My Coming Out Story

So first, when I was 14, my dad uprooted us from Massachusetts and moved us to North Carolina, where I started high school. I had always had the feeling I was gay ever since I knew what "gay" was but I talked myself out of it for years because my parents told me it was wrong and that God hated it.
Then I went to high school...
It was like homosexuality took a school bus that day just to come slap me in the face. I had been homeschooled for 2 years before that so hiding from my sexuality was pie because I didn't have much interaction with the outside world. However, after we moved, I finally convinced my parents that homeschooling me was harmful, not helpful, and they let me go to public school. There, I started having real life crushes on other girls, which I ever so smartly just knew I could mask up by dating boys. So I did. Date boys. A lot of boys. One relationship would fail and I would move on to the next one in a matter of a week. I didn't give myself time to think about dating women, even though I knew I had crushes on one of my straight girl friends.
Then I met Erin... The girl who built me up to free me, and then tore me down. The first thing Erin ever said to me was "Hey, I'm Erin... Are you gay?" I flipped out. How the hell did she know? Instead of keeping my cool... I yelled at her. It wasn't a good start.
The following year, we were in the same English class. She purposely sat behind me. The first day of class, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hey... I'm sorry I pissed you off last year... Can we start over? My name is Erin. What's yours?" God, her smile was so gorgeous and her dimples were so cute. "I'm Bekah. I'm sorry I flipped out on you. Yes, we can start over." Through the next few months, Erin and I grew much closer in friendship... I had a boyfriend. She was gay. No big deal. That is, until I kissed her one day in English class. Yup. That happened. I didn't take it well. What was happening to me? I had a steady boyfriend who I had been with for over 2 years... He was someone I could at least live with. Why was I kissing my friend?
Spoiler alert... it didn't stop there. "Bathroom breaks" turned into make out sessions. We started getting sloppy and even held hands in the hallways sometimes. No one seemed to notice... but I did. I noticed I was falling in love... with a girl.
I broke up with my boyfriend, hoping Erin and I would be together. But shortly after, she started dating an ex of hers... I was heartbroken and told that I waited too long to end my relationship and come out. At this time, most of my friends started finding out I liked girls. However, being bisexual was a more widely accepted form of sexuality in my school for women so I just accepted the title. It was comfortable because I didn't have to admit that I would never be happy with a man.
Fast forward a year... Erin and I rekindled a romantic relationship (unofficially) for a long time after she and Jill broke up. It wasn't until we had sex for the first time that she asked me to be her girlfriend... I should have known.
Erin broke my heart... shattered it, really, in the most brutal way possible. I mean the kind of pain that makes you think you'll never feel good again. She knew she had that power, too... so she kept hurting me in other ways, in any way she could, really. I had never been that hurt by a man... so I went back to them. I never wanted to feel this pain ever again. But it never felt the way I felt when I was with Erin.

Over time, and countless failed heterosexual relationships, my best friend at the time, who I hadn't come out to, took me out for drinks. She got me tipsy and then said "Can I tell you something because you're my best friend and I love you?" I nodded. She said "Brandon (my boy of the month) isn't for you... In fact, I don't think men are for you." I was shocked. How was everyone seeing this when I was working so hard to hide it? "Oh... why do you say that?" I asked. "Well, because you're gay. And I want you to know that it's OK. We all know it... and we just want you to be happy." A weight lifted off my shoulders. I broke up with Brandon 2 days later.
Ever since, I was out to everyone except my family. Then I met my wife, and everything changed. When I knew she was the one, I took my time planning how I wanted to come out to my parents... and she was patient. But, my plans did not work out how I was hoping they would.
One day, my mom asked me to if she could come over to my apartment to talk. I felt uneasy about the whole thing so I asked my friend to come over and be there in case it hit the fan. My mother wasn't having it. She asked me to come outside and leave my friend in my living room. There, in the parking lot of my apartment complex, my mother tore me a new one, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs and humiliating me in front of all of my neighbors. She knew. She saw pictures of Lisa and I online because Lisa had failed to make her profile private on Facebook. She yelled scriptures to me. She told me my brother hated me and that my father would too. She told me that if her parents found out, it would kill them. She told me that if I didn't stop this right now and turn to God, I would go to hell.
I drank and did drugs for weeks to numb the pain. But Lisa was not having it. She got to a point where she told me that enough was enough and that I needed to pull myself together and move on. I told my father in a letter because I was afraid he would hit me. He's a preacher. He didn't hit me with his fists but he did stab me with painful scripture and lectures about God and evil and "behold your sins will find you out." He told me that Lisa was never welcomed into his family or his home and that I was to attend family functions alone and never to speak about her in his presence.

I came out to the rest of my family with ease. It was simple. I mailed them all wedding invitations. (HAH!) Some happily came... most did not. My mother was mortified because she warned me never to let her family find out. I was done hiding who I am.

This is who I am. I'm gay and I'm proud, because I will never let someone make me feel ashamed of who I am ever again.