Healing Queer Shame in Therapy: My Coming Out Story at 35
Pride is more than a parade—it’s a reckoning. A return. A remembering of who you’ve always been.
Hi, I’m Raquel Perez—a licensed therapist, sex and relationship counselor, and the founder of Intima Couples and Sex Therapy PLLC. I specialize in helping individuals and couples navigate identity, intimacy, anxiety, and emotional healing. But today, I want to share something more personal—my own coming out story.
Because for so many queer adults—especially those of us who came out later in life—Pride is less about glitter and rainbows and more about reckoning with the parts of ourselves we once hid. It’s about healing queer shame, grieving what was lost, and reclaiming our right to take up space.
This is my story. And maybe, in some way, it’s yours too.
Growing Up Invisible: “A Gay Person Living as a Straight One”
I didn’t come out until I was 35.
Someone once described themselves as “a gay person living as a straight one,” and I’ve never forgotten that phrase. It encapsulated exactly how I felt for so long.
I grew up as a young brown girl in a deeply religious home. In that world, I didn’t see examples of queer joy. I didn’t know what it meant to be both queer and loved, queer and safe, queer and seen.
I longed for things like family, stability, and deep connection
—but I didn’t believe those were things available to me if I fully showed up as myself. So I did what many of us do: I hid. I played the role. I lived a life that didn’t quite fit, and I wondered why nothing in relationships ever felt quite right.
Eventually, after a few difficult breakups, I decided maybe I just wasn’t meant for love. But the truth? I hadn’t met myself yet.
Early Signals and Silencing: What I Buried to Belong
Looking back, there were signs.
I remember being around 13 and spending time with one of my gay aunts and her friends. Something stirred inside me—a deep sense of familiarity and resonance.
But I buried it. I didn’t even let myself explore what it meant.
Because the messages I had absorbed were loud: being gay didn’t mean safety. It didn’t mean love. It certainly didn’t mean a future I could imagine for myself. So I shut it down—without even knowing I was doing it.
This is what queer shame often looks like. It’s quiet. Internal. It’s the rewriting of who you are just to survive in systems that don’t recognize you.
Coming Out in Layers: The Long Road Home
I began coming out at 35. But it didn’t happen all at once.
The first person I told was my sister.
Then, slowly, I shared with my kids, who were teenagers at the time. I said things like, “If I ever get into another relationship, I know it won’t be with a man.”
Even saying that much felt huge. I hadn’t yet said the words “I’m queer” out loud—but my truth was beginning to surface.
Then something shifted when I was 39. My cousin, who’s also gay, invited me to a gay club. I’d been before—but that night was different. Before I left, my sister said, “Be whoever you want to be out there. Don’t hold back.”
And I didn’t.
That night, I allowed myself to show up fully. I danced. I laughed. I took up space as my whole self—for the first time.
That night, I also met someone special: a woman my age, who is now my partner of four years. She saw me. She accepted me. She held space for all of me to exist.
Therapy and the Reckoning That Comes with Pride
Coming out wasn’t just about sharing the truth with others—it was about finally telling the truth to myself.
It meant grieving the years I lived in silence. It meant hard, honest conversations with my family. And it meant making a promise: I will not abandon myself again.
This is the heart of what I do as a therapist. Because I know—intimately—that queer healing is layered. Coming out isn’t a one-time event. It’s a lifelong process of healing internalized shame, unlearning fear, and rebuilding your relationship with your truth.
In my therapy practice, I work with clients navigating this exact path.
I offer individual therapy, couples therapy, and sex therapy, including support for LGBTQ+ clients, late-in-life coming out, healing from religious trauma, and exploring identity with compassion.
And I always come back to one thing: creating safety for insight.
Because when we feel emotionally safe—seen, affirmed, and not judged—we can begin to uncover the parts of ourselves we’ve hidden for too long.
If Pride Feels Complicated, You’re Not Alone
So if Pride feels heavy this year—if it brings up grief, longing, or memories of the parts of yourself you silenced—you’re not broken.
You’re human.
And healing is possible.
Therapy can be a powerful place to begin that healing. Whether you’re just starting to question your identity, or you’ve been out for years but are still processing the impact—it’s never too late to come home to yourself.
I invite you to reflect:
What truth inside you still feels unsafe to speak?
What version of yourself have you been waiting to become?
You don’t have to figure it all out today.
Just start where you are. That’s where insight lives. That’s where healing begins.
Let’s Stay Connected
💬 If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story. What does Pride mean for you? Leave a comment or share below—there’s so much healing in being witnessed.
🎧 Want a guided meditation for reconnecting with your sexuality and releasing shame?
📘 Looking for tools to build emotional safety and begin this journey of self-acceptance?
Download my free guide:
💻 And if you're looking for a therapist who understands the emotional terrain of identity, intimacy, and queer healing—
You deserve to live your truth. You deserve to feel safe inside your own body and life. You deserve to be free.
With love and insight,
Raquel Perez, LPC
Licensed Therapist | Queer-Affirming | Trauma-Informed | Founder of Intima Couples & Sex Therapy PLLC
