I love being a lesbian. I love exploring my queerness, pushing myself out of my gender comfort zone, and loudly loving my girlfriend with my entire being. However, as with most things that we learn to love about ourselves, there was once a time we didn’t.
Growing up the signs were blindingly obvious, but somehow no one was able to see it, least of all me. I can laugh about it all now, an amusing list of anecdotes: being in awe when I learnt you could make two girls on The Sims 2 kiss, marrying my Bratz dolls, rewatching ‘Sk8r Boi’ by Avril Lavigne to see a girl in boys’ clothes, being immensely jealous of whoever played Dad when playing house at school because I wanted the wife and children.
Then, adolescence struck and suddenly my little curiosities blinked in the gaydar of other students. Like a drop of blood around sharks, they zeroed in on my queerness and once the word got out I “thought” I was gay, it was only the beginning of my battle with my identity.
My entire teenage years were spent repressing any lesbian thoughts that dared to cross my mind. The “L” word was attached to my name like a hook in a fish’s mouth, painful and present, and the more I tried to swim away the deeper it cut. My peers called me a lesbian like it was a slur, always followed with a humiliating laugh or an uncomfortable avoidance. All I knew was that it made me different, weird, and unacceptable.
I blocked it out. I didn’t get into any relationships, I lied about finding boys attractive, I deflected my love for femininity by idolising feminine men. While it made me numb and set me back a good few years in developing my sense of self, it at least stopped me being laughed at.
Luckily, university turned out to be my damsel in shining armour. I made beautifully queer friends that were proud, unapologetic, and welcoming. I started to unwind the damage around my little heart and let my lesbianism break free, like a caged animal released back into the wild.
However, the cherry on top was meeting my beautiful girlfriend in my second year of uni. Being with her just made everything click into place in my scrambled brain and now I feel safe finding out new things about myself. What I should have been exploring as a teenager, I now can discover in my 20s: what makes me feel loved, how I love others, how I want the world to perceive me.
When I began volunteering for Just Like Us, I had the most beautiful experience of meeting queer people across the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. Hearing other young LGBTQIA+ people’s stories made me realise that what we have all been through at school was not, and should never have been viewed as, normal. Thankfully, with the support of Just Like Us, I’m able to reach school pupils who are questioning themselves just like I did, and show them that being LGBTQIA+ isn’t wrong or something to be ashamed of.
Consequently, I’ve learnt to take pride in my identity and show myself some compassion. While my inner teenager still reacts with caution sometimes, my inner child gets to watch ‘Sk8r Boi’ as many times as she wants without feeling embarrassed – it’s a learning curve.
This Lesbian Visibility Week, I’ll be reflecting on what makes me a proud and blossoming lesbian today, while also remembering what came before this version of me. It’s so important to lift others up, offer a safe space, and remind the lesbians in your life that they’re seen, loved and perfect exactly as they are.
Jenna is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBTQIA+ young people’s charity. Just Like Us needs LGBTQIA+ ambassadors aged 18-25 to speak in schools – sign up now.
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