How do I come out: Owning my queerness

The image of a bipoc, queer, gender therapist in Vancouver to accompany a blog post about how do I come out, describing how someone's coming out journey — As we’re winding down this year, I find myself **reflecting a lot on my journey** both as a **counsellor** and as a **queer individual.**
It’s been **a long, hard journey**, but it’s been so incredibly worth it in so many ways.

Being able to guide and walk with youth and young adults

who are on their journey is one of the most fulfilling parts of my life.

But things haven’t always been easy.

That said, I want to take the opportunity to share some of my story, and to

answer the age-old question: How do I come out?

The image of a bipoc, queer, youth therapist in Vancouver to accompany a blog post about how do I come out, describing how someone's coming out journey as queer — Now, before I get too far into this story, **coming out is hard**.

I **didn’t come out until my 30s** and my age didn’t make it any easier. But it did **give me a lot of opportunity to reflect, understand, and accept a lot more about myself** than I ever thought possible.

Which I share during my sessions when I help youth and young adults with their journey.

What I can tell you is there is no simple way to announce to the world that you’re queer.

At least not yet.

So let’s talk about how to come out.

Let’s talk about what it means to see your past and look toward your future. Over the next few installments of my blog, I’m going to walk you through my learnings, observations, and personal experiences in hopes of making coming out a little less scary.

How do I come out: My life before me

I grew up in a fairly conservative household surrounded by family. I grew up knowing that I was accepted and loved, but there was always something there in the background that made me different.

At the time - and for many, many years - I didn’t know what that difference truly was.

And truthfully, I was scared to try and understand it. Growing up in a community-oriented culture, I gotta say that I did not get much insight about queerness. They kind of skip that chapter completely.

So how was I to know? How was I too truly understand who I was when there was no one to guide me?

I couldn’t. I lived life in a haze of accepting my place in the world and shoving down that part of me screaming inside my head.

It was lonely. Alienating.

But I had friends. I had a life that made me happy. It was just… lacking something.

How do I come out: Learning to let go

Now there’s no way I could have known that as a teen.

But it’s a piece of wisdom that I want to share with anyone who reads this or comes to my practice.

I left home after high school on a quest to answer “How do I find myself”.

And even though I had left home, I always came back to visit. But I had to understand that restlessness inside.

Looking back, I had the question wrong at this point in my life, but at least “How do I find myself?” turned into “how do I come out?

But it was a process.

That time I spent trying to figure things out translated into an internal reflection.

Because acknowledging my queerness meant that I was able to start moving forward.

I used to be a Catholic. And one thing I've learned is that it’s that being queer and Catholic hasn't always been an easy path.

The image of red and yellow balls with a question mark in the middle of it to accompany a blog post about how do I come out, describing how someone's coming out journey as queer — **It was at this point that I felt the most lost.**
On the one hand, **I’d taken that first step to admitting things to myself**.
But **what that looked like for the world I interacted with was a whole other story**.
It was so **CONFLICTING**.

How do I come out **when I know that people won’t understand?**
How do I come out **when I'm worried I won’t be accepted?**
How do I come out **when my life feels like a house of cards, ready to collapse?**

I asked myself these questions a lot. But, I made peace with the knowledge that I could not control others. I can only control the part I play in this story - which for a 20-something is terrifying.

I knew that accepting my queerness meant accepting that some people in my life would not be there for me after I told them my truth.

And they did.

Friends walked away.

The church didn’t hold space for me.

Not everyone in my immediate family understand.

It took a while to accept that this was my new reality. And I keenly felt the pain and the anguish of starting over. I went through the motions of being upset, wanting to take it back, pretending like I hadn’t just torn apart a huge part of my life.

But I was also living abroad on my own, creating new connections and making new friends who didn’t fixate on my queerness like it was an obstruction.

How do I come out: I lied to myself

I know I’m not the only one who has come out and experienced a disbelieving “How could you lie about that”. Like I’m Nathan telling King David a story about a man taking that which is not his, only for it to expose the King’s crimes and hypocrisy (2 Samuel 12:1-13).

For a long time, I could not have answered questions about my queerness openly or honestly. And it had nothing to do with a desire to lie and everything to do with self-preservation. Protection.

For over 20 years, I didn’t understand who I was, and for five years, I was terrified about what would happen when I finally opened my protective shell and admitted the truth.

All this to say, I understand your need to keep quiet about your queerness and identity.

It's hard to feel to be scared to let go of the familiar safety and comfort of your life.

But I also know how rewarding it is – of course, because hindsight is 20/20 – to come out and accept who you are.

And really, the answer that I have for anyone who was upset that I lied: I am too. I’m sorry I lied to myself.

What can you learn from my experience?

I want to start by saying that when it comes to coming out, it should be done on your terms.

Don’t let anyone rush your process.

When I was younger, I would have given anything to have someone I could trust to talk to.

It would have made my life so much easier to be able to talk through all my worries or brace myself for the harsh words cast in my direction.

There are so many ways to feel ashamed of yourself when are queer. So many ways to feel lost and alone. But there are also so many ways to flourish and become a beautiful, confident amazing human being (secret: you already are this last one, you just have to believe it!).

Having someone to talk to is key.

Years later, I’ve helped youths and young adults walk this path and figure out the words they need. I’ve been there to quell fear and soothe anxieties. Because my story didn’t have that.

However, I did come out later, after years of self-exploration and schooling for psychology. I understand the implications of coming out in families with different belief systems. I know what it means to need support.

Well, being queer for me has been about surrounding myself with people who can look beyond my queerness to the person I am. Being queer isn’t my personality and it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a foodie, that I laugh loudly, that I like hiking and reading.

What’s next? My friends, this story isn’t over.

Stay tuned for my discussion on having faith while being queer.

It’s not as easy as you think.

**Hello, I’m Nita Agustin**
Registered Clinical Counsellor based in Burnaby, BC

My jam is helping curious and questioning queer youth and young adults move from confusion to clarity.
Most of my clients shared feeling overwhelmed by the messages the world told them how they’re supposed to be. They do not want to be defined by what society told them about themselves.
In our work together, I guide clients in figuring out who they are, who they want to be, and how to get there. We do this by processing how their past impacted the way they live out their life today. From our work together, I noticed clients develop better self-awareness and experience improved quality of life as they can show up differently in their relationships.
I offer virtual and in-person sessions in Brentwood, North Burnaby. In the summer I also offer walk-and-walk in Confederation Park.
I am licensed to practise in BC, as well as all across Canada, so I support clients all over BC, all the way from Vancouver to Kitimat. Other than working with clients who reside in BC, I also can support clients who reside in Yukon Territories, Northwest Territories, Nunavut, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and Newfoundland.
Check out my About me page to learn more about what I do and have to offer for you. Also, explore my Services page to see how I can guide you in making shifts in your life today. If you feel ready to discover ways to live life on your own terms, I welcome you to book an initial intake session. I am so stoked to meet you and start figuring out how you can show up as your best self!

Throughout this pandemic, I witnessed telehealth virtual sessions become more of a norm, and it has been super transformative seeing clients can access mental health services from the comfort of their home.

There are lots of different stereotypes out there, and society tells us who we are supposed to be and what we are supposed to do in the world. It can feel very overwhelming and confusing to compare our personal experience against those ideas. The thing is, you no longer have to be defined by what society tells you. It is your life to live, and you get to decide who get a say about your life.