Coming Out As a Late In Life Lesbian

A beacon of hope for the questioning

I decided to not bury the lede with this post — nothing coy or mysterious about today’s title! This post is borne out of my life experiences, and I hope it can be a beacon of hope, a signal, or a sign to anyone else who has shared these questions and uncertainties. I was brave enough to come out because of queer people in my life who were boldly living their lives or holding my hand along my journey: may we find and be the community we need for each other.

I first became conscious of my attraction to women at 19 years old, when I developed a massive, consuming crush on an (in hindsight) very lesbian college professor. As an evangelical, I was so ashamed of myself — not about the professor part, but about the gay part! — journaling “Am I a homosexual? … My dad can never, ever know.” I chalked it up to depression, to life stress, to a brief passing phase. It was most definitely not because I was gay.

I didn’t date in college and afterward, exclusively dated men. I had life goals: I wanted to get married, hopefully before age 30, and I wanted to have children. What I was looking for in those relationships was validation, someone who loved me, and a traditional life path that felt safe. I knew I wasn’t really attracted to any of the men I dated, but due to my evangelical programming, I didn’t think that was important. After all… Marriage is hard work! Marriage makes you holy, not happy! You can develop love and attraction for someone over time! And I did love them the best that I could, and longed to be loved in ways that felt comforting and familiar. I chose partners because of their character, and I married because I could envision a life with this person that felt stable, secure, and safe.

29 year old Christine, using the information she had about herself and relationships at the time, was making solid choices: she just didn’t know how much more there was out there.

Despite me wanting to believe that there was “nothing to see here” with my crush on a woman, my feelings did not get the memo, and I consistently had attractions and crushes for the next 18 years. I didn’t take the chances I could have had, and then I couldn’t act on the feelings I had. But it seems my subconscious was carefully, wisely showing me my true feelings in ways that were safe to me: inaccessible people but an awareness I could no longer deny.

After emerging from the postpartum haze with my second child, and knowing I was done having children, the knocking on my heart and desires grew louder and louder. I had acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual (but very closeted), but it became more “tortured bisexual.” I watched my lesbian couple friends (and I had many!) with envy and longing, wishing for that kind of connection. I wondered if I would ever have a chance at a relationship with a woman. I wondered if my next reincarnation, I would get to lead a lesbian life. I assumed that because my marriage was “good enough,” and because he hadn’t really done anything wrong, there was not enough reason to end it.

I tried to make up for an unnamable grief in my love life by throwing myself into all the other parts of my life: rich friendships; two young children; a fulfilling career, a hobby (running) that I was passionate about. I tried to let it be enough.

It wasn’t enough.

The synchronicities required in 2025 to lead me to where I am today still stun me. After two more years of driving myself mad with unfulfilled longing, forces aligned in my 37th year to help shake me conscious. I began an intensive IFS (Internal Family Systems) training that helped me begin to change how I related to myself, and learn how to tap into a deep, grounded knowing that could move with clarity, confidence, and courage. IFS also helped heal parts of me that had shut down emotionally and parts that were afraid to want more from life.

A chance (or I would argue, fated!!) tarot card reading with a good friend dropped a hammer on my psyche. I confessed my “tortured bisexual” feelings to her and she offhandedly remarked, “Oh, my friend thought you were a lesbian!” I broke down and sobbed, feeling like I was just handed a permission slip to perhaps be myself and lead a life I had until then believed was out of reach.

I began to come out to others in June and July of 2025, including my spouse, including a conversation about ending our marriage. Each step I took that involved possibly upsetting someone scared the shit out of me but I did it anyway. It might sound mystical or woowoo, but I felt guided by spiritual forces outside myself: perhaps spirit guides, perhaps my Higher Self’s connection to something greater than myself. I got anxious and scared and I doubted myself, but each time I centered back down to listen to my Self, I heard the same answer. This is real. This is true. You are allowed to do this. There’s a deep knowing that’s hard to describe unless you’ve felt it yourself. I felt it in my core, in my chest: peace, intuition, clarity (about myself, not the whole path forward), compassion. It was often accompanied by tears, partially of grief but mostly relief and the feeling of finally seeing myself.

Coming out this late in life (and age 37 happened to align precisely with my North Node’s return, for any astrology buffs out there) brings up a lot of questions. How did I not know this? If I had crushes on men, doesn’t that mean I was straight? Or at least bisexual? If I married a man and reproduced with him…I couldn’t possibly be a lesbian, right?

One of only two useful things ChatGPT has done for me was help me realize my experiences were, in fact, very common for late in lifers like myself. I chatted with Chat in late July 2025 and the whole “conversation” was a sobfest for me, so let this be your non-AI chat if you need it.

For queer women raised in repressive, homophobic religious environments, it’s actually very common to not know this about yourself. As an evangelical, I was taught that my attraction was irrelevant, and that as a woman, I didn’t really experience sexual attraction like men did (False!). I assumed that the sexual desire I felt (which I confused with sexual attraction to men!) meant that I was straight. It was doubly confusing because I felt either afraid of or turned off by men’s attraction to me, but I chalked this up to religious trauma influences and negative messaging about men and their untamed desires. Not because, as it turns out, I don’t actually want men to be attracted to me.

It also turns out that even though you can change your homophobic beliefs and leave a repressive religious environment, the internalized homophobia doesn’t necessarily leave you. My closest friends are all queer, and I loved that for them…but was scared of what it meant for myself. I was an enthusiastic “ally” but I was also afraid, and so closeted.

Outside the religious piece, compulsory heterosexuality (“comphet”) is a powerful force. Comphet trains us to expect straight relationships. I wanted marriage and children, so I needed to find a man who would want me to be his wife. (Note the passive stance, right!?) My crushes on girls were just “friend crushes,” while my crushes on males were surely 🙄 romantic crushes. Women are told we need to seek male attention and perform for the male gaze. I was never very good at either of those — and now I understand why!

Emotional repression played a huge role too. My entire adult life I have been trying to heal that part of myself and have my intellectualizing parts let my emotions out of their cages. I “thought” my way into relationships, into a marriage. I did what seemed to make sense. Romantic movies and plotlines never connected with me: romance seemed dumb and far-fetched. Honestly, I didn’t even understand what being “in love” really felt like. I just figured that was something that wasn’t ever going to be important to me.

Part of what IFS enabled for me was letting myself want, and desire. I let myself believe it wasn’t bad to do that. Then I made conscious choices to rearrange my life to the point where I got to experience what having more feels like. And now… I understand why romance stories exist. It feels like I was always meant to be with a woman, and I have zero doubts about that. Everything makes sense now in a way it didn’t before.

I feel so much more whole, confident, and authentic in my new life as my new (but same!) self. It’s the hardest and most courageous I’ve ever done. This choice required me to massively disappoint people in my life to stay true to the voice inside that steadily, persistently called me forward. I trust that following truth like that will ultimately end up being what’s best for everyone, and I made every choice along this journey with as much love as I could muster, hoping to put a little more healing and goodness into the world.

With so much love from your grateful late-in-life lesbian,

Christine