Four years ago today my (ex) husband and I packed up a Uhaul, and I moved out of our shared home. It was also our 7th wedding anniversary. And I already had a girlfriend.

I wasn’t proud.

Through the 6 months prior, I’d slowly fallen in love with my yoga teacher. (A classic tale, really). And I had spent 4 of those months in complete denial.

My mind truly couldn’t register what my body was shouting. I looked in the mirror and saw a mere 109 pounds of confusion staring back at me… and I’d had hives since the day I met her.

I’d write in my journal, “she is just the closest friend, the most loving person I’ve ever known. I don’t want to lose this.” (But never, ever, would I say “she’s hot,” because that felt predatory and nauseating).

I was casually dreaming of being held by her in bed, and waking up perplexed as to what it meant. I was writing poems about her gravity, and I couldn’t shake this feeling that I was lying to myself about something... I just wasn’t sure what yet. I was so nervous around her. I’d talk too much. I’d overshare. I was so tense and rigid and accidentally flirtatious– which really just means awkward in my case.

Once (drunk on one glass of wine) I even asked her “do you ever really feel, you know, fucked, by a woman?” She said yes. Then I went home to my husband and wondered why she consumed all my thoughts. I was just curious. It was just… so nice to have a friend.

I was definitely not Queer.

Coming out to my husband sounded more like “um, I think I’m attracted to a woman and I don't know what it means...”

I couldn’t say “I’m queer” out loud for almost a year.

I’d tried on all the labels and it felt like looking in the mirror while wearing someone else’s jeans.

Nothing fit.

I felt itchy in my own skin. I hated how it felt, but had to scratch.

I hated feeling like I was dressed up as a fake. I hated feeling like I was too femme to be queer. Like I was taking a label that didn’t belong to people like me. I hated how little choice I felt. I hated feeling like this was happening to me.

I didn't want to be gay. I wanted to be a good wife.

Inching my way into allowing my Queerness felt like being emptied out and filled up, simultaneously, continuously, for months. It felt like losing and finding myself all at once. It was liberating and devastating and overwhelming and disgracing. An awakening that absolutely felt too much too fast too soon.

I felt like a 14 year old experiencing love and sex and desire for the first time… except I was 14 years too late. Already married and supposed to have it all figured out by now.

I distinctly remember telling a friend I fell in love with a woman. She responded with laughter and exclaimed, “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE A LESBO!”

My whole body went hollow.

I felt disgusted.

I felt embarrassed.

I felt humiliated.

I felt shame.

I wanted to crawl out of my hive-ridden skin, find a hole to jump into and hide forever.

Did I feel pride? Absolutely not.

Like many of you who messaged me about your queer experience, I, too, grieve for the internalized homophobia and self-hatred I lived with for 28 years. I hate how I thought vulvas were “disgusting” and to love women was gross at best, predatory at worst.

I am saddened to remember having no queer references through adolescence (besides Ellen, whose coming out story I was scolded for watching at 8 years old). I am angry for the performative heteronormativity I was taught, and how I thought winning the attention of a man was the same thing as desiring a man.

My heart hurts imagining my teenage self going numb to her desire for women in fear of being just like her abusers.

In the four years since coming out, I now understand why queer people celebrate Pride.

I now know what it means to alchemize shame into boisterous, unbridled self-expression. I now understand how sacred it is to be Queer… and I’d never choose otherwise!!

It’s so fun to dress for self-expression, not the male gaze.

It’s so sensual, so safe, so soft, to love women.

It’s so fulfilling and expansive to have a community that is queer (albeit a bit sad to realize some of your besties are low key homophobic… just like you were).

I guess what I am trying to say is learning to be Proud is complicated. It’s a journey. It’s personal. It’s a process.

And if you happen to be questioning, wrestling, creaking your heart open, or out and still processing shame from programming of the past, what I’ve learned is that you’re right on time and you’re welcome here.

You’re always welcome here.

Because being Queer (like Liberation) is an orientation not a destination.

It’s an orientation towards freedom, self-expression, healing, community, belonging and the love of being a human.

Being Queer and Proud, I now see, is simply understanding that my true nature is good– that we are nature. (Nature is freaky!!!) And anyone that taught me otherwise is simply afraid of what it means to be free.

I love you, I really do.

In grace and peace and pride,

Madison

P.S. Here are some things I’m musing on at the moment!

If you want to let your freak flag fly high the rest of the year, please enjoy my big lesbian playlist, GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS.

I’ll be answering questions sent in the Sacred Heart Sanctuary all about this on Sunday during our Ask Me Anything and community meditation call. It’s This Sunday, July 2 at 10:30am CST. If you want to come and join the discussion, click here.