my coming out story

By the time I knew I was seriously attracted to women, it was too late to do anything about it. I was a married mom in my 40s. End of story.

I mean, I dabbled in college, but that doesn’t count, right?!

But, when I chose to leave my toxic marriage, a whole new chapter was now possible.

Following divorce, I wanted to do 2 things (in no particular order). 

Get more tattoos. Date a woman. 

Monica found me about 6 months after my contested divorce was finalized (18 months after separating). A colleague had recommended her for my divorce dating bucket list, but I repeatedly dismissed her as ‘too butch’. But, then, we got to know each other and we both fell head over heels in love. In true lesbianic fashion, we began dating quickly and intensely. Incidentally, and ironically, Monica and I officially began dating on my ex’s birthday.

Roughly a month after beginning to date, I met Monica’s mom and stepdad. It was a lovely first visit. I really only remember one moment of the day. I briefly felt as if I was going to pass out. In jest, someone said, “If you need a hospital, there’s one right down the street.” We all laughed.

That night, I had 4 mini-strokes and my 7 year old daughter put me into an ambulance. My second call was to my 30-day girlfriend. Monica and I had spoken about how I should ‘come out’ to my mom, but it was all theoretical. In truth, I was out to very few people.

I was rushed to the emergency room and received life-saving drugs to break up the blood clots in my brain. Within 2 hours of my symptoms beginning, I was stable and able to speak again.

Deep in COVID protocol, hospital visitation was restricted to 1 guest a day. Monica was my one visitor and, by default, my director of communications tasked with informing family, work, and close friends of my situation.

The first call was to my sister…who Monica had never met and didn’t know I was queer. I wasn’t there, but I expect it was a super awkward conversation. 

It wasn’t until l stabilized that I called my sister. “Who’s Monica?”

Loooooooooooong silence.

“Monica is my girlfriend.”

Brief silence.

“Okay.”

The next day, I called my mother. I was direct because I was still slow to find the right words on top of struggling to find the right words for this important conversation.

“Happy Mother’s Day. I am in the hospital. I am okay, but I had a stroke.”

(I also told her that doctors discovered a degenerative brain disorder and that brain surgery would be required to prevent another, much more damaging stroke...but that’s a lot for my coming out story.)

“Mom, I wanna tell you something else,” the phone shaking in my hand, “I am deeply in love with someone and she happens to be a woman.”

“As long as you are happy and healthy, I don’t care who you love.”

Granted, I was incredibly opportunistic by burying the lead under surviving a life threatening event, but it's definitely a story I lived to tell.

Be you. Be well.