WE DESERVE SUNSHINE EPISODE 2: Am I truly out if I’m still locked inside?

When I came out of the closet, I thought the freedom to be myself was waiting on the other side. Nobody told me it was only the first door.

I grew up believing that loving both genders was a sin. But when it happened to me, it never felt forbidden. It felt like something I was simply meant to feel—like a tide finding its way back to shore. That truth stayed locked inside a closet with me for years. At first, that small room where no one could judge me felt safe until the walls inched closer every year—until they pressed against my chest. Some nights, I wonder: why do I keep making myself smaller when the world outside seems so vast?

I thought that once I stepped into the light, I would finally have enough air to fill my lungs. It did, but only for a while.

Coming out was not the end of it. What lies outside my closet is a hallway lined with doors I still need to fight to open. 

One led to my home, where acceptance was reluctantly given after a confession. Another door opened, where my existence was not treated as a debate. Some doors bore signs of safety and protection, but their handles didn’t turn for people like me. Others led to the simple things that I wanted: to exist freely and love loudly without fear.

The farther I walked, the more I realized countless others had walked the same floor before me.

People know our existence. We are not ghosts hiding in the corner of society. They know our names, hear our stories, and recognize our faces. We even appear on their television screens and in the rainbow parades every month of June. But recognition did not always mean acceptance. People love us, but once we ask for equality, the room suddenly goes silent.

We never asked for special treatment. We only hoped for a space in the world we already belonged to—a place beneath the same sun without being pushed back into the shade. The things we ask for—respect, protection, and love—are the same things everyone else deserves.

Sometimes, I think about that younger version of myself behind the closet. The one who hoped there would come a day when they would no longer hide just because they’re different. The one who wondered whether there was something wrong with the way their heart worked. I wish I could tell them that life would become brighter, but not easier.

I left the closet, yet sometimes it feels like society just keeps building new rooms and locking doors around me.

In the end, I ask myself: am I truly out if I’m still being kept inside?

Article: Hazel Ann Openiano

Illustration: Nazia Ashley Gestopa