Community Rainbow Waves

Living My Truth Paved The Way To Acceptance

Growing up in England I was abused by my grandma and mum. I don’t remember a time in my early childhood when I wasn’t looking outside the family for a “mother figure”. Growing up my dad told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, just not gay.

I came to America at 20 and went through 9.5 years of counselling to free myself from my past. For a long time I had wondered if I was gay or still just looking for a mother figure like I had in childhood. At the end of years of counselling and with my past behind me, I was able to say definitively: I am gay!

Then I had to tell my homophobic dad…he and my step-mum were stopping in LA for a few days on their way back to the UK from NZ. I went to my dad’s hotel and asked if I could speak to him alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick to my stomach. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to him for days. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I was very, very, VERY happily gay, then gave the biggest smile I could muster. He stared at me and started crying. I told him everything would be okay. He drank 5 PINTS of gin and tonic at the bar that night, and the next night.

He returned to England and I didn’t hear from him for 6 weeks. Then I got a 9 page, hand written letter in the mail from him. He wrote that I had crushed his dreams of me marrying a strapping American man who I would have kids with that would grow up to play rugby for England. My 3 1/2 year old nephew had died earlier that year and my dad compared me coming out to the death of his only grandson. It was devastating beyond words.

That was 12 years ago. 7 years ago I started watching “The Fosters” and 4 years ago I started watching “Wynonna Earp”. Both had positive queer representation with no strings attached. I realised through watching these shows that any lingering elements of self hatred were not mine, they were imposed feelings from others that I had taken on as my own.

I knew then that I could only be responsible for my personal truth and living my life in the most authentic way, no matter what. I would lead by example, I had NOTHING to be ashamed of.

I boldly introduced my dad to my then-girlfriend and he was amazingly accepting and positive. He could finally see how happy I was and after all I went through growing up, he knew I deserved happiness.

Today my dad has come full circle. Not only does he embrace who I am and is so proud of me for fighting so hard for the life I have, he also told me at my sister’s wedding that when the time comes, he would want to walk me down the aisle too.

Coming out wasn’t easy, but not being true to who I am was a WHOLE lot harder. I am happier with who I am now more than at any other time in my life!

Truth

All of the coming out stories on this site encouraged me to write what follows and post it on my website and social media. Thank you to one and all for speaking their truth and in doing so, reminding me how important it is to own our truth and for me, stand publicly in my truth.

I have never officially come out of the closet. I also never sat my parents down to explain my sexuality. It never felt right to me, I would not explain having a boyfriend so why would I explain having a girlfriend. The idea felt degrading and separatist. I brought my girlfriend home from college and we slept in the same room. My parents have always been accepting and supportive and this was no different. Eventually conversations occurred with my parents and we all acknowledged my having a girlfriend in college and in high school it was boyfriends. That was it, and the love and support I expected and desired has always been there. With time and life experiences I recognize how blessed I have been to have such parents.

By my sophomore year at college I had a serious girlfriend. We were not out to everyone, but we were not hiding. We essentially lived together and hung out with mutual friends. College felt freeing to me, having grown up in a small town in Western Kansas where EVERYONE knew everything, or it seemed. Unfortunately, college was also my first experience where I discovered what it is like to be judged and attacked for my sexuality. I was outed by an instructor and several peers. The derisive gossip was meant to attack and shame me, to what end I do not know. Action taken, I assume, because I was different and that apparently made me a threat. Again, one of those people who outed me was a college instructor… The lesson I took was to become smaller and less of a threat, and it worked.

I became a professional horse trainer and riding instructor; a career path that is heavily dominated by men with women predominantly the clientele, a world built on traditional conservative values. In this role I had to be as tough as a man and as feminine as I could be in appearance to survive; I worked hard and found success and continued to hide in plain sight. My inner circle knew, I just did not blatantly flaunt my relationships in the workplace. However, on occasion, I experienced people finding out and attempting to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. They were never even my clients. Somehow, being a woman and loving a woman was a threat to some. I find it confusing, the horses never seemed bothered and my students grew their riding skills. Shouldn’t that be enough? Wasn’t that my job?

