I'm Gay- by Michaela Pilkenton

I’m gay.

In a lot of ways those two words have not gotten any easier to say, type, write, think, or identify with in the last six years. But I have been gay for much longer than that.

I dated guys all through middle school, high school, and even started my first year of college by moving into an apartment with my long term high school boyfriend. At the surface, I was the perfect straight girl. At least I thought I was doing a good job of coming off that way.

I was teased, bullied, and harassed through most of middle and high school. Once in eighth grade, some boys photoshopped my face onto a male body builder body and printed out nearly one hundred copies and put them all around the school. In high school, the bullying was more subtle, but constant. I would occasionally get called gay, was always being asked why I didn’t have a boyfriend - which I hardly ever did until my senior year - and would get shunned and shamed from friend groups because I was awkward and “too close” to my friends that were girls.

Funny enough, those bullies were right. I was SO gay. I was in love with my best girl friend, two of them actually, in high school. I was super awkward because instead of owning who I am, I was constantly trying to fit a mold that wasn’t made for me. I wore makeup thinking that I would fit in better. I wore clothes that made me blend in with the rest of the girls. I talked about guys in ways I heard other girls talk about them. I tried really hard to date boys and it never seemed to work out. I finally thought I had it figured out when I started dating a guy my senior year of high school that I then moved in with going into college. Oddly enough - he was the first person that knew I was gay, and we were in our sophomore year of high school when I told him.

The day I told him, it was pouring down rain and we were huddled in a dugout making out like you do when you are fifteen. I then ever so classically burst into tears. It took him a minute to notice because my face was already wet from the rain. When he finally did - he stopped kissing me right away and gave me space to go through the ugly process of realization. He was a very safe person, and someone I have always been grateful to have moved through the world with for as long as I did. He asked what was wrong, but never pressured me into telling him. I finally got up the nerve to look at him and say - I’m in love with my best friend. He knew exactly who I was talking about. He proceeded to wrap me up and hold me while I sobbed and told me that it was okay to feel that way and that he would try to help me change if that’s what I wanted.

I have never wanted something so much in my life.

Fast forward to our senior year. I had only been to a few school dances, and never to prom. That same sweet boy that was the only person in the world that held my deepest secret had never been to any school dances. He was a country boy and it wasn’t a thing they participated in. However, he knew I wanted to go and that I was devastated I had never been asked. And so he asked, and we went, and then ensued a long and happy relationship that led to us moving in together when I left town for college.

Things ended that same year for reasons that are only half my story to tell. So, in light of protecting his story, I’m going to leave mine off there - the end of my freshman year of college, and the end of our relationship.

I spent the next year going through one of the biggest transitions in my life. I found the outdoors. My time involved bouncing between classes with a dream of becoming a doctor, and spending weekends outside with a backpack on my back tromping through the woods and making friendships that will truly last a lifetime. As many of you know, the outdoors eventually won over, but that is a story for another time.

Somewhere between long days bushwhacking uphill in the pouring down rain, and time spent camping in snow shelters, I fell in love with - you guessed it - another girl. 

I had a gut wrenching moment in a van on the way back from one of our weekend outings when I finally came to terms with those two words - I’m gay. Everyone was asleep except for me, the girl I was falling for, and her front seat wing woman. They were great friends and in a deep conversation about relationships. I wasn’t close enough with either of them to participate in the conversation, but being the only person awake and sitting just behind them, it was hard not to listen in. You see, this girl that I had not realized I was falling in love with, was a bit androgynous. She dressed in a very gender neutral way, she wore mens jeans because she liked the fit, and always had a t-shirt on. The confusing thing about androgynous women in an outdoor setting is that most of the women in the outdoors look that way. With that being the case, I had tried very hard to not make assumptions about her sexuality.

In this conversation about relationships, the two of them were very careful to not use any pronouns. There was no he this or her that. Just they. I so badly wanted to know if this girl that I was falling in love with had been in a relationship with a him or a her. Looking back, it’s funny to think how naive I was in thinking those terms are so black and white.

Finally, one of them let it slip. 

In reference to her ex, the word “she” was let loose, and in that moment I was faced with a flood of emotions. Subconsciously I knew I had been in love with girls before, but this was the first time I had ever let myself truly accept the fact that I had fallen in love with one. I embraced the gut drop head over heels feeling I was experiencing, and for the first time faced it head on within myself. I’m sure I turned beet red. I remember being so grateful that I was sitting behind them and could pretend to stare out the window. I sat there the rest of the ride back to the school in a panic realizing that I was in love with a woman, and that I had always loved women, and would officially never be with a man again.

Things never did work out with her. We became friends and then became non-existent to each other and then became friends again. There were times I thought something more would come of that friendship but it was always stopped short by both of our insecurities and lack of ability to be vulnerable. That however is not only my story. So again, I will leave mine here - with a girl that I fell hard for but could never quite let myself love fully.

Now, six or so years after that wonderful and terrifying moment on interstate 5 in the back of a van, I am very much in love with a girl who loves me back just as much if not more. She has helped me be brave in ways I didn’t know I could be, and now I get to watch her help others do the same. Every time I move somewhere new, accepting who I am gets a little bit easier as I go through the slow process of coming out what feels like time and time again. People talk about announcing they are gay like it is a one and done deal, but from my experience it is an everlasting struggle to be brave and vulnerable and trusting.

And so I do it again, here, for you all who have taken the time to read this.

Some of you already know, lots of you have probably assumed, and many of you might be totally surprised. I hope that no matter which category you are in, you can hold this lightly and lovingly. Had those boys in middle school celebrated my strength, cheered for my successes, and accepted me for who I am, I may have been able to grow up as an openly gay person and help others who were struggling do the same. Instead I was shut down, and ended up being one of those that struggled and continue to struggle with who I am, even now as I type this.

There are lots of things that I do everyday that many people think are brave - climbing mountains, self launching my kite, publishing my vlog (which you should definitely go check out and subscribe to - Michaela Pilkenton Stay Wild), moving halfway across the world, and the list goes on. I have to admit though, while it takes bravery to do those things, and I will hopefully share some more exciting bravery stories with you in the future, accepting, owning, and loving who I am and allowing myself to love a girl to the fullest of my ability has been the most brave thing I have ever done.

I hope this inspires all of you to own who you are and love yourself. I hope you are inspired to love big, love often, and love in any way that feels right to you.

With so much love for you all,

Michaela