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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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I’m autistic and queer…

It is exceedingly difficult in itself having a condition like autism that has made you different since you are born. It is difficult to be singled out as a child as different, and to be judged for your behavior, for the way you communicate, for how you think or see the world. But, how difficult it is, when growing up you realize that autism was not your only difference but also who you have been attracted to. It is a very lonely journey, doubly judged, where anxiety, fears take over you. Feeling confused, that you do things wrong, is a very heavy burden. but, you have to be brave, brave to assume who we really are. Assuming that the way you process the world is not wrong, nor who you decide to love. The journey through life is uphill, but not because of what they will say you must stop being you.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

Queer Woman

I first questioned my sexuality in high school, after I dumped this boy I was dating because I just wasn’t feeling it. I got home from school and told my mum about it and out of nowhere she asked me if I was gay. I had never encountered the idea, but as soon as that question was asked, the closet door opened a smidge for me. It was abruptly slammed shut again when my mum followed up her question with “well you better not be, I’d have to disown you”. I figured that it was a possibility but thinking that I liked guys, it was probably better not to look into it.

I moved out and went away for university and continued to suppress it. I had a lot of great guy friends and they loved to roast me with lesbian jokes, so all I wanted was to prove them wrong and I really didn’t want my mum to be right so I put a lot of energy into hiding away. I saw these amazing confident queer women in uni and instead of seeking freedom I suffocated myself with thoughts about the shame and shut down further out of fear. I turned to alcohol to take my mind off and when that started screwing with my health, I focussed on my fitness, trying to literally run away from my queerness. I tried to enjoy staying single and resolved that I could get love in other ways because I had great friends. I decided that it was better for me to just be alone than to deal with coming out. I was wrong. I thought it would be easy, but I knew who I was and was still so deeply unhappy knowing that I’d never get a shot at what I actually wanted.

That all changed when my sister was diagnosed with cancer. She is 4 years younger than me (and in remission now), and at the time it immediately made me realize that life was too short not to live it in full colour. Between visits to her in the hospital I coped by trying to date again. I met a lot of great people, but something instantly clicked everything into place for me with one woman in particular. I lied and tried to hide it for a while but as my connection with her grew stronger it became impossible. I started by telling one person.. then my sisters, then just spilling all the beans to all of my closest friends after a few drinks on my 25th birthday. By the time I told my mum I was confident I’d be ok because I had other great support, but she ended up being so amazing about it. All of the fear and shame about how people would react was all in my head, everyone was so happy to see me actually happy. I never would have predicted 6 years ago that I’d be where I am today. I am BLISSFULLY married to that woman, out and proud with the love of my life, hopefully for the rest of my life. Don’t shut away what’s in your heart or parts of yourself for anyone or anything. You are not alone, and you are loved, and I am here with y’all. Living your truth may not always be easy, but I promise it’ll light the path for a bright future for you. Peace, love and rainbows

It Took a While…

For as long as I can remember I’ve never been a girly girl. I liked playing with the cars and army men. I loved getting in the dirt and playing contact sports with the boys because it was more fun that way. I justified it as just “being one of the guys” because I grew up with brothers. My mother scolded me when I wouldn’t sit lady like, she tried forcing me into dresses, and always complained my hair was always in a ponytail. I’ve never been the “ideal” girl from the get go.

As a teenager in middle school I found myself drawn to girls. I didn’t care what we did I just wanted to be around them. I was hurt more by rejection from them than I was from the boys. The boys I would threaten and they still would chase after me, but the girls were the ones I wanted to please.

Fast forward to high school, I was on the softball team and the oldest stereotype in the book is if you play softball you are indeed a lesbian. Although I knew I preferred girls I never made the connection that I liked them. I got defensive, I got angry, but all along the people were right about me. Being from a small conservative town in the Midwest it wasn’t something I ever saw though, so I pushed that part of me away and tried to push my feelings down and decided to always have a boyfriend. It was fine at first, but as soon as they wanted more I would break up with them because “I just didn’t feel that way anymore.” It was tough on me and my reputation, but I really didn’t care. I could be cold and distant and not even feel bad because my heart wasn’t in it. I fell for my best friend and it ended up poorly as she didn’t feel the same and was weirded out by me having those feelings. It hurt for a long time and again I turned into the cold, distant person.

College I continued the same behavior, but was successful in suppressing my feelings for a couple years. Until I had time out on my own trying to figure out who I was. Finally when I was away from home I embraced those feelings I had and had my first same sex relationship. I was forced to come out to my mom who cried and was upset but in the end didn’t disown me. The relationship ended badly and it made me rethink my feelings. Was I really into girls? Will all of this happen again if I try to be with a girl? Am I really gay?

