Community Rainbow Waves

The Right People Will Always Stand By You

I knew when I was 14 that I was a lesbian. I actually had a friend in the LGBTQIA+ community that I had talked about for a while. When I was questioning my sexuality and trying to understand why I was feeling disconnected from all the girls talking about the Hemsworth brothers. We would be up at night, and he would just ask me questions. “What attracts you to a person? What do you imagine your partner to look like? What type of people catches your eye? Is there someone that you like now?” It just helped to have someone asking and just listening. A year later, as a kind of joke later when I was telling him about the people that I’ve told, he said, “You never officially told me you’re a lesbian.” Anyone who studied the performative understands where this is a little funny. He has just been such a great rock for me, and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

I came out to people in so many different ways. I told someone at dinner at IHOP. A friend I already came out to gave me an opening, and I said, “I haven’t told my parents this yet, but I’m gay.” She didn’t make any jokes or say, “I hope you aren’t trying to make a move on me” or anything like that. She was just supportive, and I could not ask for better friends in my life. It became a game of who have I told and who can they say things in front of. I sent someone Ally Hill’s Coming Out song, others from texts, during ice skating, and now just from passing comments rather than me announcing it to everyone.

The person I was most scared to tell was a teacher that became more of a friend over the years. I wanted to tell her because she saved me from myself and gave me the best chemistry education I could ask for. As she was my teacher, she couldn’t discuss her stance on things, so I had no idea how she would react. She moved schools, and I felt like telling her deserved more than an email, so I waited for when she visited, and I gave her a letter. It explained I was gay when I knew why I wanted to tell her, and why I am so scared. She emailed me later and said, “there is nothing you can do or say that will make me love you any less, ok?” It just made me feel like everything is ok and that I’m not going to lose someone over this part of me.

I tell people that I feel are important in my life, and I refuse to tell people that would put me in a bad situation or disregard it in any way. I’m 17, and I haven’t told anyone in my family, but I’ve told the people that I feel comfortable with it. Coming out will be something constant, and everyone has the right to come out when and how they want. There is no time frame and no expectations other than being authentically you. I’ve had a very positive coming out experience. Still, a lot of people don’t have that, and I want people to know that you will always have this community in your corner. You’re not alone, and we will all be here for you.

Christine

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.

A human that can’t pick a label

I knew that I was different when I started to have a crush on someone that in society would deem abnormal/not under social norms. If I was straight, it would not be weird if i had a crush on a male teacher, honestly people would have praised it and would have said that was normal. But as a female having a crush on a female teacher, that would be what some may call weird or disgusting just because I am a female. I am a feminine female, i love wearing dresses, make up and what you would consider “girly things”.Having a Christian/Anglican upbringing I didn’t see people or a person I could relate to growing up. My brain has battles with itself; when i was in junior school (5-12yrs old) I had crushes on many boys, I could relate to my friends but as i started entering high school, I couldn’t relate to my friends much anymore because i was not only interested in boys; i was interested in girls too and by the time i was 15 i saw someone that i could relate to on TV. Even though i saw representation, my head was still filled with battles about labeling my sexuality, so i can just come out and be me. I was telling myself that Bisexuality is what I am because I am attracted to both male and female; but it did not feel right having that label. I was not comfortable about that label. Then looked up quizzes for what my sexuality was. Most of them just said I was curious, honestly i felt offended. I’ve always said that people deserve to be loved and to love someone other than themselves. I found the term Queer and Pansexual I said, I related to both equally. But I just don’t feel like a label fits me. I just love love and want to feel loved and be loved. That’s all that should matter.

I am pansexual

Well I came out when I was in 3ed grade so about 9 years old and I dint quite remember haw I told everyone but I remember camping with my older sister and brother who are also bothe gay and twins. We where only 3 years apart roughly and I met this girl that I just gruled over and both hannah and alex where like giving me shit about it bc I was super close to them and we talked about everything anyway we ened up having a cheesy kiss under the slide at the park near the lake and then ran 2 my mom gushing about it and she was like WOW THATS GRATE. Then when we left she said t ok her mom this is my new BOYFRIEND and I was like I’m not a boy and she never spoke to me agen but I naw new that I didn’t cair who new. Naw some advice the bigidt risk in life is never taking any cuz then you will never know. And sorry my spelling sucks.

Samantha – Homoromantic Demisexual – She/Her/Hers

My story takes place in Texas, commonly known as one of the least open-minded states in the United States. My story is a long one, as my identity evolved drastically through time. I am blessed, however, to have grown up in a very loving and accepting family. I’ve known members of the LGBTQ2IA+ community my whole life, yet I never really considered it for myself until I was around 16. As a kid everyone would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up and I would stay silent because there’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted to be. Happy. At 16 I had no idea who I was and how could I be happy when I didn’t even know what or who I wanted in life. I honestly didn’t have much to go off of, I’d never had so much as a crush on anyone, regardless of gender. I credit much of my realization to the love I have for television. At 16 I would watch pairings like Clarke and Lexa from the 100 and it helped me to accept the fact that maybe I was gay. I say that like I was just like “Yep, I’m gay” but honestly I just felt like I needed to put a label on myself and although “gay” didn’t really feel like it fit who I was completely, I didn’t really know what else I could be. I could imagine myself in a relationship with a woman in a way that, to this day, I cannot imagine with a man. And honestly, the thought terrified me. Society can be cruel, as can my mind. I began to ask myself if the “unconditional” love my parents had for me was truly that, or if I would lose everything and everyone I love in one fell swoop by coming out. I mentally weighed the options countless times and basically began to prepare for the worst. Family and friends have always been the most important thing in my life and therefore, I decided that I if I could save my relationships by waiting for the “perfect moment” then that’s what I would do. Fear cost me a year of my life and I quickly learned that the perfect moment does not exist. So I decided to do what I do best, and write it down. See I’ve tried the in person coming out thing and call me a coward, but I am not built for the extra level of stress and anxiety it gave me. So a week after my 17th birthday, I came out to my parents as gay via college application. I don’t think I’ll ever forget holding my breath as they read over my shoulder, nor will I forget the silence that seemed to last forever before my mother sat next to me, turned towards me, and asked…”so you really never want to see men naked????” I laughed and the anxiety began to fade, even if the label wasn’t a perfect fit. I knew it was just the first step to coming out, but I had at least gotten through it alive. Though the inaccuracy of the label I had given myself still bothered me. That’s when I turned to research. So. Much. Research. Why didn’t I experience crushes the same way that other people did? Why did I not care at all about sex in a society that was seemingly obsessed with it? That same week I came across AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, and began to read. I cried. They were describing me. Until that moment I had never heard of asexuality, it was so far off my radar and I quickly learned just how far off everyone else’s radar it was too. Cut to 18 year old me entering college for the first time. At this point I had come out to my immediate family. Again. And a select few of my friends. I had also been told by various people that people like me “shouldn’t exist” or that it was just a phase I would grow out of. I learned how common it was for asexual people to feel broken or even inhuman. People often assume that due to our sexuality, we don’t have emotions or the capacity to love or be loved. A cruel assumption but one that still occasionally plagues my feeling of self-worth. Despite these social pressures however, I entered college wanting nothing more than to be out and proud in this new place with all these new people. For the most part I was, though I knew that for every acquaintance I told, there was a family member that should’ve heard it from me first. So once again, I wrote it down. At 19, I came out on instagram and the same week I mailed 7 coming out letters and just like that, I was out to the world. The most stressful week of my life freed me. I was able to finally live my life as the emotional burden began to lift. Never have I been prouder of myself than in that moment. The 3 year journey led me to finally feeling seen and comfortable with who I am. Flashing forward to my life now as a 20 year old, my journey continues towards self-love. And although the state of the world worries me, I can honestly say that sitting down with my parents during this quarantine and watching Wynonna Earp, I really feel, for the first time in a very long time, happy. #OutIsTheNewIn

Anne , Brasil

At 10, I discovered that there was something different, I realized that I was attracted to a girl who studied with me for a few years. But I was always afraid to expose myself by the judgment of the people around me, most of the time the family says that they accept you, but when we assume who we really are, there is a certain judgment, which is a very sad thing, because they they are always represented by harsh words that I will never forget. At 16, I met a woman who fell in love from the moment I saw her, at 18 I told my parents as a lesbian, and it was terrible. I married this incredible person, who helped me, as well as his family, to be someone better and not be afraid of anything. Today we are no longer together, I still have some fears, because my parents still think it was just a phase, just a long phase of 8 years ne! I continue to work with them and show that it was not a phase, and I am proud to show and raise the flag, and I know that nobody and nothing will silence me anymore. thanks for the opportunity to tell my story.

Thompkell (she/her)

I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”

Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.

I had to make a choice.

So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.

The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.

I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.

Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?

But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.

I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.

Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.

But what is a “coming out story”?

I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.

What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.

And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.

Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.

Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo

Lesbian

I came out when I turned 18 and finished high school. I posted this on my blog for the whole world to see:

I like girls. It seems very easy to say, but it wasn’t for me. Just like many people will say it isn’t. But I’m ready now, ready to be who I really am. No more hiding.

I’m 18 now, but I’ve known for a few years. There are a few reasons why I haven’t told anyone yet and I am still unsure wether this is the best way to do so, but here it goes.

I wanted to resist that I should have to stand up for it. It came so normal for me and I didn’t think it was fair that I would have to justify myself for who I love. I might have hoped that it would become clear by itself.

Another reason was school; I was in a not very accepting school and I was already not accepted by the other students. I didn’t feel safe enough to open myself up. So I waited until I graduated and gave myself this summer to finally be honest with myself and all my friends, family and acquaintances.

