A Coming Out Story by Violeta

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Meet Violeta. She is a musician living in Richmond, VA. She will be releasing her EP THIS month! 9/19. Be on the look out for that, and follow her to keep up with her musical journey. 

instagram: @musiqreiv 

This is her coming out story.

Back in 2010, I was at the tail end of a severe depression episode that had lasted throughout my early teenage years and carried into the beginning of my college career; this "episode" wasfrom a combination of my sexuality (i'm super gay), a religious upbringing, and my Latin culture. You mix all three, and you have one pretty distraught individual, right? 

Anyway, my school at the time slapped a red sticker on my face that said "your GPA sucks! You're smarter than that. Get your shit together."

So I did.

Or rather, I attempted to, all without my parents ever knowing any of this was going on.

So I gathered my strength, and did a lot of self evaluating/reflecting- a voice inside me, told me it was alright; that it was alright to be gay.
But that I wouldn't dare come out to my parents without first having completed college, and moved cross country.

Well, maybe just move out of their house at least...

*sidenote*:

At the time, I am the choir coordinator for the Charismatic Renewal group in my church, mind you. Along with my brother, who was the sub-coordinator; we were a "pretty big deal" in the local Catholic dioceses- everyone, and I mean literally every Catholic Latin person in our community, knew who my parents, brothers and I were. 

So it shouldn't come as a surprise, when I say that my "coming out story" was more of a coming out Novela accompanied by dramatic sound effects, scenery, cops, slaps, accusations and BIG DRAMATIC mouth-holding gasps for days.


Anyway, back to the story.

It's back in 2010, and my younger and clueless super gay self had finally accepted her gayness, but had no plans on coming out, until after college graduation. It'd be two years, before I could be myself fully. 

But, in the spirit of having gotten my college shit together and being on a high from all the positive thoughts I was having after years of depression, I went online to a popular LGTB website at the time where people could make friends, conversations, and date.
Downelink was the culprit, and the mistake, was still a mistake, lol. But no RAgrets. So I go online, and I am browsing through interminable amounts of gorgeous girls whom I was going to be too shy to approach anyway, but a girl could dream/get some eye candy. 

What I did not expect, however, was finding the profile of one of the most intriguing, lovely, and intellectual tomboyish girl (so I thought anyway), reaching out to her through a series of short messages, and finally ending up meeting up with her- Something I had never, and I mean NEVER done or thought about doing before.

So I message her something along the lines of:
"Hey! I think you are very interesting and cute, and I hope you don't mind/have a girlfriend. But if you do, I apologize, and I hope that maybe you'd be open to being friends?"

From what I'd read in her profile, I knew that one way or another, this person had to be in life- Do you know what it feels like to find someone who is so similar to you, they make the world feel a bit less lonely? 

So she replies. And we exchange some messages mainly about our mutual love and passion of music.

And finally one day, we agree to meet up; I picked her up, we headed to what would turn out to be the best first date of my life; the music store, accompanied by several hours of sitting around talking about life, love, philosophies, and music at the dining court of a local mall.
And during which I also ate a whole pack of gum without realizing, because of my nerves, butterflies, and the incredible want to throw up if my parents found out. 

And so the dates continued, until we officially were a couple a few months later.

It was now July 2010.
I'm gay, and my parents still don't know it.

Still, I was dating my dream love, so nothing else mattered.

Until I received a phone call from my distraught girlfriend (remember that lovely, intellectual, tomboyish girl? lol)on a Saturday night in July 2010; she'd gotten into a very big argument with her ex-girlfriend at the time. They'd still been living together, as they shared a lease, but she was looking to move out as soon as she got the chance.

The chance to leave peacefully, never came, however.
And my girlfriend called me frantic, saying that she was leaving her apartment, and she didn't care about not having a place to go to- she was fed up. And her family, out of state.

I couldn't simply sit and do nothing-
But I had no money. No place of my own. Nothing much to offer to her.

Except for an attic space in the new home my family had just moved into, after 10 years of living in poverty in a crappy townhouse apartment- My parents deserved this beautiful house.
With a beautiful attic. That had its own private entrance from my room... lol 

But no sunlight, or AC to cool off in the July heat...

In retrospect, it was possibly the most irresponsible decision I've made in my life, on the count of one day, it got so hot in the attic while my girlfriend was there, that it made her severely sick.

::sigh::
Anyway,
I offered the space to her; for her to sleep in/stay in, while she looked for another place.
And she accepted to stay there, leaving the house with me when I went to my part time job up the street so that my mother wouldn't find her. 

And so a few days passed. And it got hotter in the attic.
I helped her look for another place, with no promising results; and another job, with no promising results.

Until another Saturday in July,  while I was at work and my girlfriend there killing time with me, I get a text message.
Did I mention the only person that knew I was dating a girl was my youngest brother?
Well, he was. 

And he texted me that day. Because he knew that my girlfriend was staying in the attic.

"Violeta, you gotta get home right now. Mom found (your girlfriend's stuff) in the attic and she's going crazy going through her stuff!"

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach- I wanted to puke so bad; the emotions I felt, I've not been able to put into words since.
But it's a mixed feeling of that your life is over, and that it is an actual REALITY that you've heard about, seen about in movies, and etc. but that you seldom think of yourself going through.
I wish that feeling, not upon NO ONE- not even my exes, lol. 

Anyway, so I get the text. And I'm at work. And I tell my girlfriend that my mom has found her stuff.
And I wait until I get off work- 2 hours later.
And when I'm finally off, I sit in the car for a bit with my girlfriend. And I begin to frantically cry and tell her that my life is over.
that I don't want to go back to my house.
that I want to run away.


And as my girlfriend is trying to calm me down, I get a phone call.
It's my mom.
she's telling me, that I need to come home.
that she's called the cops, and that I need to come home so that "that girl" can "come get her stuff."

::cue dramatic Novela calling of the cops here:: 

So I go back and forth with my girlfriend for sometime, and we finally decide that she needs to get her things, and that if need be, I will leave as well.

So we get back to my house.
And the cops are outside. As is my whole family and part of the neighborhood.
And my dad goes back and forth with the cops about how "this person" trespassed their house, and how they'd like for her to leave.
Something I'd already decided- I wanted to make sure my girlfriend was out of danger from my parents or the cops before dealing with anything else. 

So I call a close friend and ask if my girlfriend can come spend the night, and that I couldn't explain why.
He asked no questions.
But my girlfriend did not want to leave me alone to deal with everything.
...I made her leave.

And when she left, I remember getting bombarded with the same question time after time:
What's going on? Who is this person? Are you and she together? What's going on? 

And the whole time, I stay silent.
And since my dad couldn't get any answers from me, he takes my house keys and my car keys away from me saying:

"Well, since we can't trust you right now, you're going to need someone to accompany you or get the door for you whenever you go in and out of the house.
And someone has to drive you around. We can't trust you. I don't know who you are. I'd much rather you go out and sleep with some men. I'd much rather you have been pregnant.
I'd much rather you were dead." 

And then, I died.

A big part of me died that night with his words to me.
He broke my heart that night.
To this day, he does not know that. ::sigh::

Anyway, after having buried me in his words, I lost it- I said, I don't want to be here, and I left. I rushed outside; my middle brother followed.

"Please, tell me what's going on? What's going on? Who is she?," be begged with tears in his eyes- to this day they seem so real, I can see the glare on his cheek in the full moonlight.

"She's my girlfriend; I love her. I'm gay," I said to him in tears, breaking away from his half hug, and him allowing me to do so. 

I rushed off.

I got into my car.

I took nothing with me.

I left the house.

I reunited with my girlfriend and my friend 10 minutes later, only to spend the remainder of the Summer of 2010 dodging countless calls from church.
From church people.
From archbishops from the Richmond Diocesesis.
From archbishops in New York where we'd played so many church concerts and such.
From my family here in the States.
And family back in my home country. 

Even my dog called me. 

All asking me, what I was doing.
Saying that I couldn't possibly be gay.
That it must surely be a phase. That I was confused.
That God loved me too much, and had a plan for me; I couldn't stray away, because they all "loved me too much."

So much they all loved me, that they broke me that Summer-
Though my girlfriend was going through her own things at the time, she was my crutch. She was my strength ( the little bit I had then). She, was my rock.
Still,
I attempted suicide three different times, and thought about it multiple  times after that, the Summer of 2010. 

But so much she loved me, and I she, that our love surpassed everything that Summer.

Life took us in directions we were not prepared for, including being long distance for about a year, before we finally got an apartment of our own- we were finally together, and nothing else mattered. We went on to raise one of the cutest puppies named Kayu, and even got our own first car together!

looking back on things? I think I would have never had the courage to come out on my own- I believe this is why things happened the way that they did, instead. To this day, I regret nothing about any of it, except for the keeping my girlfriend in the attic, in 100 degree weather the whole day.

::insert long dramatic Latin Novela gasp here:: 

      Violeta's advice for those who haven't come out yet: 

I'd advise those who want to come out but who are afraid:  people will ALWAYS, ALWAYS look at you "funky." You could be the straightest, most "perfect" person in this world, and people would STILL dislike you, or talk about you, or shun you. Because people, will be people. 
But! I can say that 1) it is not a REQUIREMENT that ANYBODY come out to their friends or their parents, but that it does LIBERATE THE SOUL. You can now talk about your dates, your likes, your jokes, and other things that before you couldn't. A sense of finally...finding out who you truly are begins. However, I do recommend for the younger crowd who still relies on parents and others for room/board, etc to have a backup plan on where to go, should things head south. 

If you are no longer living with parents, then do it for the liberation of yourself. Coming out should become so normal, that we shouldn't have to "come out" any longer.  But in the meantime, those who can, should do it- it is, liberation from chains you didn't even know (or more than likely hadn't acknowledged) existed. But! Brace yourself for the storm- On the other side, will be a different life, but it will be YOUR OWN LIFE. 

Violeta and her pup Kayu