It took me a year to find a healthy relationship with a woman, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I have been apart of the LGBTQIA+ family for a very long time, but it took me until I was 21 to finally see it.

Currently I’m 24 (almost 25) and have came out to my family and my friends and have never felt more myself! Wynonna Earp I started watching last year and instantly fell in love with the writing, the actors, and the representation. This show made me see it’s okay to go after what you want and who you want because the real family you have will accept you and love you no matter what. The strength and courage I needed was brought to me by seeing that representation and couldn’t be more grateful for the amazing people who made it happen!

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

Blood & Water

Growing up I had an open relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. My mom was a very good listener and had a gift for making her home a safe place for kids. I have distinct memories of my best friends, going through rough times (either life-altering crisis…or in hindsight not so serious teenage dramatics) coming over to feel “heard.” She’d listen and understand and when she’d leave after hugging us goodnight my friends would often say something like “I wish my mom and I could talk that way.”

Fast forward to the summer of my senior year in college. At the time I was in a 2-year relationship with a beautifully kind guy my family, and heck myself thought I’d marry soon after graduating. I was taking a summer course and decided to live in the dorms with one of my best college friends and teammate, “Bell.” (for purposes of this story) Her best friend/partner, now spouse, was bunked up with a girl that would end up playing a pretty big role in my coming out story. “Bell” was pretty involved in the LGBTQ community as her partner had at that time recently come out as trans. By then they had fought through most of what would be their uphill battle as an LGBTQ couple at a very Catholic school. This context is important because by that summer I had introduced them to my mom. She was kind and treated them like any other person I cared about. This little detail will throw me for a loop later…

One summer night a group of us decided to go to a Gay club. It wasn’t my first time going, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say some part of me knew something was going to happen. The night ended with me kissing the girl I mentioned and making the conscious decision to see what sleeping with her felt like. My understanding of my sexuality at that time was that I enjoyed having sex with men, I loved a few along the way…and if I ever found myself being attracted to women, I’d simply add them to the list of people I was also into. I’d say I had a very matter of fact feeling about my sexuality. Love is Love… and I’m straight.

My mom called the next morning and I answered, “Hi, I’m hungover as hell and a girl kissed me last night.” I remember her laughing and asking if I was going to tell my boyfriend. The conversation went on and now that I’ve since been to therapy (which rocks btw) I can clearly remember the sound of how casually I lied to my mom. The truth was that I was interested in this girl since summer started, I leaned in first, she leaned in back, we kissed, and I made the mental call to go home with her that night. I realized I was slightly full of shit when it came to honesty. With others…and myself. Sure, I kissed girls in High School on “dares,” but never admitted I liked it and maybe… (not so maybe) put myself in a position to take those particular dares on purpose. I told myself, my parents, and friends what made sense about boyfriends I genuinely loved as people, but possibly never really liked as partners.

All in all, the open relationship I thought I had with my parents wasn’t so open. And that was on me. However, the fears that kept me from being honest then and now (still healing) were realized when I broke things off with my boyfriend and called my mom to tell her I was, “pursuing a relationship with the girl” I had told her about. She screamed, my parents cried, they cancelled my phone plan, closed my bank account, sicced my very Mexican very old school grandma on me, and of course, “cursed the day they spent 6 figures sending me to a Catholic school to become a lesbian,” etc. I laugh at this all now (again… thank you therapy) because it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to start “adulting,” but I’d be remiss to say it didn’t crush me. A. because I was surprised, they reacted the way they did given how open they had been with my friends and their experiences. (Although clearly my subconscious was on to something lol) B. I began to associate my self-worth with monetary value. Money and acceptance were twisted into a very messy and conditional thing that I would later need to work out. Money of course screaming PRIVELEGE. (Insert: Unlike a lot of my LGBTQ family I am a white passing, middle class, college educated women, and because of these things I was born into I was in an ideal position to get back on my feet, quickly.) And acceptance of course being something too many of us struggle with on a daily basis.

Fast forward to ending a very toxic and abusive relationship with the girl from the gay bar, moving into my own place (parents eagerly paying for the Uhaul when I announced I had left her… there’s an ironic gay joke in there somewhere) and meeting my now wife amid the chaos. At that point I was out to my friends and sister but had never said the words “I’m Gay” to my parents. Sidenote: I never said those words to my friends or sister either, beautifully enough I simply told them I’ve met this amazing girl and it’s going well…they didn’t need the labels.

