I was raised religious, in a religion where being a lesbian was a sin worthy of ending up in Hell. I first experienced same-sex attraction when I was 11 years old. I remember it as if it's burned into my memory: I was in the Tokyo airport for the first time, moving to Japan as a military child. A stunning, soft looking girl walked past me and my family, and I remember thinking to myself how beautiful she was. I had dreams later of holding her hand in a romantic manner. I was too young to dissect my feelings, so I shoved them down and began to internalize the thought: "Maybe I'm a bad person because I thought about myself holding hands with a pretty girl". Because I only had access to religious resources, I never admitted my attraction to women. The feelings of disgust and self-loathing only grew.
By the time I was 14 I became severely depressed with episodes of mania and suicidal. My thoughts had been shaped by my religion: I was a monster, unworthy of God's love, and an embarrassment and disappointment to my family. I began seeing a psychiatrist at age 15 and was diagnosed with Bipolar 1. Around the same time, my cousin (and best friend) left the church we'd grown up in. Her courage eventually moved me to the point of leaving, too. Still, I did not admit my attraction to women until my senior year of high school.
At age 17, I became confident enough with myself to come out as bisexual to my closest friends (most of whom were still active in the church). Unfortunately, I was met with "Gabi, you're not bisexual. You only date men!" It was true, I had only dated men up to that point. However, nothing long term ever lasted. I had clung on to the hope that I could make it work with a man. At least then my parents would still accept that, even though they were already upset I'd left the church.
I moved out at age 18, leaving all my high school friends behind. My college friends were much more accepting and it was easy to be myself around them. After ending a semi-long term relationship with a man, I became openly, publicly out as a lesbian. I'd spent a lot of time talking with a therapist and trusted people in my life and I knew it was time. I worked through religious trauma and lingering feelings of low self-worth with a wonderful therapist and had the most supportive friends a girl could ask for.
Now, years later, I'm extraordinarily proud to be a lesbian. I strive to be an example to people who might not be out yet, showing that being gay is not a bad thing, and not something you'll go to Hell for. Hell, or the concept of it, is for bad people, and being gay does not automatically make you a bad person. I'm grateful for the examples I had in my life, and for therapists, and for close friends. I've built a good life, and have gained confidence in myself that would astound my 11 year old self.