Over the last several decades I have been asked to go back into the closet surprisingly frequently. One such request was from a partner. For her, I embraced a much higher level of privacy and seclusion, embracing dishonesty about my truth. I justified it to myself for her benefit as she was struggling with her own sexuality, and I knew what it is like to be outed and attacked. This choice came at a cost. I slowly but surely chipped away at my own value and self-worth. When you add the shift in our culture toward more blatant violence being taken against the LGBTQ+ community, it is no wonder I find myself hesitating to come out of my cave and stand tall.

During this pandemic, I have had some extra time on my hands and have continued the process of self-discovery and awakening. In 2016 I had a health scare, a little bit of breast cancer, which started me on a path of embracing life at an elevated level. I have explored regrets, past relationships, work choices, friendships, the list goes on. Recently I have been addressing my sexuality in depth. It seems strange to do at 51… After my last breakup I tried to talk myself into being straight, didn’t work. I have sought a label to fit in, frankly because it seems easier to find community and answer questions. The truth is that I do not fit a specific label, I am not gay, straight or bisexual. I like men, but I truly prefer women. Like many, I have struggled with understanding the diverse array of labels I have come across and what they all mean. Finally, I have landed on the belief that they, much like me, are trying to find a simple way to describe and understand themselves and maybe find others who are similar. It is hard to find community and mentors if you cannot describe yourself or see yourself in others. Visibility matters. Voice matters. Being acknowledged matters. Being seen, really seen matters.

Today I am choosing to officially come out of the closet. I am guessing the closest I will get to a label is calling myself queer, but I still do not prefer labels… I am so much more than this one word. I am a woman, driven, a leader, compassionate, an empath, a warrior, a facilitator, a healer, a horse trainer, a people trainer and coach, an aunt, a daughter, a professor, a humorist, an author, a story teller, a nature lover, a dog mom, a dancer…. and I am queer. I must speak my truth and be fully congruent. If I am not congruent, I am not whole. I deserve to live an entirely whole life embodying my full truth. I am most at ease and entirely in my power when I am my truth. I want to be the mentor for that person who feels alone and know it is possible to be fully embodied and live your truth. Self-acceptance gifts us with self-confidence, which empowers us. The job or client I do not get because of this statement, I do not want. No more tainted money. I am a better facilitator, teacher, trainer and human being because of who I am and what I have experienced in my life. I deserve to give you the best of me and you deserve to receive my best. That means I must stand fully in MY power.

I am here and I am reaching my hand out. To my cousin – I am sorry I did not know you, did not know that you were suddenly a teenager forced to survive life and the streets because of who you are. I am so grateful to know you today, to love you and count you as my family. I do not want to fail another. To those who simply need to know they are not alone, I am here with you. I stand beside you and see your light. To those who need a hand, I am here and will steady the ladder. To those who need to be witnessed or heard, my eyes and ears are open. May we all as a community, young and not so young, stand together and raise our voices. May we rise and be the mentors we dreamed of to create a better world for us all; every shade of the rainbow deserves to be seen and honored.

Cathy

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

Work in progress

Firstly I would like to say to Dom, I am so glad you have found your truth and I wish you all the happiness in the world.

I believe I have also found my truth but I’m not sure if it will ever be uncovered but i’m working on it!

I grew up in the 80s & with parents who didn’t talk about “that sort of thing”

When i was at high school which was an all girls school, I played a lot of sport (& still do) & I was always trying to impress the girls (& still am lol) but I always came back to thinking it was wrong and that it was expected to find a nice boy and get married etc. But that never happened!

I’ve always been very body conscious & so I wasn’t very confident in speaking to men and I wasn’t one for going out much either.

A couple of years ago I came across “Wynnona Earp” & I loved it from the very 1st episode but especially Waverley and Nicole. I’m a little bit obsessed with their relationship & i often think that I would love to have a relationship like that. Think turning 50 also made me realise it was time to think of myself and what I really wanted.

