Community Rainbow Waves

Human

I never thought about liking girls as more than friends until I saw it represented on TV a few years back (my first ship was calzona) and I thought “oH so that’s why I think SO MUCH about girls and what it would be like to hold their hands and kiss them” (I know, should’ve seen it coming).
A few months later I got enough courage to come out as a lesbian to my best friend at the time who was SO supportive. I slowly started coming out to my step-brother and my dad, both of whom took it well and were so supportive. I wrote my mom a letter, and though she seemed okay with it, she later told me not to tell anyone and offered to get me a therapist if I wanted to talk about it. To this day, four years later, we still haven’t talked about it again. Since then, we have not had such a good relationship, mostly because I was already so afraid of disappointing her and not being the daughter she wanted, which I am not, as I have been told by her and, as much as it hurts, I still try to have a good relationship with her, because she is my mother.

I barely had to “come out” after that, it was mostly people already noticing I was into girls or me just casually talking about how cute a girl was, and, luckily, I have never had any bad reaction, except for one of my “friends” who was really weirded out and frequently made me feel like the “odd one out”.
In the past year I have had to “come out” again though, since I no longer identify as a lesbian, I do not feel comfortable with any label right now and that’s okay. I do not need a label.

Pansexual

Hi there mates, my name is Iris and I am pansexual. Whew, that’s really the first time I’ve ever written that out. I am sixteen years old but knew my identity since seventh grade. I never really saw anyone in the media I could relate to, until these past couple of years. Someone I really look up to is Natasha Negovanlis, a pansexual actress. I feel like labels are so pushed on people that it’s difficult to identify with one because there’s so much pressure to do so. I definitely relate to bisexuality but I don’t want to limit myself by identifying with it and excluding the possibility of being with someone who identifies as non-binary or not in the gender spectrum of “male” and “female”. I know this is the age when people brush things off by saying that “its a phase” or “you’re just confused”. I’m not. I know who I am but I also know that if I choose to be just that there’s going to be a lot of backlash. I live in Tennessee, the south. Here, anyone identifying with the LGBTQIA+ community is unheard of. I almost came out to my best friend. Until I heard her say that someone called her a lesbian (as a joke) and she became very offended. I remember her exact words. “Ew, someone called me a lesbian… I know it’s a joke, but that’s like, super offensive”. I am open about standing up for the LGBTQIA+ community and everyone I know mocks me for it. The people, who I thought were my friends, make fun of the community on a daily basis in front of my face because they know it makes me angry and uncomfortable. I don’t really feel the need to have this big “coming out” because honestly, who I choose to be with, is no one’s damn business but my own. My closest friends are always asking me “what are you” and “seriously dude, if you like girls you need to tell me”. Does it matter? What difference would it make? My best friend calls me D*ke instead of using my real name because she thinks it’s funny. I don’t care about being called that, but derogatory phrases are offensive to the community and I have told her multiple times not to say them. I feel like I’m in this corner trapped by people who whisper about me like I’m some kind of circus animal. My girl friends are worried that “I have a crush on them” and feel uncomfortable around me. I’M NOT CONTAGIOUS?? Anyway, I do honestly think that I want to move somewhere else when I am older to a place which does accept me. I’m looking at colleges in Canada and really hope I can create my own community. CHOOSE my family. People who don’t squirm when I mention that, YES, I AM QUEER. There’s so much beauty in that community that I truly wish to celebrate openly some day. I WILL come out once I find the right people to come out to. Even if it takes a few years, I know it’ll be worth it because surrounding yourself by people who unconditionally love you is irreplaceable. I want to say thank you so much to those who support, and are apart of, the queer community, I really look up to you and hope to find those who are like you some day.

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

I am a gay woman

For as long as I can remember I have always been attracted to girls. One of my breaking point was my first kiss in 2 grade with one of my guy best friends. I thought “EW” this is not want I want. I was young and did not understand the concept of being gay. So for years I hid that part of myself deep down inside until one day it decided to reappear, I was 14 years old. At this point in time I understood what it meant for girls to like girls. But I was afraid. I didn’t want people to think things about me. The stigma that stems from girls dressing “tomboy” means they are gay. Which was me. I have always worn boys clothes which I thought was normal! I grew up with 2 older brothers and always looked up to them! But then came in the bullies. I decided to repress my true identity again and again and again. Then years later we are finding ourselves in this unrealistic situation so bizarre, with our world so broken. But during these times I had time to ponder, ( and download TikTok which was also another breaking point in figuring out my sexuality). I finally realized that life is not to be taken for granted. We don’t know how long we have on this dying rock we call earth. So why spend it living it as someone else?

