My Journey Through Pride, Panic, and Unexpected Love
A story of love, confusion, heartbreak, and self-discovery. This Pride Month, I’m opening up about my journey with sexuality—the messy, beautiful, and painful parts—and the truth I had to face to stay true to myself. You’re not alone. Keep listening inward.
So… this is an article that feels very personal, so please bear with me.
It’s Pride Month, and I felt compelled to share my experience with discovering and exploring my sexuality. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been attracted to both men and women. My parents have even told me stories about how I used to kiss boys and girls equally (please don’t judge, I was too young to even remember).
I’ve always been pretty open when it comes to talking about sex. My parents never tried to shield me from the topic or rely on metaphors like “the birds and the bees.” They were direct, honest, and always willing to answer my endless questions.
As I got older, I started noticing that whenever I watched a movie, I’d admire both women and men. My parents were even a little surprised by how often I commented on women’s beauty. During my teenage years, I had a few intimate experiences with friends, which I know is pretty common among girls. Still, I often wondered: Could I be in a relationship with a woman?
In my mid twenties, I found out the answer was no.
I met her during my last semester of college. She was five years younger than me, which made the whole thing even more surprising. I started feeling something every time she walked into the classroom, a spark I had only ever felt toward men. She was smart, funny, and had a kind heart. That made the attraction even stronger.
And that’s when my world started to shake. I began questioning everything. Could I build a future with a woman? Could I start a family? My beliefs, my goals, my idea of what life would look like, all of it felt uncertain. And yes, it was terrifying.
A few months after I started developing feelings, she invited me to her birthday party. Of course I went. I was nervous, excited, and I overdid it with the shots. I got wasted. Most of the night is a blur, but I do remember one thing: we made out for a very long time.
After that, we started texting. Things moved quickly. It was new, exciting, intense, and soon enough, we were officially a couple.
That said, it ended up being the shortest relationship I’ve ever had. Because I realized pretty quickly that it wasn’t for me.
A couple of weeks later, we went on a trip with her group of friends. That’s where I met her best friend, someone I wasn’t expecting to affect me in the way he did. We spent the week dancing, drinking, smoking a little weed, your typical carefree summer break. But underneath all of it, something else was happening.
I started to feel a shift. I realized I wasn’t in love with her anymore. And the worst part? It was her best friend who helped me realize that. He joked about how much I probably missed being with a man, and, painfully, I started to agree with him.
He stirred something in me that I didn’t want to face, but couldn’t ignore. I tried to convince myself I was still in love. That I could build a future with her. But I couldn’t.
The night before we returned home, we got high, and it hit me hard. Weed doesn’t usually sit well with me, and I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life. It felt like the truth was pushing its way out of me, like I couldn’t hold it in any longer, it felt like I was about to have a heart attack, the word vomit was coming out. I told her I needed to talk. Right then.
And I broke her heart.
I’m not proud of how I handled that moment. If I could go back, I would do it differently. But at the time, it felt like my body was screaming for relief, and the only way to find it was to speak the truth. I wasn’t happy, and I couldn’t keep lying to her or to myself.
To this day, I have dreams where I bump into her. In those dreams, I can feel her anger, her hurt. And I don’t blame her.
A week later, and I know how this sounds, I went to visit my sister, who was living on an island near Cancún. That’s where I met Ian, my husband. One week after ending my only relationship with a woman.
I know this story might not paint me as the best person in the world. But I’m sharing it because I know there are others out there navigating confusing, painful, and unpredictable journeys of self discovery.
If that’s you, I just want you to know you’re not alone. It’s okay for things to get messy. It’s okay to not have all the answers right away. Listening to your body and your inner voice is more important than anyone’s opinion.
Staying true to myself meant hurting someone I deeply cared about, and that’s something I’ll always carry. But I also knew that relationship had no future. I ended it not because I stopped caring, but because it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us to keep going.
Wherever she is, I hope she’s found someone who loves her deeply and unconditionally. Because she deserves that, and so much more.
If there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s that clarity doesn’t always come in a straight line. Sometimes, we have to walk through uncertainty, heartbreak, and discomfort to arrive at a deeper truth about who we are. And that’s okay. Be gentle with yourself as you figure it out. Give yourself permission to change your mind, to ask questions, and to grow in directions you didn’t expect. Love is a path of discovery, and the most important part is learning to honor your own along the way.
Regina Zuniga
The Skin Deep Digital Content Specialist