However, I still haven’t told anyone & if i am honest I am scared to. There have been a couple of times that I’ve thought about discussing it with a friend who is gay & also a couple of my best friends but i always chicken out. I am thinking that i will when/if i meet that special someone but until then just keep quiet.

This is the 1st time I’ve really opened up about my feelings & it feels good & I have Dom, Kat, “Wynona Earp” & the fandom to thank for that.

Attending my first ever con last year and being amongst such an amazing community made me realise that this is the right path for me.

Funny

I always knew I was a little different. I was the off athlete, the friend left out, the person who could always make everyone else laugh and happy however it was the biggest mission to get me to laugh, enjoy what I was doing. I found an environment at work where I just become friends with people because I felt alright to be around. Than one year, one day, one person came and joined our work. Straight away we were the same!, same interests, same think a like, same almost everything, It was just someone I felt it was not hard to talk to. We instantly became friends time passed and we were best friends but little things started to change. I’d want to tell her everything, I wanted her oppion, we couldn’t not talk to each everyday, I wanted to be around her. Small part of the good thing we had developed started to explode from types of family matters. But we chose to stick around for each other. This lead to a moment that I can never forgot. This girl kissed me, she’s kissed me. And from than on we’ve had family issues on her side, But my families accepted us together and she is part of my family. But we always stick together. we have had each other for almost 4ish year. Been Together for 2years. But it’s made me realise when you find 1 person who your able to be vulnerable, happy, sad, angry, loved, in 1 person than it doesn’t matter what’s stated on a birth certificate what matters is what they are to you. So at the age of 21 – I am out.

Im a girl that likes girls… but i don’t know how to label myself

Femke, 28Y, Belgian ( Europe) – putting the L in LGTB – CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

My story, ….
When I was about 13y old, i fell in love for the very first time. I know you’re basically still a child then but I had never felt that way before.
The head-over-heels kinda love. My teacher of dutch was the aim of all that love, haha.
My best friend knew what was going on, we had been in the same class since we were 3y old.
I felt so happy, the pink cloud you know. but I struggled too…. It felt so wrong. It didn’t hit me at first but the moment i realized that i did not just like her, but fell in love with her, i also realized that my teacher was not a man, but a beautiful at that time 27y old ( i think ) woman.

Damn, that hit me hard. It felt so so wrong. Everything about it was wrong. falling in love with your teacher? UGH. Falling in love with a woman? UGH. AT 13y? UGH!

Time passed and i did not know how to cope.
So i started ‘cutting’ myself at my wrists. I wore wristbands to cover it up.
I didn’t do it for a long time but by the end i had about 30 marks, each 2 to 3 cm ( about an inch ).

Luckily, the friend i mentioned before, knew that particular teacher also private, as the were neighbors.
She told her what i had been doing, and why….

The teacher talked to me several times, she made time for me during lunch brakes to discuss why everything felt so wrong.
She told me it was okay to fall for a teacher ( happens to a lot of people) but that ofcourse it was not mutual.
BUT also that these feelings for people of the same gender weren’t so wrong as i thought. her sister apparently was gay too.
She looked up some tips to stop the cutting. one i remember was wearing an elastic band around my wrists. so when i felt the need to hurt, i could just pull it, but no scars, no wounds, …. it was the first step to make it stop.

I’m still thankful to this day that she helped me, that she comforted me, that she made me feel good and okay.
Even though it must have been kinda awkard sitting in that room with a kid that is so in love with you….

Yet after all that was over, i did not have the courage to come out to more of my friends or my family.
I waited until i was 16. we got an assignment at school, to make an ad, a kind of collage for your older self to look at. with wishes, aspirations, ..
I wrote down that i hoped i’d be happy with my wife …. a little later our teacher ( religion ) asked something about it, and i came out to my entire classroom. it felt so freeing yet so difficult that immediately after i ran out of class. my emotions were just too much and i did not want anyone to see it, neither did i want to hear a reaction because i was afraid there might be negative ones.
But most of them wore cool with it. except for some boys who reacted rather childish, and i expected it from those particular boys so it didn’t affect me that much ( but it always does a bit … i”m sure you’ll understand ).

