As I sat down to write my first book, Hope Elevated, I had no idea this journey would catalyze a profound personal transformation. In the beginning, I was unaware of the series of events that would soon unfold, ultimately leading me to confront and embrace my sexuality. Throughout my sobriety, I often questioned if my story was even worth sharing. I had a loving family and a good upbringing. Yet, there was one thing that set me apart: a genetic predisposition to addiction. The actual trigger for my descent into addiction, though, was the heavy secret I carried. It was a secret so deeply buried that only the haze of alcohol and drugs could seem to lessen its weight.
As I got into writing a chapter about my first kiss with a woman during a game of Truth or Dare, I had a moment of hesitation. I almost left that chapter out entirely. By then, I had accumulated eight years of sobriety, and the principles of the program—honesty above all—loomed large in my mind. Perhaps part of me resisted sharing this story because I knew, deep down, that I was still living a lie in that aspect of my life.
In a moment of uncertainty, I called my therapist. She posed a simple yet profoundly challenging question, “Tamar, have you ever been attracted to a woman?” My immediate response was, “I don’t know.” What a monumental lie that was. Admitting the truth, even to myself, felt like stepping off a cliff into the unknown. Yet, it was a step I needed to take.
About a year after finishing the book, I finally mustered the courage to confide in a friend about the secret I had harbored since I was 12. Clutching a cup of coffee for comfort, I made my way to her place, nerves twisting my stomach into knots. What made this moment even more intense was my deep, unspoken attraction to her—an attraction I had buried for fear of jeopardizing our friendship.
As I began to share my feelings, the words came tumbling out amidst tears. I felt a profound release, yet an overwhelming terror gripped me. I was in a committed relationship at the time, and the thought of starting over, especially to explore my sexuality in a conservative town in the Bible Belt, was utterly daunting. But sharing this secret felt like peeling off a mask I had worn for far too long, exposing my true self to the light for the first time.
Over the next few months, the idea of finding my place began to take root. My partner at the time was dedicated to caring for an adult male with a developmental disability and was considering bringing in another client to be able to quit his full-time job. While I admired his commitment, I couldn’t live with the prospect of having little to no privacy in our home. The thought of losing our personal space became increasingly suffocating, so I started exploring options for living independently.
Having never lived by myself, the idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. This feeling was amplified by the fact that I had taken a massive leap of faith just six months earlier by quitting my full-time corporate job to start my own business. The prospect of a new, independent living space—a sanctuary where I could breathe freely and explore my true self without constraints—was as exciting as it was terrifying. I envisioned a place where I could learn to love myself, and my partner could visit on weekends, allowing us to see if our relationship was worth fighting for and giving me the solitude I craved.
A week after I started looking, I found a fantastic place, and despite not having a job, the landlord welcomed me as his new tenant. My partner assumed this was my way of exiting the relationship. While that wasn’t entirely true, part of me did hope that living on my own would give me some clarity and, if we decided to part ways, give me the courage to explore my sexuality. Initially, that move led to a breakup, which was brief but nasty. Thankfully, I had friends who helped me decorate my new home and drown my sorrows with evenings of ice cream and game nights.
A couple of weeks after our split, my ex, who was also in recovery, wanted to make amends. I delayed it for a while but eventually agreed to meet. I clarified that I didn’t want to get back together but was glad we could talk. Despite my decision and our conversation that day, he went above and beyond to win me back. It was like something from a romance movie I had never experienced before.
During that time, I had only shared what was happening between him and me with a select few people. Part of the reason was that I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do, and the other reason was because I knew some of my friends weren’t big fans of his and probably would have preferred if I had just cut him off completely. We started seeing a counselor together, and although I didn’t know if I could see myself with him long-term, I decided to stay.
That decision cost me a couple of friendships, including the friend I had come out to months earlier. At the time, this broke my heart and made me regret opening up about my attraction to women. I felt devastated. However, although it’s not always in the time frame I would like, I believe everything happened in God’s time, and when it came to meeting the love of my life, this was no different. Spending those few extra months with my ex allowed me to know it was over, and the fallout was painful enough that it forced me to start getting honest.
In April of 2022, I met with a good friend who studied astrology. She did a reading for me and, part way through, mentioned there was something about me needing to explore my sexuality. After watching the recording to make sure I heard her correctly, I thought back to the time I called my therapist while writing my book and lying to her about my sexuality. I knew it was time to come clean.
With a trembling hand, I picked up the phone and called my sponsor. She invited me for a walk, sensing the weight in my voice. After some small talk, I couldn’t hold it in any longer—I came out with it. She offered me a safe space where my feelings could flow freely and I could let out the tears building up inside me. At that moment, I also opened up about the pain of losing a dear friend a few months prior, a loss that had cut me deeply.
I went home and picked up the phone to call my business partner and good friend. Nervously, I told her next. Knowing she had experience in this area, I was hopeful for her guidance. She listened compassionately and gave me invaluable advice: share my truth with a few close friends. This way, I could explore my sexuality without feeling the need to hide it from the people I cared about. So, that’s precisely what I did. My friends were incredibly supportive, wrapping me in their love and encouragement. They even convinced me to take a leap and try some dating apps.
For the first time, I felt a freedom I had never experienced before. I was finally beginning to own my truth. Though my only experiences with women had been under the influence and the idea of dating sober terrified me, I was almost ten years sober now. I knew it was time to embrace this new chapter, face my fears, and step into my authentic self with courage and hope.
That was when I met her. But for that story, you’ll have to stay tuned.
COMING OUT SOBER: Welcome to Coming Out Sober! I’m Tamar Medford, your guide through the wild ride of sobriety and self-discovery My mission is to create a safe, supportive space for those navigating sobriety and LGBTQ+ identities. I aim to inspire others by sharing my story and exploring the unique challenges we face. Together, we’ll break down barriers, challenge rigid beliefs, and celebrate living authentically. Whether it’s through personal anecdotes or reflections on societal norms, I hope to foster a community where everyone feels seen, heard, and loved.
Here, you’ll find stories from me and others about living sober and out loud. Let’s dive into the hilarious, heartbreaking, and everything in-between moments of breaking free from booze and societal norms.
Sober Curator Fun Fact! A handful of Sober Curator Contributors identify as being in the LBGTQIA+ community. With this new Coming Out Sober! column, you will hear from multiple voices and perspectives from our Sober Curator Contributor community.
