- I experienced debilitating pain from osteoarthritis and degenerative disc disease.
- I also dealt with depression while I was married to my husband, as I knew I liked women.
When I finally found the courage to admit I was gay, I had lived with constant, chronic pain for over a decade. I hadn't considered the possibility that my chronic condition and waning mental health might be intertwined with the part of me I'd hidden away since childhood.
Coming out at 50 was freeing and exciting, but I didn't anticipate my decision's remarkable effect on my overall physical and mental health. It's been a decade, and I couldn't be more grateful for the relief that living authentically has brought me.
For most of my adult life I lived a lie
Since childhood I've known I was different, but I never felt the acceptance of those around me to open up about my feelings. When I realized I was attracted to people of the same sex, I felt ashamed.
In college I got involved with an evangelical student group, hoping that religion might course-correct my longing to be with a woman. In my early 20s, as an attempt to fit in, I resigned myself to living as a straight woman. I married a nice man, had three children, and got deeply involved with our evangelical church, but I couldn't get rid of the deep emptiness inside me.
I did my best to be a good Christian wife but couldn't keep myself from imagining what it would be like to be with a woman. My life felt fractured, and my mental health suffered as I fell in and out of depression — and then the physical pain began.
My body and my marriage started to deteriorate
My chronic pain started with a sore neck but progressed to more severe symptoms like frequent migraines, arm numbness, and joint pain. Eventually I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis, which is when the cartilage that protects the ends of bones wears down, and degenerative disc disease, which is when the joints in the spine wear out. The pain intensified until I was barely able to move.
My marriage and my pain spiraled in tandem. My doctor prescribed fentanyl patches and fentanyl lollipops — both of which are opioids and come with a high risk of addiction. I spent most of my days in bed. After several months of heavy medication, I was referred to a gifted pain specialist and underwent several procedures. I finally began experiencing some relief from my raging pain.
There was no relief, however, from the deterioration of my marriage. We tried speaking with our pastor and seeing a therapist, but no amount of counseling changed the truth: I was gay. I felt trapped and without hope. My depression worsened, and my physical pain fluctuated with my roller-coaster emotions.
Denying my sexuality became a heavy burden, so I knew I had to come out
As my three kids grew up, I often told them I would love them no matter who they were. I desperately wanted them to know they could live authentically, but I wasn't brave enough to do that myself. The magnitude of my decision to deny my sexuality finally became an emotional weight I couldn't carry.
One day, while my kids were at school, I found myself curled up on my closet floor, holding a bottle of pills, contemplating ending my life. The irony that I was in my closet was lost on me at the time. In a moment of clarity I thought of my children and knew I didn't want to leave them with a legacy of loss. I prayed for the courage to break free and admit to others that I was gay.
I decided to come out of the closet that day, and despite my fear I chose to live authentically. I had no idea if I could hold a job or support myself financially. I wasn't sure I could manage my chronic pain alone. But I knew my life depended on me finally exposing the truth of my sexuality.
I found a therapist who helped me through the process of telling my family I was gay. Divorcing my husband and coming out was both challenging and liberating, and the relief I felt at not having to hide was intoxicating.
I found an excellent job, and my confidence grew with each challenge I navigated. I felt seen and validated for the first time in my life, and my newfound authenticity was exhilarating to experience.
Curiously, as my new life unfolded, I noticed my pain and depression were receding.
I didn't realize coming out at 50 would be good for my overall health
Coming out and living authentically significantly impacted my health. I no longer need medication for depression, and my overall pain level has decreased. My doctor weaned me off fentanyl patches, and my pain is now managed with a lower-strength medication.
I not only provided for myself financially but thrived in a healthcare management position for 11 years before my retirement in 2021. Best of all, I fell in love with a fantastic woman, and we tied the knot in 2014.
Since validating myself as a gay woman more than a decade ago, I have watched my emotional and physical well-being soar.