10/12/2026
It took unlearning compulsory heterosexuality (comp het) ; the deeply ingrained belief that heterosexuality is the default, that loving men is what we’re “supposed to do,” that being admired by men is meant to feel wonderful and that the life we’re taught to want is the life we’re meant to want.
I didn’t know how much of my understanding of love, partnership, and identity had been shaped by expectations I had never thought to question.
And I want to be clear: the love I have shared with Sean is real. The years, the memories, the tenderness, the life we built…none of that becomes less meaningful because I’m coming to understand myself differently. Love can be real, and there can still be parts of ourselves we haven’t yet learned how to name.
I am Gay.
Coming out later in life is complicated. It can feel like liberation and loss living in the same body. This is joy and Body Grief. There can be joy in finally seeing yourself more clearly and grief for the time you spent not knowing how, or feeling able, to do so. There can be relief, fear, uncertainty, excitement, and a thousand feelings that don’t fit neatly into a coming-out story.
I’m learning that I don’t have to make my past wrong to honor who I’m becoming. I don’t have to rush my understanding of myself to make it easier for anyone else to understand. And I don’t have to experience this as anything other than what it is: my own unfolding.
You are not behind. You are not too late. You do not owe anyone a perfectly packaged explanation of your identity or your timeline. Trust me.
Give yourself grace.
Give yourself time.
Give yourself compassion.
Give yourself space for joy AND grief.
You are allowed to celebrate who you’re becoming while mourning what it took to get here.
You are allowed to take your time.
You are allowed to be a work in progress.
And you are allowed to choose yourself, even when doing so changes everything.
Here’s to coming home to ourselves, in whatever time and in whatever way that takes. 🌈🤍
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