I was very scared of my parents reaction too. I kinda knew they would probably be okay with it, my older niece had a girlfriend at the time, my mom’s boss was gay, … and my parents were fine with all of that. but still i had the idea that when it would be their own child, they would react differently.
but they didn’t. my mom was kinda sad, but just because i hadn’t told her sooner, instead of carrying this weight on my shoulders alone for such a long time.

So it all went much smoother than i thought. I realize many people have it a lot worse than me.
but still the thought process, the mental struggle, …. i wish it will be different for the generations to come.
that they can grow up, without thinking for just a minute that they’re wrong, that they’re not good enough.
cause they are good enough.

I am happily married with my beautiful wife Elise, who is a teacher too ;-), see it comes all full circle haha.
We’re expecting our first child, so soon we’ll be a family of 3.

Hope it all works out for all of you 2

As Ellen would say: ” be kind to one another”

Femke
* sorry for the spelling mistakes, my computer freaks out when i type in english.
and i’m not a native speaker ofcourse.

Ell

The first time I had feelings for a girl was probably in 7th grade. she was my best friend and openly bisexual, so when I realized I liked her I came out to my brother’s girlfriend as bisexual; she was the only one I told. I never acted on those feelings, kept repressing them, acting like they didn’t exist. and I managed for a while; for about six years. I had my first girlfriend when I was 17 and that’s when I came out to my mom, as pansexual, who helped me come out to everyone else in my family. I started identifying as a lesbian a year later. I’m 23 now and openly out to everyone, even at work. it wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t most times, but it’s worth it. <3

A shy baby bi girl who has no idea what she’s doing, but is glad she is here

I’ve known since a young age that I was attracted to girls. I kissed my babysitters niece when we were 8 or 9, a few years later I found my dad’s playboy magazines – and I wasn’t trying to read the articles, I was lucky enough to have a computer in my room when I was in 6-8th grade and I found wlw fanfics online and I remember the one time I took a 1 megapixel video recording of two (2) girls kissing from a TV show on my flip phone when I was in the 9th grade (of which a friend saw and I’ve never panicked more than I have then, but someone got them to drop it and move on). The point is I’ve always known, I just always felt like that part of me had to stay hidden, even though I later became a very outspoken ally of the LGBTQ2IA+ community. I even sat with several friends as we cried together while they came out to me and I loved and supported all of them, but yet I felt that I couldn’t do the same. Maybe it was just my body insecurities, or whatever but I felt, and I guess still do to an extent, that I didn’t belong. That I didn’t physically look or dress and certain way so I couldn’t be anything but straight.

Even though I supported and had friends in the community I felt that I still needed to hide that part of myself, like it was ok for everyone else but it was wrong that I felt that way. I kept that part of me isolated to my apartment, my second tumblr account, etc. I let others make their own assumptions and just ran with it. That felt a lot easier to me than actually saying those words out loud.

I also struggled as the years went on with my age (I’m 28) I started thinking that I was “too old to come out” and what if I come out as this but later figured out that I’m that or none of those. Would people take me seriously? Would that perpetuate the bisexual stereotype of just being confused? Thinking about coming out is stressful enough but add those questions on top of that with no one to ask or have provide some kind of reassurance that everything I was feeling and thinking was normal and valid and all I had to focus on was me was torture.

