Story:

Although my coming-out story is unusual and seemingly brave at first glance, it’s actually not brave at all.

I surrendered to a chance I liked and thus avoided an uncomfortable conversation with my parents, who were already divorced and in very bad relations. It’s important to explain that my family, like many families in southern Dalmatia, didn’t have a tradition of conversation. We had a tradition of arguing and yelling. Yelling was considered normal, from room to room, from the balcony to the street, dad and mom at each other, and then both at me and my sister. I never talked to my parents about my feelings. I remained silent, cried, and got angry. That was the range of emotions I could express. Sitting down and having a trusting conversation with them, as in American movies, was never an option.

I struggled and slowly accepted that I was a lesbian. Please keep in mind these were the war-torn ’90s. The atmosphere in society was dismal. I wasn’t ready to have conversations with friends, explain my sexuality, and declare myself a lesbian. I never did that. I could barely accept that I was gay myself. The only person I came out to in that way was my younger sister. I didn’t explain anything to anyone else. Everyone already figured out that I was a lesbian, they knew I was in a serious relationship with an older woman, but I still didn’t explain or officially declare myself a lesbian.

In 2005, I collaborated on an artistic project with a friend, and we decided to create a ‘campaign for lesbians.’ In the biggest cities in Croatia (Osijek, Zagreb, Split, Dubrovnik, Pula), there were large billboards for our ‘campaign’ called Le-ZZ-Be. It was an activist-artistic move, a kind of public coming out. Our photos appeared in various daily newspapers. In my hometown, a photo of us kissing was on the front page of the daily newspapers. So, the formal coming out that I had postponed for so long was done on large billboards and newspaper covers. I actually liked that.

At no point did I have a problem with it; I wasn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable, I wasn’t afraid. I was happy and proud that we did it. My parents, aunts, uncles, relatives, neighbors, friends, everyone saw those billboards. There was no more doubt whether I was a lesbian or not. Nobody asked me any questions, nobody got angry, nobody stopped me on the street, nobody shouted at me (which wouldn’t be unusual in a small town). The atmosphere in society, compared to the ’90s, was much more liberal, and it was felt.

For me, it was much easier to come out on a large billboard than to delve into each relationship separately and explain myself. That was emotionally too difficult. For a person who had kept their feelings silent for too long, hiding them, it was easier to come out to everyone and no one in particular.

The only exception was my sister, the only person I felt relaxed and close enough with at that time.