When I finally came out about 4 months ago, I felt like a weight was lifted off my chest. I could be finally be myself, proudly.

Caitlin

I was always very feminist and had a lot of female role models. I would be very into specific actresses and just chalk it up to wanting to be their friend, or look like them, or love their personality, etc. It never really fell into that “I want to be /with/ them” category. I never thought anything of it. I was on Tumblr and everyone was that way, and no one was gay (at the time, now we’re all LGBTQ+ but that’s neither here nor there) that was doing it so it just seemed pretty “regular”!

I’ve always been pretty introverted and had anxiety, so add those things together you don’t really venture outside of comfort zones too often! I dated a few guys in high school but that was high school and who really knows what they’re doing anyway, right? After some less than ideal “boyfriends” I went into college single and definitely not looking for anything except an education. I made a good group of friends and we went out fairly regularly. My friends were always asking “are you gay? I never see you flirt with anyone.” I’d always said no, not because I was ashamed but because I really didn’t know. It’s a scary thing to dig into yourself and really question things about who you fundamentally are. It’s even scarier to go in and admit that you’re any type of “other”.

I started to really wonder about my sexually my senior year of college. I was nearing the end of my studies and being a psychology major all you really do is introspective work. I was taking a lot of gender/sexuality classes and in writing all these papers and researching all these things I started to really wonder, what if I’m not into men because I’m /not into/ men. Huh, who would have thought! I started watching more tv shows and movies that gay characters (Orphan Black, South of Nowhere, The L Word, etc) and I felt connected to them. I could feel that tingling in the pit of your stomach when 2 women would kiss on screen. I never felt that when I watched straight couples, or when I kissed men. So when I went out to bars with my friends I would be more open to just realizing that women are great and sometimes they flirt with you and you flirt back! And it’s not so scary.

After realizing I was definitely not straight I had been asked out on a date with a woman but I was worried because I hadn’t actually told anyone I was gay. I just, wanted to be. Why do I have to “come out”? Why can’t I just be like “this is my girlfriend” and we all move on. These are the annoyances I still feel. Because even though I’m 29 I come out every time I meet someone new. It’s always different but it’s always coming out. It’s always that moment of fear from when the word “girlfriend” leaves your lips to the moment the person you’re speaking to actually says something that you fear what they will say. No matter how comfortable YOU are with your sexuality you have to make sure those around you are okay with it to. And that blows. Anywho – I could talk about that for years so I’ll move on – I decided to come out to my family on my 22nd birthday because who could be mad at someone on their birthday? I was sitting at the table with my mom and dad and waiting for my sibling to arrive and I was nervous AF. My parents have always supported me in everything I had done and I knew this would probably be the same but that fear is real and it doesn’t matter how nonsensical it is, it’s SCARY. So I blurted out “I think I want to date women”. And then I had to backtrack and tell them that I’ve been thinking about a lot of things and I’m pretty sure I’m gay. They were supportive and by the time my brother showed up for dinner they were already joking about things with me. My dad was encouraging me to ask out a cute bartender and my mom was embarrassed to be at the table with us. Business as usual! I still struggle to really find the “box” that fits me, I like the term Gay because it’s all encompassing. For me Queer has always felt… Not me, and I don’t want to be called Queer, but I know others feel that way about Gay! I don’t quite feel like a lesbian because I do sometimes find men attractive, but bisexual doesn’t really fit either. I’m somewhere on the Kinsey scale and “gay” hits the nail on the head for me. Anywho, that’s me.

I know that my story is definitely on the more rare side of being accepted by family with such ease and I hope that as time goes on the stories like mine get more regular and the ones where parents react badly become the odd ones. I know that’s where we’re headed as a society and I can’t wait to get to that place.

Just remember the most important thing, if your given family doesn’t support you, turn to your chosen family because they will. You always have support whether it’s virtually through places like this or real life framily (thanks, Sophia Bush for the best term, friends/family = Framily!), lean on your people when you need to that’s what we’re meant to do. You are not now, nor will you ever be alone.

A non binary man living free.