And then one day I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw gifs of WayHaught and I read the comments and found out about Wynonna Earp (Funny side story: I didn’t watch the series immediately so I was just going off comments and tags and I thought Nicole was Wynonna for the longest time and was a bit confused when I first started watching the show lol) Watching Waverly grow to understand and accept herself and how brave and sure she was of her feelings for Nicole really hit me. I knew it was just a TV show but her journey was so authentic that if helped me be a bit more comfortable with what I was feeling. As soon as I started the show I also sent out my #EarperGreet tweet and was floored by how friendly and accepting the fandom was. Everything combined made me feel like I had a safe place to be myself. I started getting bolder on what I posted or liked on my main twitter and eventually got the chance to hang out with other Earpers from my city. Being able to hang out with other queer people naturally made me feel more comfortable and confident to be myself. It would be another 7 months after meeting my fellow Earpers in person, of subtle hints and whatnot online before I finally came out on twitter, on national coming out day no less. I came out as Bi and I couldn’t be happier. I’m still a bit shy in person talking about it, but I think that’s just my normal introverted, awkward self. It sounds silly, or maybe it doesn’t, but Wynonna Earp, WayHaught and Earpers as a whole really helped in making it possible for me to be me. If I hadn’t found wearp I honestly think I would have continued to be a closeted ally. So thank you.

Disclamer: I am not a writer by any means and have major scatter brain when I try to write so this probably reads as a word vomit salad so I hope it makes sense.

An Unraveling

I was in my teens when I started to “like” girls. But I almost immediately would dismiss the notion that I was gay because (a) I “also” liked boys and (b) I grew up in a culture where people, especially if they know you are gay, would refer to you using the local vernacular (“bakla”: Tagalog word referring to gay men and “tomboy”: referring to lesbian/masculine women). So you can say there was that “fear” of being referred to as something else other than who I really am. I “shelved” it in the next few years, I did not give it much thought. I focused on what my family wanted me to do which was to finish my studies. After finishing school, I got myself a job, started providing for my family, I was happily single. I still “liked” boys but would also “appreciate” girls.

Then at 23, I fell madly in love. With a woman. She and I have been friends a few years (I met her at work), but didn’t really think my friendship with her would evolve into anything romantic until she asked me out. The process of embracing this new reality for me, this positive, exhilarating change for me wasn’t hard – I understood that I love her, being near her made me feel alive. I absolutely knew at that moment that I am a lesbian and that there’s no turning back. What became clear to me was that I hesitated in the past because I haven’t found the person who would see through me and love me for who I am, love the best things about me and all the complications in between.

This brand new love gave me the feeling of being “liberated” and being “unstoppable” and couldn’t wait to tell the world about it. I spoke to my mom first, casually telling her that “she” wasn’t just my friend, she’s my girlfriend. The only thing my mom said to me that evening was: “I want for you to have a normal family.” My heart was shattered. And they (my mom and sister) did not speak much to me in the coming months. This was also the phase when I started to spend more time with my girlfriend, staying with her for most of the week and coming home only to quickly check on them or run other errands.

It wasn’t the loving who I want to love that was hard, it was the attempt to find someone who would understand why I need to pursue what my heart wants that was difficult. And when I couldn’t find the support I hoped to get at home, I spoke to my friends, bit by bit. They were supportive and were pretty nonchalant when I came out to them. This helped create a sense of “balance” in my life, knowing that I have people who’d always have my back no matter what. Eventually, my family learned to accept me, and in one family gathering, I overheard my mom talking to my uncle saying that “I am happy as long as I know my daughter is happy.”

Fast forward to today, April 5th, 2020, I am preparing to move to Los Angeles to finally be with my wife. I’ll be seeing her in ten days. We met nearly 4 years ago and decided to get married after a year of being together (took a leap of faith and it’s so darn worth it). It’s been a long and arduous process to get things fixed so we can permanently be in one place but it is finally happening.

This unraveling meant that I needed to stick to what I know is my true path, to what I know is anchored to my humanity. This unraveling meant that I needed to allow my atoms, the “thread” of my whole being to unfurl – without the guarantee that things will work out. This unraveling meant that I needed to simply let myself be in a state of an “undoing,” so that I can be my authentic self, so that I can walk through life with all the courage that I have in me, however the world responds to it. But it was in the “undoing” that I found the will to “do” what it takes to be who I am, and to have in my life what I genuinely desire to fill it with – the chance to love and be loved and the chance to be so utterly proud of how He made me.