My story. Coming out as a lesbian at age 33, with a 3 year old daughter, divorced from her father for 2 years. Coming out to myself was a life-long process, and the more clarity I got about my sexuality, the more memories came flooding in: the girlhood crushes, the make-out sessions that were never talked about or acknowledged afterward.
The most difficult conversation I had was coming out to my parents. They mattered most. I was already living with my girlfriend at the time, and the folks were coming to town for a visit. I couldn't have them in our house with this big secret - it just felt so wrong. I needed to call them, to tell them on the phone, give them the chance to absorb it all before their visit.
I barely slept the night before, sweaty palms, heart palpitations and the dread that they would forever reject me.
"Hi dad. Uh, could you get mom on the other line? I want to talk with you both." That's how it started. I used the word, "Gay" oddly enough. I guess "Lesbian" was just too shocking. I explained that L. and I were a couple, and I wanted them to know this before they came for their visit. My dad asked if this were the reason I'd left my husband. "No," I said, "I left him because he was an asshole!" Ah, laughter from everyone. Sweet, sweet laughter.
They assured me they loved me, and that this revelation didn't change that. They'd see me in a couple of days.
After that conversation I felt as i I could take on the world. My parents now knew, and they still loved me. This gave me the strength to tell anybody, anybody, and not give a damn if they didn't like it. I had the love and support of mom and dad, and that was everything.