Community Rainbow Waves

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

An unhappy story with a happy beginning

I was 12-13 years old

I started to really notice that I was not like my female friends ( talking about boys they liked, how they dressed, how they presented themselves). I always just attributed it to being a “tomboy”. I mean, I didn’t even really know what being a lesbian was at that time. So then their was 13 year old me, finding out that the real reason I would always develop feelings for all my female friends and never feeling that same way towards any of my guy friends was because I was in fact gay.

At the time of that realization, being gay was alway talked about in a negative light; that it was something to be teased and made fun of for. Even my closest friends and family were always making “gay jokes”. Not necessarily at someone else’s expense, but definitely in a way that would scare me more and more into the closet. And to make matters worse, during this time was also when I learned about Mathew Shepard.

I distinctly remember watching an episode of the Ellen degeneres show. On the show that day, she was talking to Mathew’s mother. She talked about her son and the horrible things that were done to him because he was gay. I remember weeping and shaking in fear. Fear that if I ever came out that I might be faced with the same cruelty. So I kept it a secret.

Cue the many years of anxiety and depression.

Being a 13 year old girl was hard enough. So now add in my crippling fear of what might happen if someone found out I was gay. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was actually attracted to men. but it seemed that every time I would tell myself that being with a man wouldn’t be so bad, I would get so sad. Like all the color in the world was obliterated and I was left with this dark, cold world that I felt I didn’t belong too. And unfortunately those dark feelings lead to dark thoughts. I remember always telling myself that I would kill my self before I’d tell anyone. I hated myself for who I was and I hated myself even more for not being able to change who I was.

I couldn’t understand why I felt so scared for so long. Times were changing and I could see all of the progress that was being made at the time. Granted, their was still some work to be done, but progress nonetheless. Looking back on it now, I was actually one of the lucky ones. I had amazing parents. My dad who was ever open minded to all walks of life and a mom who would do anything just to see me happy and safe. Neither one of them would turn their back on me for being gay. Instead, they love me unconditionally. But I still always had that “what if” in the back of my mind. What if I’m wrong about them. What if this is the one thing that breaks the camels back. What if.

These thoughts and feelings went on for years. They got so bad that I began feeling physical pain. I could handle it anymore. So at 15 I attended suicide.

I won’t get to far into the details of it, but afterwards I remember just looking at myself in the mirror. I looked for so long. Looking for the reason I was still here.

It dawned on me that I was still here for my mom and dad. But I was also still here for my little brothers and all the people who truly care about me. I was also here for the chance that maybe one day their will be someone who is in the same place I was and the only thing standing in the way them and the same bad choice I made was proof that light will shine on them through the cracks of the dark room they are in for now. Was I ready to come out yet? No! But I was ready to start loving myself.

It took a lot of work, but eventually I got to a place where I was feeling ready to step out of the closet. I had it all planned out too. I was about to graduate from high school and it was going to be my graduation gift to myself.

However.

Two days before graduation, my mother passed away unexpectedly. I was more lost than I was ever before. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t breathe; even getting out of bed was an impossible task. Revealing my truth way put on the back burner for the time being. But time just went on and on and I still just hadn’t told anyone that I was gay. Not because I was ashamed of it or anything but because I just didn’t see the point in it anymore. I grieved for years, shit I still do. My mom was my hero. Out of every one in the world, I was more excited to share this part of myself with her the most. I missed my chance though and I will regret that for the rest of my life.

Now. The day I finally decided to come out to someone, I had not planned it out at all. The opportunity was there and I just fuck it, nothing could be more painful than what I’ve been going through with the loss of my mom. So essentially I really have nothing to lose.

The first person I told was my best friend. This guy really knows everything about me. He always had his suspicions, but he alway wanted me to feel comfortable enough with myself to say anything. But when I finally did tell him, he almost didn’t believe me. When I finally convinced him he said, ” well shit! What the hell took you so long!” He followed it up by saying ” I’m proud of you and I love you no matter what.”

For the first time since I was 13, I felt like I could really breathe again. That first breath I took after telling him brought me to tears. Not to sound cheesy or anything, but I felt alive! Little by little I started telling more people. Once I told just about everyone, the only one left to tell was my dad. I started to feel a little bit of that old familiar fear when I thought about telling him. I just couldn’t get the words out. But on June 26,2015 ( the same day the marriage equality act was passed in Congress) it was like the universe was telling me that now was a better time than any.

I waited all day for him to come home from work. The whole time I was giving myself pep talks. When he finally got home, I instantly started shaking. I was so nervous. He could tell that their was something wrong with me. He asked if I was okay. With tear filled eyes and a shaky voice, I said it, ” dad, I’m gay.”
He rapped his arms around me and said, “I know! And mom knew too.” That was the most comforting feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. He went on to tell me that they could both tell that I was gay, even when I was little. Jokingly I said I wish they would have made me aware of that. He told me that they wanted me to be comfortable and ready enough for myself to say something.

Ever since I have come out, life in itself, has been a million times better. I no longer fear the world knowing my truth. The air is sweeter and the world has color again. My life didn’t end because I came out of the closet. Instead I got a happy beginning to a life I am so eager to live.

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

Feel free to exhale homosexuality

For me, understanding my sexuality has meant going through several mental chaos. Before understanding my sexual identity, I had to first understand my sexuality. In my adolescence, while everyone was talking about girls, boys, sex or kissing, I only thought about playing sports and going to the movies. I was not attracted to anyone, neither boys nor girls. And that made me feel like a freak, because everyone was already having a partner or, at least, a taste for someone, except me. I went out with a couple of guys and those have been (until now, 10 years later) the most boring dates of my life.
Also, before discovering my homosexuality I discovered sexual pleasure through masturbation. The first times I felt guilty about doing it because everybody knows that men masturbate, but what a horror if a girl does it. And so, for a couple more years, I was still not attracted to anyone, and did not need to have anyone.
It wasn’t until I entered college that I met the love of my life. This girl stirred up each and every one of my hormones that, until that moment, seemed dead. Unfortunately, it was an unrequited love, because she was suffering for a boy who did not pay as much attention to her as I was suffering for her.
The first person I told about my possible homosexuality was my best friend. His words of comfort (because yes, for him that confession was comforting) were “Relax, you’re not gay, you’re just confused. Let me tell you, there is nothing more confusing than when you are told you are confused. His consolation created a (other) mental chaos for me: how do I know if what I’m feeling is real or if I’m making it up? How do I know if I’m one hundred percent sure of something or if I’m confused and haven’t noticed? Furthermore, what does it mean that I am confused?
With those doubts in my head I entered my first relationship. The first month was a mental chaos because it was my first time (in every way), and it was with a girl. Because of the macho and conservative country I live in (Peru), being gay was seen as something negative. (Level: the same police officers assaulted both gays and lesbians) So, for someone like me, who has always tried to do the right thing and be a better person in every way, the idea of being gay made me ashamed. I mean, I knew it wasn’t a bad thing per se, but I was embarrassed that I wasn’t “normal. I was embarrassed to be something that was seen in a bad light. That’s why I didn’t tell my parents about it. However, as the days went by the mental chaos became more acute, so I thought it would be best to talk about it, maybe I could lean on them to understand me…. The reaction they had was shocking. You definitely don’t really know your family until you come out of the closet. From my mother I expected some rejection for being Catholic, but there was only silence. Not a single word for several days. Until she came over one night and told me to be careful because I could get AIDS. Yes, AIDS. It was the middle of the 21st century and I still believed that you get AIDS just by coming out of the closet.
On the other hand, my father is half relaxed, to the point of letting my brother smoke marijuana in the house. But it seems that drugs are not as serious as homosexuality. As soon as I finished telling him that I thought he was gay, my father started crying. There is nothing more ridiculous than seeing a big, loud person cry because his daughter is a lesbian. He started crying because it turns out that homosexuality is a disease. It turns out that homosexuality is a product of some childhood trauma. It turns out that homosexuality is an impediment to marrying and giving birth to grandchildren. And, in between cries, she began to apologize for whatever she did to make me believe it was “it”.
So far, when I think about that scene, I am aware that my departure was not tragic, it was just disappointing. At that moment I realized that I was alone in all that mental chaos. And I accepted it. You’re not always going to have someone to lean on, so I decided to raise myself to be my own source of support. But, of course, going through that chaos alone is not easy. It took me several more years before I could stop feeling ashamed of myself, and feel truly comfortable in my own skin. And it is only now, at 28, that I feel free to breathe out my homosexuality.
Now, because I’m half antisocial, my story hasn’t inspired anyone (because I don’t talk to anyone), but, if anyone keeps reading this far, what I can tell you is that, it’s not about forcing someone to accept you, it’s about how, as long as you love yourself, little by little things and people around you are going to shape up to you. And, one more thing, