coming out stories.

I'm 45 years old, a single mom to an amazing little girl, and I've recently come to a realization that has honestly surprised the hell out of me.

I think I need to come out again.

Which is crazy because I came out when I was 18!

I spent my 20s and early 30s dating women. I had several long-term relationships, including one that lasted almost ten years. My family was mostly accepting, and my partners were welcomed into our lives. My girlfriend of nearly ten years was practically part of the family. She and my sister were incredibly close, and my parents loved her.

When that relationship ended, I was devastated. I genuinely thought I would never find another woman like her.

Eventually, I started dating a man. It was a short relationship, but out of it came the greatest gift of my life: my daughter. And for that, I will always be grateful.

But I never had the emotional or physical connection with him that I'd experienced with women.

Looking back, I think I was just tired. Tired of feeling different. Tired of feeling like I had to prove that my relationships were just as normal and legitimate as everyone else's. I think a part of me wondered if being with a man would just be easier.

Then I became a mom, COVID happened, and I put my head down and poured everything I had into raising my daughter.

A few years later, I reconnected with an old crush. We ended up dating long-distance for about a year, and it was beautiful, intense, passionate, and everything I remembered about being with a woman.

It reminded me of something I already knew deep down. I'm gay. I've always been gay.

But this time, something was different.

My family wasn't nearly as accepting.

My girlfriend was more masculine-presenting than my previous long-term partner, and suddenly I felt this resistance that I hadn't experienced before. My family would tell me they supported me, but they never asked about her. If I went away for the weekend to visit her, nobody asked how my weekend was or how she was doing. It was like the relationship didn't exist.

When I brought it up, I would hear things like, "Of course we support you, but that's just not the lifestyle we see for you."

One of the hardest moments came when my sister, whom I'm extremely close to, told me she wasn't comfortable with her children meeting my girlfriend because, "My kids look up to you so much, so what would that make them think?"

That absolutely crushed me.

At the same time, my girlfriend wanted us to move forward faster than I was ready for. She wanted to meet my family, be public on social media, and move our relationship to the next level. I wasn't ready for all of that. I hadn't even told my daughter's father I was dating someone, and I needed to navigate that in my own time.

Between the pressure from my relationship and the judgment I felt from my family, it all became too much.

We broke up.

That was about two years ago, and since then, I think I've quietly pushed that part of myself back down again.

Until recently.

I stumbled across the Lesbian Chronicles podcast, and listening to these two women talk so openly about their experiences, motherhood, relationships, and coming out has brought so much to the surface for me.

I've also reconnected with a couple of women from my past, and even those conversations have reminded me of the depth of connection I've always experienced with women.

And I've realized something.

There's an emptiness inside me that I've been trying very hard not to acknowledge.

I'm 45 years old. I don't want to keep laughing it off when people suggest men they think I should date. I don't want to pretend that I'm perfectly content being single forever.

I want a woman.

I want that beautiful feminine connection. I want the emotional intimacy, the passion, the companionship. I want a partner to share this life with.

And I want to be able to say, without shrinking or worrying about what anyone else thinks:

I'm a lesbian.

But here's the part that has surprised me the most.

I'm scared.

Like, genuinely scared. I'm hesitant, nervous, and worried about being judged. And I cannot believe how much that bothers me.

I've lived more of my adult life openly gay than I ever have pretending to be straight! This isn't some new discovery. I've known who I am since I was a teenager.

So why on earth does coming out again at 45 feel scarier than it did at 18?

I think somewhere along the way, between becoming a mother, navigating family expectations, and trying to keep everyone comfortable, I started making myself smaller.

And I didn't even realize I was doing it.

My family is incredibly close, and I actually live on the same property as my parents because I help take care of them. I love my family deeply, and I don't want to lose that closeness. But I'm starting to realize that I can't keep suppressing such an important part of myself just to make everyone else comfortable.

And then there's the other part of this whole journey...

Where the hell do you meet women at 45?! 😂

I live in a small town in North Florida. I'm a single mom about 90% of the time, and I don't have a circle of gay friends or much of a gay community around me.

I've tried the dating apps, and I absolutely hate them. They just don't feel like me.

I'm also very feminine-presenting, so I feel like most women probably assume I'm straight anyway!

I would love to build friendships with other lesbian women, find a community, and eventually meet someone special. But honestly, I don't even know where to begin.

So I'm sharing my story here because I'm wondering if anyone else can relate.

Has anyone else come out young, lived openly gay for years, and then somehow found themselves back in the closet later in life?

Has becoming a mother changed the way you navigate your sexuality or your family's expectations?

And for those of you who are single moms in your 40s (or beyond!), how are you meeting other women and building community outside of dating apps?

I'd genuinely love to hear your stories, your experiences, and your advice. And if there are any women in North Florida who are also looking for friendship and community, I'd love to connect!

I think one of the hardest parts of all of this has been feeling like I'm navigating it alone.

But maybe that's why I'm finally sharing my story.

Because at 45, I'm realizing that I don't want to spend another chapter of my life hiding a part of myself that I've known and loved for so long.

I don't need to figure out who I am. I already know. I just need to find the courage to be her again.

💚 Shellbe