What is internalized homophobia? It is negative thoughts and feelings that members of the LGBTQ+ community experience about their own sexuality. It takes all the insecurities that society has forced upon us through the notion that our identity goes against ‘the norm’ and turning them inwards. Internalized homophobia does not mean you’re homophobic. It comes when you have trouble distancing your identity from our heavily heteronormative and gender sterotyped society and feel that who you really are on the inside has no place in society. Not all LGBTQ+ people experience this in the same way.
While I’m out to the world, I’m not out to my family. I only recently came to terms with my sexuality when I was forced to sit with no one but myself through those long months of the first lockdown, though deep down I’d known it for a while. Though I did come out to my friends, which was a long, mentally draining process for many reasons, I felt (and still feel) that I don’t have the mental stability I would need if my family were to react badly. This is probably one of the reasons I haven’t been able to fully accept myself. My family are the people who are supposed to know me best, yet I still can’t bring myself to tell them and risk ruining the vision of the future they had for me.
This is hard for me to talk about because I am a very proud person. I am proud that I’m gay, but after so many years of hearing about every reason why I should be ashamed of it, it’s taking some time to accept it. No one in my immediate circle has ever outright told me it was wrong, but the little actions speak just as loudly; When my aunt asked me why my Catholic high school had a GSA (Gay-Straight Alliance) if they “didn’t agree” with being gay; whenever my uncle averted his eyes from two men kissing on the TV, or when he called the first “gay moment” in a Star Wars film unnecessary; whenever anyone asked why I wasn’t talking to any boys; when I told my mom I didn’t want kids and she told me how disappointed she was, reminding me every chance she gets about what a great mother I’d be. The day I came out to my best friend and knew our relationship was changed forever.
Even though I know who I am, I still can’t help but question it. The worst of it are the moments when I almost convince myself I’m faking the whole thing, which, by the way, is absolutely ridiculous. The fact that I am gay is just as true when I’m alone as it is when I’m surrounded by people, but my brain still can’t help but think I’m only doing it for attention. These moments come often, and they’re terrible each time. I’m normally so sure of myself, but these moments feel like betrayal. In these moments all I feel is pain and disappointment, in myself and in the world. The fact that it only takes a second to start hating this part of myself; the fact that all society is saying is that I should hate this part of myself; the fact that I live in a world where something so beautiful can be destroyed in a moment.
Talking about my sexuality is something that brings me so much anxiety. For so long I didn’t want it to be true, so I pushed it to the back of my mind and continued being what I thought was ‘normal.’ I convinced myself that my being gay was wrong while continuely supporting everyone who was coming out around me.
I remember conversations around the cafeteria table when I was in Grade 9, asking my friends what they thought of the LGBTQ+ community… let’s just say their responses were disheartening. Mostly they were uneducated, just like I was. But missing out on that support when I was younger made me feel alienated and different in the wrong way. I put myself into situations where I was entirely uncomfortable because that’s what I thought I should be doing. I forced myself to like boys, to try and get into a relationship with some guy when every part of me was screaming to run away. I thought I was broken, that there was something wrong with me because I didn’t think about guys the same way my friends did. I wish I’d had someone in my life, some mentor on the media or in a popular TV show that I could look up to.
I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve referred to myself as gay throughout this story instead of referring to myself as a lesbian. To me, the word ‘lesbian’ has been so oversexualized that it makes me feel disgusting. So much of my mind is spent making sure the women I find attractive don’t resemble any of my friends or family members, and it’s exhausting. If anyone even has the same name as a family member I move past them immediately. I over analyze every form of contact I have with my friends, making sure I don’t initiate contact or do something that makes them feel uncomfortable. I am overly conscious of the way that society has perverted queer relationships, and I feel my anxiety carrying my mind to irrational scenarios that would never happen in a million years; my mind searching for a reason to prove that my gayness is wrong. It’s exhausting. And I’ve found myself wishing, more times than I care to say, that I was straight; that I was ‘normal.’ I never asked for this. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been struck down with some curse, something to make sure I’d never be happy.
And why wouldn’t I? With any relationship in a TV or movie being so toxic it makes love feel like a joke, with all the characters that have been introduced for diversity and then killed off for no reason, with all the unnecessary drama, with all the cheating, with the fact that a movie about a gay person can’t be popular unless it follows their coming out. It’s no wonder that LGBTQ+ children and teenagers experience higher rates of suicide and mental illness when society isn’t even trying to hide the fact that they think our love is wrong. Only within the past two years have truly positive gay role models been introduced, but it’s hard to be proud when almost every example you’re given is the opposite of you in every way.
I’m just angry at the world for forcing me and thousands of other people to hide who they are, to go through life so uncomfortable in our own skin some and some people feel the only option is to commit suicide. I’m tired of fighting with myself over something I accept so easily in other people. Maybe I’m afraid. I’m afraid that telling people will be self-sabotage. That I’ll destroy my career, my relationships, with one simple sentence. That one day I’ll tell the wrong person and end up on the floor bleeding, or dead. That’s the dilemma. I have the privilege of appearing straight to other people; so I have to tell them. I have to come out over and over and over again, to everyone I meet, and I’m already exhausted.
Funny thing is, I’ve never felt more sure and so entirely baffled at the same time. I’ve never felt so happy and so angry, so sure of myself but so insecure. I’ve never felt more myself, and yet I still have so much more to discover. It’s a long journey to acceptance, and I’ve found that exposing myself to queer media and books, and finding good role models on social media have helped me. I am proud of being gay, and I’ve never felt more at home. Learning how to love yourself can be hard. To anyone reading this, I am so proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself for overcoming so much negativity.
All my love,
Giulia V