out of the closet and into a box
If you would have told me five years ago that in 2024 I would be in a loving long term relationship with one of my best friends … Let’s be honest, I for sure would be stoked out of my MIND but I think there would definitely be a level of shock and disbelief. It’s not that I never had hints of my queerness before, but the love I’ve felt since being with my partner is something I could not have ever imagined. I’ve never felt so cared for or seen or comfortable in a relationship before I started dating Lizzy. That is something I refuse to take for granted and celebrate as often as I can. With all of the joy and excitement of announcing my love to the world, there also came an unexpected underbelly of challenges created solely within my own mind. Coming out of the closet and living my truth somehow sparked an identity crisis.
Although I enjoy the all-encompassing labels of “gay” and “queer” - because sexuality is fluid and truly undefinable - I am undoubtedly in a lesbian relationship with a woman that I want to be with for the rest of my life. And because my coming out coincided with my relationship, I turned to the lesbian community for guidance, advice on coming out, and insight on the changes that come with your first queer relationship - especially as someone who would be categorized as coming out “late in life.” Because I didn’t know where my community existed within my own city, (insert advocacy for a lesbian bar in Mpls here) it was a relief that my social media algorithms would lead me to like-minded people. Although I did find information that proved to be invaluable in stepping into my truth, I was confronted with insecurities that I had never had before.
My TikTok feed was flooded with women who gave tutorials on how to signal your sexuality to other women through your personal style, lesbians criticizing each other for acting or appearing straight, and advice on what haircuts represent different levels of queerness. I was suddenly introduced to a whole new categorization of physical personas - butch, femme, high femme, soft butch, alpha, lipstick, granola, chapstick, hey mamas, pillow princess, etc. Of course these are terms that help people find their place within their communities or ease communication of their gender expression, but it was overwhelming to learn there was an entire lexicon for a new world that I had actively become a part of and I didn’t know where I stood. It felt like standing in a lunchroom and not knowing where to sit.
The foundational principle of my life has always been to live authentically, to be myself and be proud of it - or try to, at the very least. This new realm of queerness presented a complicated output because I felt I had to consciously define what it meant to be myself within the realm of lesbianism. Which led me to truly question: who am I? Am I my interests and hobbies? Am I the clothes I wear? Am I the way I style my hair? Am I my thoughts and feelings? Am I my job? Am I what I eat?
It all became complicated because I so badly wanted to feel a sense of belonging, and the feedback loop was constant. The second I leaned in one direction, I was pulled into another and pretty soon I began questioning everything I did. This, combined with a little late-20’s-happy-relationship-weight-gain, made getting dressed - one of my true pleasures in life since I was a child - induce tears and frustration. It broke my heart that I had lost myself in the attempt to fit in. I felt like I was a tween again trying to squeeze myself into the boxes that had been set out before me. It took a lot of work on my mental health, but eventually I came back to the same conclusion I had when I was young, and should have been obvious to me the whole time.
I don’t belong in a box!!!! It seems trivial and sometimes embarrassingly obvious, but it was a truth I forgot. I will never thrive when confined within the bounds of a societal label. Before coming out, I had never labeled myself as anything other than a Taurus (and occasionally a fashion icon), so it was foolish to attempt to place my peg into any sort of hole. I’m not a peg at all! Who I am is ever changing and that is the only thing I know to be steadfast. I am my friendships, my laughter, my art, my humor - I exist within the songs I make up to sing to my cat and the way I show up for others, which are also ever changing. I thought categorizing myself would simplify things but the simplest way to live is to just be.
Maybe it’s corny, but I can’t help but think about how important it is to know that - especially during pride month - being yourself goes far beyond slapping a label on your sexuality. Being in love with my girlfriend is something I could not be more proud of. We put in the work to love each other, we do so wholeheartedly, and we would not be where we are today if we tried to force ourselves or each other into any preexisting lesbian archetypes. Loving and being loved is just as much about accepting yourself as it is accepting others, which goes FAR beyond romantic relationships - it bleeds into how you move about the world, how you treat strangers, and your ability to enjoy life for what it is.
Whether you’re out and proud or still figuring things out, whether you’re single or in a relationship, no matter where you exist on the spectrum of sexuality and expression, remember that identification is simply a social function. Who you are at your core could not possibly be stifled into a singular identity. Authenticity derives from constant evolution and discovery. You can and WILL change your mind over and over again, you’ll try new foods and dye your hair and have open-minded conversations with people from different walks of life. It may be easy to assign yourself a persona, but you are bound to outgrow it because to be human is to grow and change with our experiences. Be proud of your existence and don’t leave the closet just to put yourself into a box.