The idea to go to Pride was a natural choice, because I think it is so important and I really could use it. I have felt so accepted this weekend, by everyone around me on Pride and it really helped me. The self-confidence of others radiated to me and through that energy I eventually found the courage to express myself. I will always be grateful for that. It were not only strangers who helped me, but also my closest friends who supported me enormously and gave me a lot of love, so that I now dare to be truly proud of myself and who I really am.

I am Charlie, a queer trans male.

I have been misgendered from a very young age.

Whether it was a stranger seeing a boy but being told that I was a girl or by my parents who only ever knew me as a female. Then came my next identity crisis. In primary school, I also had my first crush on a girl which created a new bunch of questions that I didn’t know whom to ask. I hadn’t been taught about the vast spectrum of genders and to the extent that I had a sense of sexuality it was faint at best.

I have always been lucky to be surrounded by people who support me and have loved me for whoever I want to be. However even at the tender age of 11, I was well aware that the world around me was not always going to have my back. This fear of whether or not I would be accepted for who I am kept me from yelling from the rooftops how I felt and how I wanted to look.

I went to a girl’s school in Melbourne, Australia. While this only further awaked my sexuality, it did nothing to help with my doubts over who I was. As a 14-year-old I never felt more different to everyone else around me than when I was at school play acting at being a girl surrounded by other teenagers who were definitely female. Yet due to the limited education that I had received about the gender spectrum I only felt alienated and different, without the comfort of having an identity that I could cling to. Believing that there are only two genders in the world, boy and girl, and that you are what you are born as, sent me to a terrifying and dark place.

Even so, I had the comfort that my friends were supportive of me when I came out as queer. I was so shocked when they shrugged and moved on like it was a completely normal thing, I had to ask them if they had heard what I said. Every LGBT story I had ever read led me to believe that I would receive a negative reaction. However, I believe I have been lucky for my parents were the same, reacting with joy and support.

Later, I discovered the gender spectrum and I have never been more relieved. I found a place that I could home and an identity that I could feel comfortable in.

You would think that after coming out once, a second time would be like a piece of cake. Unfortunately, it was even harder. Before I had known my parents friend who were queer. They had been over for dinner and they had tucked me into my bed. Although I wasn’t certain, I wasn’t too worried. Now I was about to tell them that the daughter they had known for years could no longer be their daughter. Perhaps blurting it out at the dinner table ten minutes before our favourite tv show started wasn’t the best idea but they couldn’t have been more supportive.

Although, with my parents I am now in a place where I can talk to them comfortably about me being their son, I have not reached that level of comfortableness outside, in the real world. It is the sad truth that we do not live in a world where every single person is guaranteed to support you. But from my experience so far, there are many people out there who have my back. As someone who is still afraid to go to public toilets, stutters out that they are girl when questioned in the female bathroom but is too scared that they might be thought of as a fraud in the male bathrooms, I applaud those who stand strong and say I don’t care what the world thinks, this is me and I am proud. As a person who does not correct my grandmother when she calls me Sophie, even though my name has been Charlie for three years, I read Dom’s message and I smile, for a person who I have looked up to for so long has stood up and paved the way for many people to truly be themselves.

With the courage from Dom’s coming out, I stand here and I yell from the rooftops that I am a Queer Trans Male and I could not be more proud of who I am.

#OutIsTheNewIn

Kathy V.

I am a woman who will be 60 next April, so I come from a time and place where expressing to the world, or at least your family and friends, that you are a Lesbian was not accepted by many. I was around 30 (similar to Dominique) when I finally let people know my truth, my identity. It was one of the scariest and most liberating times of my life. I received some backlash from family and friends but the knowledge that I was being honest for the first time in my life and what I gained from that was worth more than what I lost in relationships. That, to me, is what helped me to finally feel like a whole/complete person. Knowing that I may lose a relationship I shared with someone that had meant a great deal to me for many years. But the TRUTH is, the relationship wasn’t honest and without honesty there can be no depth to any relationship.

I have been fortunate to cultivate relationships over the years with people who do accept me for who I am and I do the same in return. Keeping positive people in your life is the key to living the very best you can.

If I had not come out to at least to myself I would have never attained one of the greatest gifts of my life, my relationship with my partner of over 20 years. She was one of the brightest light in my life and because of her I care deeper for others, give more of my time, help other humans that may need a lift in their life, and most importantly view all people equally. She passed away in March 2020 of a long term illess. But even in her struggles with her health, and there were many, she always put others first. I struggle sometimes with the deep loss I feel and it often times overwhelms me for the sweet soul I have lost from my life, my touch stone. But than I realize I must try to help others for that’s what her life was all about. Even on the most difficult of days she would offer to help someone else without complaint. I don’t believe I can express in words just how generous she was and what a wonderful human being.

So I want anyone who is struggling to know, I am here for you. If you need an ear to listen or voice to help find the answers to your questions, I am here for you. I dont’ have all the answers myself, no one does, but I have been through many difficult situations in this life and have many years of experiences from which to pull. I have spoken/counciled others who are strugging with their identity and how to be accepted by others, and more importantly, accept themselves. I just want you to know that if there is a way I can help I am available.