We all feel different in some way. Most of us spend years trying to fit in, shrinking, shifting, and second-guessing instead of embracing what makes us unique.
Being gay is certainly no exception.
So, in honor of Pride Month, I want to share my story… one that’s personal, imperfect, and deeply rooted in the journey of coming home to myself.
Pride month isn’t just about glitter and rainbows, although, let’s be honest, we deserve glitter and rainbows. It’s about safety. And for so many of us, it’s about finally coming home to who we really are.
I used to think I was bi. That was my truth for a long time. When I was in preschool, I told my mom I liked boys and girls. At the time, she thought I meant just as friends. Maybe I did, but by the time I was around seven, I told her again, this time saying I thought both boys and girls were cute… but girls were a little prettier.
She didn’t make a big deal about it. Her exact response? “Okay, you can like whoever you want to like.” Because she was so unbothered, I thought it must be normal. I thought everyone felt like that.
And maybe more people do than we realize.
Even though all my friends knew I liked girls too, I still chased boys’ attention, especially the popular ones. All the other girls did that, and I wanted so badly to fit in. I struggled to fit in in school, not because of who I thought was cute but because I was the weird but really nice girl. But that’s a story for a different newsletter.
Looking back, all the signs were there: the best-friend crushes, the butterflies, the fascination with women who didn’t care what men thought. I should have known. But, I didn’t have a real example of what a lesbian was until sixth grade. When I met a girl who only liked girls. I was intrigued! (Probably another sign)
🦋🪽The Truth That Set Me Free🪽🦋
I didn’t have to “come out” as bi. It just felt like part of who I was; my mom had already affirmed that. But coming out as gay? That was something else entirely. Sure, I didn’t feel like I needed to come out to the new friends I was making. It was pretty much, “Hi, I’m Leticia; I like women.” LOL… Coming out to my husband and his family was rough. We are still working on telling his parents, actually. 😬
As many of you know from previous newsletters, I was married to a man… someone I respected and loved deeply. At this time, I believed I was bisexual. I thought I could love him the way he loved me. But something inside me shifted when I found out I couldn’t have children.
That loss, that grief, forced me to face what I had been avoiding. The touch of a man made me feel sick. I thought something was wrong with me. I spent years in therapy, wondering if I was broken. Was I traumatized? Was it the grief of infertility? Was I running away from something painful? Or was I finally seeing myself clearly?
Eventually, I realized I wasn’t broken. I was breaking free.
Coming home to myself meant leaving a marriage full of respect but not full of the kind of love that makes you feel alive. It meant grieving the family I thought I’d have. It meant hurting someone I never wanted to hurt.
But it also meant finally telling the truth, out loud, to others and, most importantly, to myself.
I still wrestle with guilt. I feel like I wasted my ex’s time and my “step” children’s time. They have never seen their dad be epically loved the way he deserved, the way he loves. But I also know that I did the most loving thing I could do: I told my truth.
💫 Hypnotherapy Helped Me Heal 💫
Talk therapy helped me process the grief of it all. Still, it was hypnotherapy that allowed me to truly let go of my compulsory heterosexuality. It shook off the “shoulds” and layers of other people’s expectations. That’s when the weight started to lift. The path ahead of me feels beautiful for the first time in a long time. Hypnotherapy gave me permission to soften. To stop questioning myself. To believe that my truth is divine, not damaged.
This is what I want for others as well, especially in this current climate.
❤️🔥 Why Pride Is Sacred – Especially Now
This year Pride feels heavier and more SACRED than ever before in my life. Because while we’re celebrating visibility and authenticity, the political landscape is scary.
In 2025 alone, over 850 anti-LGBTQIA+ bills have been introduced in the US.
These include but are not limited to:
- Bans on gender-affirming healthcare
- Restrictions on LGBTQIA+ topics in schools
- Laws punishing teachers for using a student’s correct pronouns
- State-level attempts to undermine marriage equality
Some states are even pushing the Supreme Court to reconsider the Obergefell v. Hodges decision, which federally legalized same-sex marriage. While the “Respect For Marriage Act” of 2022 currently protects those rights, these efforts could be the beginning of even more dangerous backsliding.
We’ve seen executive orders signed this year that aimed to erase federal recognition of trans identities, like Executive Order 14168, titled “Defending Women From Gender, Ideology Extremism,” which demands recognition of sex assigned at conception only. It basically tries to erase the existence of trans people at a federal level. That isn’t just scientifically inaccurate or policy; it’s dehumanizing.
We’ve seen Project 2025, a far-right agenda led by The Heritage Foundation, attempt to rewrite how the federal government defined sex, gender, and civil rights, all while removing anti-discrimination protections.
And we’ve seen the consequences:
- Corporate sponsorships are pulling out of pride events due to political pressure.
- LGBTQIA+ people canceling travel to the US due to safety concerns
- Small pride festivals underfunded and vulnerable
We’re marching. We’re celebrating. We’re raising flags and holding hands and showing up as ourselves in a world that tries to make a small.
I am lucky to live in California, where marriage equality has been written into our Constitution. But fear doesn’t care about borders. I still feel it; we all do.
That’s why Pride matters… not as a party but as a promise: we won’t go back into the closet just because the world is uncomfortable with our light.
🏳️🌈 To The Ones Who Aren’t Out (Yet)
If you’re not out yet, I see you. And I want you to know that you are still valid! Whether you’re underage and living with unsupportive parents or just not ready, it’s okay. You get to come out when it’s safe, when it’s right, and when you’re ready. There is no expiration date on your truth.
Maybe that means telling one trusted friend. Maybe it means whispering it into your journal. Maybe it just means saying to yourself, “I’m queer, and that’s Not a mistake!”
You’re not alone, even if it feels like you are.
Coming out can be scary. Thrilling. Messy. Healing. It’s different for everyone. And if someone tries to make you feel small for existing, remember this:
☀️ What Coming Home To Myself Looks Like
For me, “coming home” means finally living without hiding any part of me. It means knowing who I am and being proud of it! It means not shrinking myself for anyone. It means loving whoever I love, even if it doesn’t fit someone else’s mold, and knowing that love is never wrong when it’s real. I don’t need to earn the right to be accepted.
You deserve that kind of peace. You deserve that kind of you!
If you’re reading this and you’re scared, I get it. Trust me! But please know: there’s a whole community out here waiting to welcome you! Healing tools, like hypnotherapy, can help you soften internalized beliefs that aren’t yours to carry. There is power in your truth, even if you’re just starting to find the words.
You don’t have to do this alone!
We heal when we’re seen. We heal when we’re safe. We heal when we come home to ourselves. And you, my friend, deserve to feel at home in your skin.
So whether you’re out and loud, out and quiet, or not quite ready to be out at all, this Pride month, I hope you take one step closer to coming home to yourself.
🌟 You Are Worthy Of Peace. You Are Worthy Of Pride. You Are Worthy Of Love. You Are Worthy Of You! 🌟