I was born a girl. I was always kind of normal person, as a kid, but a lot masculine. At the age of 12, I knew I was gay and at the time, it was a society that wasn’t very ‘welcoming’ to gay people and I experienced that. I didn’t make a coming out to anyone, I just joined with a lesbian friend and people start assuming I was gay too. I noticed my closest friends being weird with me. At school, when we were in gym class, the girls, my friends for ages, would hide changing their closest next to me, and with the time, they started ‘getting away’ and talking behind my back. So, by time it was high school, they all went to the same school and I decided to change to a different school a bit far.
I wasn’t always very good at making friends, so when I lost everyone, I got really scared that I was gonna be alone. But then, about 2 days at high school, a group of girls came to me and asked for me to joined them. They didn’t asked anything about me, they just accept how I was and they loved me. And that was the best time of my life. There, I made friends for life!
By the time I went to college, I had a girlfriend, that in a year in college, we broke up.
I had a really hard time in college, I didn’t have anyone, I was completely alone. And that started to get to me. I had a depression, really bad, I just really wanted to die. I tried. But something at the time told me to hold on a bit more.
I got help and I got better, for a while. And 2 years into college, I had no high school girlfriend anymore and I had a few friends from my class. But I decided to focus and end college.
And now I did, I’m 22 years old and I just ended college.
Buuuut, this was only my story about being a gay women.

At the age of 14, I’ve always knew I was different, I felt different. I always hated my body and how it was. And at that time I discovered ‘trans’. I started searching about it and learning more, how it was done, how much it costs. And in Portugal (that’s where I live), the costs were a lot! I couldn’t afford it, not until I was like 30 years old. So I made a plan. I promised myself that I would end school as fast as I could and I would go to another country and there work and pay for surgery and hormones.
But – and this is an important part for everyone in a similar situation -, things on my head started getting worse. The profound hate with my body was awful. I started to cut myself. In my head, doing that was like a way to get to my really body, that was underneath the one I had that I hated. I also had depressions and 2 suicide atempts.
But one day, November of 2019, a friend of mine – not very close at the time – asked my if I ever thought about transexuality. And I told her the truth and my plan to finish school and go away to become me. And she was this amazing person that said ‘are you crazy?! you gotta start that s*** right now!’.
The first step was to come out to my parents. I came out to my sister in 2016 and she was okay with it. And then I came out to my mother in December 2019, and she was.. . okay…, I understand it is hard for parents and loved ones, but I only want them to be the same as they always were. My mom said that, if this is something I feel and want, it was my path, I need to so it alone. And that okay by me, that’s acceptable.
So, because if the incredible women that supported me and helped me to come out to my parents and ‘ordered’ me not to wait anymore, I started my transition.
Now, I’m about to start hormones and I’m working to get money for my surgery. And I’m happy! Really happy, for the first time in my life!

For anyone it a situation similar – don’t give up! Don’t wait!
If you love someone, go get them, no matter the sex or gender!
If you feel your different, don’t hide it, live your true self!
I know we still don’t live in a society that’s free and that accepts ‘different’ people. In this century, we should not have to hide and we should not have communities. We should all be one. But the world is this not and this amazing community will stand by you and help you and support you all the way and all the time!

We are united as one!

Non binary and lesbian

I was in grade 5 when I realized that I wasn’t the same as the other girls, I liked boys stuff more than girls and I’ve always known I’ve liked girls. When I came out to my mom she wasn’t excepting, my step dad was very excepting. My mom kicked me out when I was 14 and I live with my grandma now but I am much happier now

Still Coming Out After All These Years

I first came out fifteen years ago, when I told my best friend about a crush that was stirring up an epic inner turmoil in the way that only teenage drama can.

A year later, I told my parents that I liked girls, staring fixedly at my shoes and wishing I could disappear. Both of those memories are still so vivid, because although I received compassion and understanding in response, I felt like my whole world was turning upside down. I thought I’d changed my life forever in a single moment. I also thought that was the end of it- I was out. Spoiler alert: that wasn’t the end of it.

I have been coming out for more than half my life now. I start a new job and give my partner’s name as my emergency contact, and I come out. A new friend asks what kind of guys I like and I respond with full honesty, and I come out. Someone spots my engagement ring, we talk about wedding plans, and I come out.

I have experienced every kind of response- confusion, awkwardness, curiosity, anger, delight. It never stops, but it gets easier every time because I know I have community and I know that there is nothing wrong with me. I am proud of who I am and even prouder to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ family. My fellow queers have taught me so much about love, identity, selflessness and courage, and every time I come out I remember that, and I count myself lucky.