Coming out about your sexuality can be a nerve-racking experience. These five students explore and share the moments they came out to their loved ones.

By Julissa Collado

Senior communication and rhetorical studies and Spanish major

Living in a strict Catholic household run by a single parent, coming out was not easy. When I was 16, I met my first girlfriend and decided to come out as a lesbian two days after our relationship was official.

I sat my Mom down on my bed and told her, ‘Ma, I like girls, and I have a girlfriend.’

To my surprise, she told me she loved me no matter what. A week later, everything changed. For the next two years, my mom would not speak to me. When she did it was to put me down and make me feel invisible. I had no self-value, my grades plummeted and I tried to commit suicide.

What got me through it was my faith in God, my sister, my high school Spanish teacher and my girlfriend. Attending college helped but so did having the courage to confront my mother and tell her I was the same person.

My sexual orientation does not define me; it is a part of me just like my hair and my love for literature. Coming out was a struggle, but I am glad I fought to be me. It’s been five years and now my mom and I talk about my love life as much as we talk about cooking. It’s all good.

 

By Ethan Butler

Freshman musical theater major

I’ve always wanted to donate blood. I am Type O-positive, the universal donor; it was meant to be. My junior year of high school, I signed up for the Central Blood Bank drive. A representative conducting the blood drive reviewed my sexual history form. She looked up at me.

‘I’m sorry, I see here that you have had sex with another man,’ she said. ‘You can’t give blood.’

I was devastated. It seemed unjust that I couldn’t give blood because I was gay. I felt the need to stand up or fight back. At that moment, I felt an overpowering urge to come out to my mom. Though all of my friends knew, my mother was still unaware. If I didn’t tell her then, I would back down later.

Though it wasn’t the best way to handle it, I texted her to tell her I was gay. My mom was less than understanding. Being very religious, she believed that I was committing a grave sin. After a lot of yelling and some therapy, my mom began to come around. I’m not going to say that my mom got over my sexuality easily or that she is completely OK with it, but I know she loves me, and we have never been closer than we are now.

 

By Laura Head

Senior special and inclusive education major

One year ago, I spent days in bed with swollen eyes, too sad to get up and eat or talk to a friend. One year ago, my psychiatrist prescribed me a cocktail of drugs, and my professor asked why I was flunking half my classes. One year ago, I taped the suicide hotline number to my desk. I didn’t want to die, but if this was what life was going to be, I didn’t want to live. One year ago, I came out of the closet.

Growing up, my family told me I was free to marry whomever I loved, boy or girl. I knew people who were gay, and it wasn’t a big deal to me. Still, the discovery of my own sexuality triggered thoughts of denial and shame. (I am embarrassed to admit this. It was OK for other people to be gay, but not for me?) It sent me spiraling into an identity crisis, which manifested through depression and anxiety.

When darkness is your best friend and your possessor, it’s hard to remember that there is more to life and that you will feel that light again.

To anyone struggling with sexuality, an addiction or any other hindrance in life: You will see light again. You will feel joy once more, and when you do it will be that much greater, that much deeper. Happiness is closer than you think.

 

By Sammy Lopez

Senior musical theater major

I had a typical life, but I knew something was off. I sang at my Catholic church every Sunday and performed in all the Christmas pageants. I was known as the performer of my family. Then, I got accepted into the Los Angeles Arts High School — it was perfect. I performed all day, and I was finally in my element.

After a few months, I noticed what was missing: a girl. I tried very hard, but I was uninterested; I was attracted to men. After four years of secret boyfriends and exploration, I was accepted into the drama program at SU. Much of my life changed during my freshman year, and I wanted to include my family in it. But I thought my religion would get in the way.

It was finally time to go back home for Thanksgiving. I took a giant breath and made my decision. It was very dramatic. I told my family right when my mom was serving our Thanksgiving dinner.

I struck my spoon against my glass and announced: ‘When I was growing up, I didn’t like Pocahontas, I liked John Smith.’

After a long moment, my dad pulled out the champagne and made a toast to my courage. I will never forget that day, finally allowing my family into my life.

 

By Kendal Cooper

Senior acting major

I have always been ‘out’ about my bisexuality. Before entering high school all of my peers knew, but I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I waited until I got my first girlfriend so they could take me seriously. It was my freshman year in college when I began my first relationship with a woman. I came out to my mother in a dramatic phone conversation.

‘Mom, I am bisexual.’

Her response was simply, ‘We already knew that, but thank you for ‘officially’ telling me.’

When I told my father, I expected a bigger reaction.

‘Dad, I am bisexual. I’ve known I liked women since I was five years old.’

He responded, ‘Kendal, we have something in common.’

I thought my father was about to tell me he was bisexual, too. Then he said, ‘I have also known that I liked women since I was five years old!’ Turns out it wasn’t a big deal to anyone except me.

Now when I tell people I am bisexual, they ask if I like men or women more, as if needing more information to know how to perceive me.

My response is always, ‘I am 100 percent 50/50.’