After 6 months of dating my then girlfriend I told my parents I was in a relationship. Fast forward another 6 months of my dad telling me they weren’t ready to meet her I decided to propose knowing I couldn’t wait for them to come around. We got married a year and a half later and they didn’t show up to the wedding. We’ve been married for 2 years and are now trying to start our family!

They probably won’t ever meet my wife, and our future kids, but I’ve learned that coming out and coming into myself was something I did unconditionally. A sort of promise I made to myself and the world (Insert: source or the universe, g.d, or whatever works for you) that I would dedicate my authenticity to the balance of justice and harmony. And although that balancing act is sometimes very hard with people like my parents it makes for clear boundaries… simply put, seek justice when the rights of others are at risk (i.e when I don’t stand up for myself, my community…or other marginalized peoples)…and seek harmony when recognizing one another’s humanity will birth compassion and perhaps strides towards progress and understanding. (I struggle with the latter)

The last and most important thing I’d like to share, and the gift of my life is my chosen family. It may be cliché and an unfortunate necessity for many of us in the LGBTQ community, but the friends I have found and the family I have built is more than I could have imagined. I have a sister that walked me down the aisle, best friends whose parents showed up to celebrate my engagement, witness my first look with my wife, celebrate my marriage, create and celebrate new holiday traditions, and last but not least show up for every major life moment no matter the miles between us. I’ve found friends and bonus parents that will help raise my children and teach me how to be a wife, mother and the best version of myself. Sure, there is pain, but like many quotes that are historically misinterpreted, “blood is thicker than water,” really means that the blood shared on the battlefield is thicker than the water of the womb. And trust me the people who have chosen to fight for me and those I’ve chosen to fight beside are sure as shit there. Always.

For anyone needing to hear this: “You are loved, and it gets better.”

Honest liar to bisexual fire

It’s hard to say when I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ community. Coming out to myself and to everyone else, including family, was a slow process that took years. This was probably due to one, growing up in the 90’s/early 2000’s and two, growing up in the South (as in conservative Southern American States). I knew I was different from a young age, maybe around five or six years of age. I loved sports and loved playing with the boys at school, whether it be soccer, rugby or street hockey; even though female activities like playing with barbies and the color pink were encouraged. I remember being the only girl in fourth grade playing hockey with the boys. The guidance counselor, Mr. B, pulled me in his office one day and said that I could not play anymore. When I asked why, he said it was because I was a girl and it’s a boy’s activity. The boys did not want me to play with them (maybe because I was just as good, if not better).

Fast forward to middle and high school, we had moved to a very small town with around 90 people in my graduating class. I had mostly male friends, and a few good female friends. I struggled with my sexuality and tried to suppress thoughts and feelings. I was an anxious wreck (like most of us) at this age. I remember flipping through the few channels we had and stopping on an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, “Seeing Red”. I think this was probably my first sort of “awakening” to the LGBTQ community. I had never seen this show before, but I had heard of it. There were two females on TV and they were in bed together, kissing! My mind was blown 🙂 This was the late 90’s/early 00’s and we didn’t have smart phones or the queer representation you see in TV shows, tumblr, etc. that we have today. This kind of thing was sacreligious where I grew up (and still is for a lot of people). Needless to say I binge watched the show and fell in love. Willow and Tara’s relationship, and the acceptance among peers on the show, was the first of its kind on television and it was influential for so many people. Their relationship showed me that it’s okay to love someone of the same sex, and it’s hard to imagine this today, but that kind of acceptance just wasn’t part of the culture in which I was raised. I found the wonderful world of fanfiction and began to explore the LGBTQ community.

My parents raised me to be honest. I am a horrible liar and anyone who really knows me will know I am lying immediately. It’s something I value very much in myself and the people I surround myself with. The internal struggle to be honest with myself while also hiding an important piece of who I was from others was so exhausting. And I didn’t even realize what I was doing for years. I slowly began to accept myself in high school, after watching things like Buffy, Gia, etc. But there were setbacks. I was taunted and made fun of by my peers in school after slipping up and making a gay joke with one of my friends. The rumor I was a lesbian spread like wildfire and I vehemently denied it, hoping my parents would not find out. My mother found a few notes between my friends and I that were filled with immature/lewd jokes. One of those friends happened to be my best friend; a girl I had a bit of a crush on. We occasionally flirted and I could tell she liked me too, but nothing ever happened. When my mother read the notes between us, she sat me down and asked me if I was “gay or bi”. She was so upset that I was scared to be honest and denied it. My parents threatened to send me to a catholic school if I didn’t straighten up (pun intended haha). So, I withdrew that part of myself again, and it took several years to come to terms with who I truly was. Shame is a powerful thing. Especially when it is used to mold young, impressionable minds.

