Dear Queer Abby,
Is it normal to grieve the life you could have had if you had realized you were a lesbian sooner? I’m working through feelings of grief and anger and feeling cheated out of what my life should or could have been. I met and instantly fell in love with my girlfriend at 36 (and accepted my gayness then too). I’ve never been happier or felt more like the truest version of myself. And I am so grateful and lucky to have my two kids. But I can’t help but feel so sad that I spent such a large portion of my life being someone I’m not. Any advice on how to move through it?
Grieving in Grand Rapids
Dear friend,
First off, congratulations on embracing your authentic self, finding love, and winning the gay lottery at 36! You’ve joined a club filled with late bloomers, queer queens, and “Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda” alumni. We don’t have a secret handshake (yet), but we do have a lot of feelings, and I can tell you’re swimming in them right now. So let’s wade through this together.
Let’s Name It: Queer Grief
What you’re experiencing is a real phenomenon called “queer grief”. While queer grief comes in many forms and happens for a multitude of reasons, there is a form of mourning for the life you could have lived if you’d come out sooner. Studies show that queer people who come out later in life often grapple with feelings of regret and missed opportunities. It's like realizing you’ve been playing Mario Cart for years on a boring course, when Rainbow Road was available to you the entire time. Mama mia!
The good news? Research also shows that queer folks who come out later in life often feel happier and more fulfilled than their closeted counterparts, because they’ve finally aligned with their true selves. So yes, you’ve traded a few chapters of your life for the plot twist, but wow, what a twist it is!
Grieving the “What-Ifs”
Grief for your past doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful for your present. It just means you’re human (and likely have a great Spotify playlist for emotional wallowing). Let yourself sit with those feelings, but don’t let them unpack and move in. Journaling can help—write a letter to your younger self and tell her all the things you wish she’d known. Spoiler alert: She’d be really proud of where you are now.
Reframe Your Journey
Imagine this: If you’d realized you were gay sooner, you wouldn’t have your kids, and you wouldn’t have met your girlfriend when you were both ripe and ready for a love like this. Timing isn’t everything, but it’s a lot. (It’s also why queer people love drag shows—they’re perfectly timed acts of joy and self-expression.)
Instead of grieving the years you weren’t out, try celebrating the years you are out. That’s where the magic is happening. You’re not late; you’re just fashionably on time.
Practical Tools for Moving Through It
Find Your People: Talk to other late bloomers. There are online communities and support groups full of people who know exactly what you’re feeling. Pro tip: They’ll also validate that coming out is worth it at any age.
Practice Self-Compassion: According to research, self-compassion helps people process regret and move forward. Treat yourself like you would a friend who’s just come out—cheer her on and remind her she’s fabulous.
Therapy Is Queer-Friendly: An LGBTQIA+ affirming therapist can help you unpack those layers of grief and anger while ensuring you don’t get stuck in them.
Celebrate Your Gayness: Throw a “Coming Out 2.0” party, even if it’s just you, your girlfriend, and a rainbow cake or bowl of Froot Loops. Because why not? You’ve earned it.
A Loving Reminder
Your past shaped you, but it doesn’t define you. You are here now, living your truth, kissing your girlfriend, and being a badass queer parent. That’s worth more than all the what-ifs in the world.
With so much love,
I could so relate to this one! I realize I wouldn't have met my partner and my life wouldn't have ended up this way if I had known earlier. It feels like everything worked as it should. Better late than never (I hate saying this cliche!).
One thing I've spent a lot of time working through in the past year or so is to integrate every aspect of what was once a hugely compartmentalized life into a cohesive whole, and that includes the journey I took to get here, with no embellishments, edits, filter or varnish. It remains an important part of an identity which I have come to love very much.