We’re back! Today, legendary Drag Race winner Raja Gemini (any pronouns/“whatever you feel at the moment”), is sharing their coming-out story. And by coming out, we mean, “Hey, mom, I’m a motherf*cking drag queen.”

When I was 4 or 5, I had crushes on boys in the way any kid would have a crush on another kid. My parents would ask, “Oo, is that your girlfriend?” In my brain, I was like, “No, that’s my friend, but I do like that boy.” So I knew quite young that I was different. I had feminine mannerisms; I was interested in “girly” things like dolls. I loved dressing up more than anything. I created costumes out of bed sheets and towels—everything that was in the house.

I didn’t realize I was “gay” until people started calling me names. When I lived in Indonesia as a kid, I would hear the word banciwhich is the Indonesian term for f*ggot. Then when I came back to the US when I was 9, I remember playing with some of the kids in my cul de sac. A little boy said, “You’re a f*ggot.” I was like, “What’s that?” He was like, “That means a boy who likes boys.” That’s when I started to learn you weren’t supposed to act that way. You weren’t supposed to do anything that girls like to do.

In most of high school, I still didn’t express myself openly. It was the early ‘90s, and there was no such thing as a gay student alliance. I also grew up in the hood—La Puente, California—so there were gangs. I would do everything to distract people from my sexuality. It was a survival thing. So while all the other kids were dating, I drowned myself in art. I painted, I drew, I performed.

It wasn’t until the latter half of high school that I started to realize I had queer friends. That’s also when I started experimenting with drag. I started working at a local club in Orange County called Oz, and my first time being hired onto a cast was when I was 18 or 19. I’m a very private person, so I told myself drag wasn’t any of my parents’ business because I was out of their house at that point.

Also, I came from a pretty religious family. My dad was Muslim for 50 years of his life before converting to Christianity, and then he eventually became a pastor. My parents knew I was gay, but instead of talking to me about it, they just told me the rules of the Bible. But that was it. Like, “We did our job, Lord Jesus. Now it’s up to him to go do whatever needs to happen in his life.”

I never actually said to my parents, “I’m gay.” The real coming-out moment was telling my mom about doing drag. Not only was I gay, but I was also dressing up as a girl. It was Mother’s Day when I was 30, and I decided that for her gift, I was going to give her complete transparency and honesty. We flipped through the pages of my portfolio book, and she was impressed. She was like, “Wow, you look really beautiful, like a 1940s movie star.” But the last thing she said to me in that conversation was, “I’m glad you’re showing me this, but whatever you do, don’t show your dad.”

My dad was 25 years older than my mom, so he was from a way different generation. Probably the first time he saw me in drag was on RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 3, and it made all the difference. He was a very competitive guy (also a Gemini), so for him to see me win was a big deal. My father passed away almost exactly one year after I was on Drag Race, and one of the last things he said to me on his deathbed was that he was incredibly proud of me. He called me a warrior.

Drag Race really helped open my parents’ eyes to how serious I was about this work. It wasn’t just me cross-dressing and getting wasted at clubs. I mean, that was a big part of it [laughing], but I was good at it. The show also became a catalyst for giving people the courage to do what they want in life. I never take it for granted, and it’s what I ultimately aim to do. I believe in leaving a legacy, and to know that I have helped people be better, more authentic versions of themselves is absolutely priceless.

I think the timing in my life has been perfect, but for those who are afraid to come out and be themselves, you gotta let that go. As soon as you do, everything falls into place. I have an entire surrogate family, a group of people that I’ve created over decades. So if your bio family isn’t going to be there for you as that 100% source of love, there are other people out there who can do it.