Did She Really Not Know She Was Gay?

Nope... because: religious trauma.

A brief confession, and acceptance of any karma due to me: I used to be highly skeptical of late-in-life queer awakenings (*cringe!!*). Back when Glennon Doyle was falling in love with Abby Wambach and leaving her husband to be gay, I was the one with raised eyebrows, with a “really??” expression on my face, who doubted she could really be a lesbian when she had been full-out married to a man and had multiple children with him.

HOW EMBARRASSING FOR ME.

So clearly, my mind has been changed quite a bit — nothing like some personal experiences to soften your stance, eh?? — but because of where I began, I totally understand if people would judge this situation. Everyone has been kind to my face, but I figured I would write an educational post for the quiet skeptics, for the “that’s not polite to ask someone!” wonderers, for those perplexed by their loved ones, or anyone going through this themselves.

To reiterate one more time… I genuinely had NO FLIPPING IDEA I was gay. Is sexuality fluid? Yes. Could I have been bi in my teens and 20s, and shifted to prefer women as I got older? Also yes. But do I think I was probably a closeted lesbian all along? Honestly, I do.

Columbus, Ohio Pride 2026

So how do you just… not know that?

Not to beat a dead horse here on this blog but the most comprehensive answer is, again, RELIGIOUS TRAUMA.

Reason 1: Internalized homophobia

I was taught extremely explicitly when I was growing up that homosexuality was a sin or a mental illness and something that could be healed with God’s help. I encountered precious few gay people growing up, so that plus the indoctrination made gayness a very “not me” idea. My job, being born in a female body, was to find a good Christian man to marry and to raise some good Christian kids.

My gay awakening happened in college as a sophomore when I fell hard for a female professor, but was so ashamed of myself I buried the feelings and wrote them off as mental illness. Surely it was just a side effect of the depression I was also going through that year (or was I extra depressed because I had realized something important about myself that I was having to deny?). I wrote in my journal, clear as day, “AM I A HOMOSEXUAL??”

Imagine a life where that could have been an admission, a realization, a self-discovery, instead of a horrible secret to repress. I was absolutely terrified of the possibility of being a lesbian, and begged God to take the feelings from me. I felt ashamed, disgusting, mortified, afraid…and so damn full of longing. I eventually moved on from that professor when I had no more classes with her, but my crushes on women continued.

In college, I actively explored the idea that it wasn’t a sin to be gay. I took a class with a friend where I watched a music group of gay Christian men perform, and attempted to stretch my theology to fit a reality where one could be gay and devoutly Christian at the same time. I attended a film screening that unpacked and redefined the seven main “clobber verses” of the Bible used to promote the idea being LGBTQ+ is a sin. I even wrote an entire paper in a religious studies class about how it might be okay to be gay and evangelical at the same time.

Unfortunately, the internalized homophobia ran so deep that I could only imagine the possibility for other people, not myself. I couldn’t even own being bisexual until my mid-thirties, despite mounting evidence to the contrary.

Reason 2: Women as purity culture gatekeepers

In evangelical purity culture, girls were taught that we were the ones responsible for curbing men’s sexual impulses. We were assumed to have little interest in sex aside from doing it to obtain love in the stereotyped “Men want respect, women want love” kind of way (don’t get me started on that). Girls’ jobs were to dress modestly and avoiding tempting our brothers (or our fathers… read D.L. Mayfield and their Substack for deep dives into pedophile culture and evangelicalism).

One variable that muddied my waters of self-understanding was that I assumed my feelings of fear and repulsion around men had more to do with my religious upbringing that men “only want one thing” and my job was to be constantly on guard against them. Men made me uncomfortable and I had a lot of ambivalence around physical relationships with them. I assumed that was relics of purity culture and fears about pregnancy, and shrugged off my discomfort as perfectly normal for a straight woman.

The only men I tolerated being in a long-term relationship with were the ones who were not very physically interested in me. This unconscious strategy seemed to allow me to protect myself from unwanted advances while holding me in a pattern of never feeling good enough or desirable enough. And since I’d always been taught in church and society that “all” men are always lustful and ready to get it on, I took it extremely personally that something was wrong with me when that myth turned out to be false. Sadly, this uncomfortable dance — trying to be desired by someone I didn’t actually desire — earned me a lot of psychological damage. I wanted to be wanted so that I could feel validated, attractive, desirable, worthy. But if a man showed actual untamed desire towards me, it made me freak out and want to run the other direction.

This might be worthy of a longer post, but another thing that inhibited my self-understanding is that my expression of sexuality is the more archetypal feminine energy: I want to be noticed, desired, pursued. Turns out I just want it from a woman, not a man!

Reason 3: Shutting down our intuition, emotions, and desires

Evangelicalism explicitly told us to not trust our emotions and to shut down our desires and impulses. The body is not to be trusted. Emotions will lead you astray. Lean not on your own understanding, but look to God for every answer! I learned very effectively how to ignore what my body or heart was telling me. I tend to be a pretty rational, goal-oriented person, and it turns out I was very skilled at just doing what I thought I was “supposed to” and totally tuning out how it made me feel.

I was so afraid of the trouble that might come from a relationship with a boy that in college, I didn’t date anybody. I crushed on some guys that seemed like good marriage material: kind, religious, emotionally stable. But when I look back on it, I realize I wanted their attention, I wanted them to see me as a good potential mate… but I wasn’t attracted to them. I wanted their attention, their validation, and the feeling of being chosen. Excitement came from the idea of being wanted by them, not because I was excited by their physical self.

I never understood why women were attracted to conventionally hot men, as I found them quite off-putting. I figured I just had quirky taste. I also figured that everyone finds women’s bodies interesting and attractive… because they just are, right? It didn’t cross my mind that what I was feeling was indicative of anything else, because it didn’t fall into the rational mold I was given of “Find a man, marry, have kids.” Emotions? Physical desire? I learned to shut those down a long time ago. I was a “good girl,” not a rebellious or avant-garde type, so surely there was nothing about my sexual orientation that would be anywhere out of the heteronormative mold.

Girls Like Girls

I watched this movie recently and bawled my eyes out about the coming of age, queer awakening story of two teenage girls. It was set 20 years ago, and really made me wonder what life could have been like if only I’d been given a narrative that it’s okay and normal to be gay, instead of something to be ashamed of and hide. Imagine the people I wouldn’t have to hurt to get to be my true self now. Imagine experiencing real romantic love and mutual attraction before the age of 37. But on the other hand... I treasure every part of my journey because it’s mine and has led me to where I am today.

And even if being gay becomes my whole personality for a couple of years here, I’m going to lean into it because it’s the stories and bravery of queer folks who came before me that have made me brave enough to step into this life I’m leading today!