Our newest guest writer, Charlie, puts a spin on the Coming Out experience. Another example of how different people can share the same experiences.

Coming out, to many of my friends as well as myself is viewed as a thing of the past. There have been a series of trials and triumphs that people of the Queer community have faced and later prevailed that there should be no need for one to “come out”. Unfortunately for many of us, coming out is not a declaration that is made once or twice. In each one of our settings including but not limited to our schools, churches, homes and wherever else we allow our beings to reside creates a place for us to declare ourselves as “out”.

My coming out story is not one that is neatly packaged with bows and ribbons but rather in newspaper, no bows and the package bursting at the seams. Growing up in between the two boroughs of Harlem and Brooklyn New York, I would overhear the word gay. From lack of anything but the basis of context clues, I concluded that only men could be “gay”. I never knew of anything outside of gay and straight. It wasn’t until around 7^th grade when a female classmate sat on my lap during gym class while confessing she was bi-sexual, did I know any other form sexual identity existed. I had crushes on females since kindergarten where I was always forced to play the role of the baby during playtime. But little did I know, I wasn’t gay because I was not a man loving another man. After further researching my new learned term bi-sexual, I came out in school to my peers as bi-sexual. Although I had researched the definition, I was unprepared for the glares of people who believed that I was nasty for admitting openly that I liked females and males. All I knew was that the girl who sat on my lap and first peaked my interest as to exploring my sexuality, gave me my first lesbian kiss. In the words of Katy Perry “I kissed a girl and I liked it”. Some people accused me of being greedy and curious. Of course I took offense and stood my ground. But due to the pressure I felt to choose whether I preferred men or women more decreased the confidence needed to declare my bisexuality to anyone else. On a more positive note, during this time was when I met my first openly gay man. He was a grade above me but he was open about being feminine, having crushes on male celebrities and only hanging with the girls. He was only the tip of the iceberg of my experience with other folks of the queer community.

In high school I dated a female for the first time. I still identified as bi-sexual because I had yet to actually have sex with another female. At the time, the rumor was that lesbians were women who only liked having sex with other women. During that time, I only had sex with males and physically enjoyed the experience. In the same breath, I would find myself fantasizing about women, during sex with men and any other chance I got. I finally gained the courage to take the leap of faith and had sex with a female which was promptly followed by a phone call to my best friends at the time stating that I was definitely a lesbian. From then on, I continued to have full blown relationships with women, some sexual, others not. But it was a serious blow to the males I dated prior to this statement. I swiftly broke up with the guy I was dating, informed all of my ex’s with confidence and awaited the guilt trips I knew I would receive. Some of them took it lightly, others would use insults and the Bible to convince me that what I had decided was unnatural and against God. It seems today, just as it did back then that it was all in the effort to have sex with me again. With my new found relationship and identity as a lesbian, came the urge to inform my parents of the changes and trials I was facing and exploring. Although it could have been worse, it got pretty bad. My mother felt like I was forcing my new found identity down her throat, using it to embarrass her. Other family members were convinced that God and some “good dick” would “cure” me. A select few peers and others believed I only liked women because they thought that women knew how to treat other women. Most of the popular guys in school ignored me or disliked me. Regardless of the struggle of being a lesbian, another hurdle presented itself when I began to purchase my own attire which so happened to consist of men’s clothing. In the eyes of peers and my family, I was on a path to hell with intentions of being a man. Obviously, I was highly naive in believing that this wouldn’t add fuel to the fire. Fortunately, the storm eased up a bit when I entered college; at least at school.

I entered college identifying as lesbian, dating women who were masculine centered yet uncomfortable as to how to explain being a masculine centered female who dated other masculine centered females. I have always been pretty comfortable being feminine and somewhat unaware as to how masculine I actually was. My search for some understanding and much of my exploration flourished and was nurtured in a Downelink chat room with other women who identified as lesbians. Many did not fit the mold of hetero normative structure within their relationships, others that did, found themselves exiting just as quickly as they entered. The social networking site became my first real insight as to who I was sexually. It provided resources of various plays on gender roles and relationship structures. Stating who the man was in the lesbian relationship became common knowledge to be an extremely nonsensical question. The chat room was the first time I had spoken to transsexual women and men as well as older women who still identified as being dykes. Collectively we identified ourselves as Studs for Studs or S4S. When I say I met these people, I mean that we spoke as well as became highly involved in one another’s lives literally. To most people outside of the chat room, I was weird and “gayer” than usual. In their minds, I was a woman who was portraying a man with other women who did the same.

Throughout college I have learned to release myself from the boxes I have been checked into. The struggles continues with my family as to the “phase” I am still going through. But I love who I love. I pride myself on having that right as well as that option and I use it freely. I enjoy a mix of physical masculinity and emotional femininity, but those vary just as does my own femininity and masculinity. In the end, there is no one and nothing to come out to but yourself.

-Charlene “Charlie” Trotman