It’s Your Over Feminism That’s Making You Think Like This

Or Feminism Made Me Gay: True Story

For Pride this year I had three goals:

  1. Get laid
  2. Get hitched
  3. Come out to my family

I’ve achieved goals 2 and 3, as for goal 1, well anything can happen in a few hours.

While I would love to gush about how perfect my girlfriends are, this story is not about that. This story is about laying out all my cards in front of my family and what I got in return.

On Wednesday, 3rd June 2020, I decided to come out to my sisters; well the original plan was to come out to one of them. After careful deliberation, I chose A, who I believed had the most progressive values and sent her a “we need to talk”. Girl when I say my anxiety flared up as I waited for her to respond.

I waited about 10 minutes (patience isn’t my strong suit), and I decided to text the next person on the list. She responded immediately. It was beautiful in a way that lacked the fanfare of TV coming out stories but had the intimacy of family. I felt seen, I felt hopeful. If she accepted me then everyone else would right? lol wrong.

A texted back, and I simply blurted it out. After the success of the first trial, I was sure this would go well. “I think that you should try dating the opposite sex, like really put your mind to it”. Like I hadn’t dated the opposite sex three times already. Like I hadn’t had meaningful and meaningless flings with the opposite sex. I was hurt and glad she didn’t respond immediately, because I wouldn’t have shared the beautiful moment with B if she had.

I decided to text C on a whim. Might as well rip the bandaid off completely you know. “Well first of all there is a very demonic spirit behind this… the earlier you retrace your steps the better”. I expected this response, she’s the resident Bible thumper after all, but it still hurt, a lot more than I’m willing to admit. We haven’t talked since then, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to speak to her.

Yesterday I woke up and realised Pride Month was almost over and if I was going to come out to my mum during it, I didn’t have much time. Since I was a teenager, I talked to my mum via notes whenever I had to tell her something that was too hard to say. I wrote the cutest note, I dare say my handwriting has never looked better.

I told her I was a lesbian and I hoped she’d accept me. “Approve what? What are you saying? Is this one of your funny writings?” I didn’t know what to say. My best friend encouraged me to continue the conversation, let her know I was serious. She held the note up to eye level, looked me in the eye and tore it into several pieces. “It’s your over feminism that’s making you think like this”. I am yet to process the pain I feel or at least should feel. I joked about it on my WhatsApp status, maybe if I laughed about it, it wouldn’t hurt. I felt everything, then I felt nothing.

I’m scared, scared to be in the same house with her, not knowing what her next move is or what she’s thinking. Has she pushed it under the carpet? Am I gonna have to start seeing her creepy pastor?

Tolu said I must be so brave to have done this, I don’t feel brave, I feel like a deer in headlights.

P.S I don’t disagree because accepting my feminism was the first step to dismantling my internalised homophobia.

Student of law, writer.

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