIED that if I even suggested that I was interested in a girl that I would be banished from my house and I would lose the people I loved the most. Of course, I know now that wouldn’t have been the truth.

I was out at school but very closeted at home. I read many books about LGBTQIA+ people in hopes that I’d find someone, anyone, who had a similar experience to me. I prayed that I would find a safe space where I could be my most authentic self. I prayed that I might realize I actually love men romantically and that I could live a happily ever after. I also prayed that I would find a label that fit me.

I thought about coming out to my mom nearly every day from early high school until my senior year. I wanted to have a set-in-stone answer to what my identity was. I didn’t want to be ridiculed if I changed my mind as I gained new perspectives.

It all came crashing down two nights before Buffalo Pride 2023. It was June 1st, and ordinarily, I’d think, “wow, what a perfect time to share one of the most taboo parts of my identity! It’s the first day of pride month and I’ve been waiting for this day for years”, but this night was different. There was a conversation of whether I’d be allowed to go to Pride and whether I’d be safe. My aunt and uncle (shoutout Betsy and Joe!) were planning to take me to my first Pride experience. Unfortunately, I was unable to go because my dad didn’t know why it would have been impactful for me.

I told my mom that I was bi, but it didn’t seem like the right label for me. I couldn’t imagine myself dating a man, but it was a fine temporary answer. Again, I was just learning that it’s okay to change your label!

Before continuing, I’d like to address a few things, I know that I have a lot of privilege. I am a white, cis woman, and I am “straight-passing”. I don’t get harassed by strangers for who I love because most people wouldn’t know that I’m queer at first glance. I am Catholic, and while the Church doesn’t have the best reputation for supporting the LGBTQIA+ community, there are MANY queer Catholics! People who don’t know this fact, or like to ignore it, would also contribute it to my passing privilege. The only thing that really identifies me as queer is my septum ring (which is not a universal thing but definitely could tip people off) and my own words of identifying myself.

I still don’t necessarily have a label that’s perfect for me, but I feel incredibly affirmed when someone calls me queer, lesbian, or gay. I tend to tell people I’m gay because it seems to startle people less than saying lesbian, but all I mean is that I love women and I know that for a fact.

On this national coming out day, make sure you celebrate your accomplishments, whether you’re out or not. Even if you don’t identify with this community and you’ve taken on an ally role, you’re doing more good than you can imagine. Having a support system who doesn’t invalidate you or make you feel less than can truly save someone’s life. Tell your LGBTQIA+ friends how much they matter to you. When someone comes out to you, base your reaction on your relationship with the person. Nine times out of ten, knowing that you have someone on your side is the best feeling, especially when you have been grappling with this for years.

Some advice that I would give to people who are not out yet is, do it on your own schedule. No one should have to feel rushed, nor do they owe it to anyone to tell them sooner than later. Something I struggled with after the passing of my grandma was that I never came out to her. It wasn’t intentional, but since I wasn’t out to my own mom yet, I didn’t know if I could tell another family member who might tell my mom.

It’s okay if your coming out is messy, and it’s perfectly fine if you don’t say everything you want to in the first go. You don’t have to know everything about yourself to talk about why it’s something you want to share. You’re never obligated to talk about your identity before you’re ready, but don’t let uncertainties hold you back. It might take a while to find it, but you deserve to be loved unconditionally!

Alexis Serio is a shadow to the editors of the St. Bonaventure Her Campus chapter. She is gaining the skills to edit and critique her HC sisters’ articles, as well as growing in her own writing abilities. Alexis is looking forward to becoming more involved with HC and refining her skills. Alexis is a sophomore studying Communication, Social Justice & Advocacy and Spanish with a concentration in theology. Aside from Her Campus, Alexis serves as the service and community outreach officer for Jandoli Women in Communication. She also works for the Franciscan Center for Social Concern and Mt. Irenaeus as an assistant and as a communications intern, respectively. In her free time, Alexis enjoys reading and listening to music with friends. She is always open to listening to a new artist, but her current favorite is Noah Kahn. Alexis loves to go on chatty walks and explore new places!