College was definitely a different experience. I could not wait to move on from the small-minded town/high school of my teenage years into a more open minded, accepting atmosphere. I moved out of my parent’s house as soon as I could (18 or 19) and started college. As I distanced myself from the judgmental, shameful environment in which I was raised I, again, slowly began to realize/accept who I was. I finished my Associates degree and decided to join the military in my early 20’s. This changed my life. I had preconceived about the military from things I had seen on television, but it was nothing like Hollywood portrayed (surprise). You trained hard and played hard as a family. The military was in front of a lot of the civilian population in social movements (and that was a legitimate surprise!). Acceptance of all races, ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations, etc. is drilled into you from day one. And it is a problem for some, but for most the struggle of military life brings you together, regardless of background and culture. The same year I joined was the same year the military repealed the “Don’t ask don’t tell” (DADT) act which was a policy implemented by the Clinton administration that barred discrimination/bullying to closeted homosexuals while banning openly gay people from serving. After the repeal of DADT, and several equal opportunity lawsuits, same-sex marriage and spouse benefits were eventually incorporated. Some states were definitely ahead of this act, however, the South struggled with these Obama administration policies.

At this point in my life, I had dated and been in a few long-term relationships with men (well more like boy-men :). But they all ended the same. The beginning was fun and exciting, then we would end up being more like good friends and I would end it. I was never interested in marriage and definitely could not see myself marrying a man. I was more comfortable in my own skin in my mid-20’s and began to identify as bi. I didn’t openly come out and tell people, but I didn’t deny my attraction to females either. As I progressed in my military career and traveled the world, I met so many people from different cultures. I don’t know any official statistics for the LGBTQ community in the military, but I have met SO many since I joined. This acceptance enabled me to explore my true self in a safe environment, and I will be forever grateful to the military for this. I don’t go home often, but when I do, I still feel uneasy and somewhat ashamed to be myself (something I am working on).

At 29 years old, I met the love of my life. Something I didn’t think existed. We met in a training program in the military and immediately hit it off. We became fast friends and shortly after realized it was way more than friendship. It felt like a tiny flame had burst into a raging fire inside me, and I had never been happier in my life. I had a few flings in college and after joining the military, but I had never been in a relationship with a woman. A lot of things were very new for me, but everything just felt right for the first time in my life. I knew this was it and I came out to my family, very slowly. I told my siblings, closest aunts and uncles, and my father and grandparents and they were all very supportive, to my surprise. I had great anxiety about coming out to the family, but it was all worth it for her. The last person I told was my mother, because I knew this would be the most difficult. But it turned out to be more difficult than I could imagine. She did not take the news well and does not accept our relationship, mostly due to religious reasons. It has taken a toll on our already strained relationship.

We were engaged on May 2019 and married at the beginning of this year. After training, we both went to our separate duty stations and have been separated for the better part of three years. One of the unfortunate things about a military career is the time sacrificed from loved ones. Due to COVID-19 and the restriction of military movement, we have remained separated. It has been the hardest three years of my life, but every second was worth our eventual reunion. One of the things we do to pass the time is binge watch television shows. We started watching Wynonna Earp last year after she came back from a six-month deployment. Waverly and Nicole’s relationship is such a beautiful relationship and we have loved watching the character developments. Growing up with almost zero LGBTQ representation in the media makes me appreciate a amazing shows like WE. Thank you Dom, Mel, Kat, Emily, Tim and the rest of the cast and crew for helping my wife and I get through these tough times!

Victhoria – Brazil

My name is Victhoria and I currently live in Brazil!

I came out has lesbian when I was 17 years old.
I’ve always knew I’d liked girls from a very young age, but growing up in a religious family, I tried to hide and suppressed those feelings.

I tried to date boys but I didn’t feel right, I just couldn’t carry a relationship with boys, so when I was 15 I had my first gay experience and then I understood what was that I felt and start to find myself.

When I came out to my family it was the most scary and brave thing that I’ve ever done.
It was hard at first, but now, thankfully, my family loves and support me and my relationship.

Be true to yourself, it’s a scary path but it’s worth it !

I went through enxiety and panic attacks but when you are true to yourself it’s liberating and free .

To all the people who are afraid to come out, don’t be , there will be people that will love you, support you and accept you for who you are !

Love to all

I am bisexual right now.

I started to question my sexuality a lot a few years ago when I met someone who I was really into but was the same gender as me. She was amazing and I was scared. I was also very confused because I liked girls and guys. I am still confused and not super into labels so I just love who I love. I’ve come out to a few people, but not everyone. I am still trying to work up my self confidence to fully come out. I think you love who you love, and that’s the beauty of it.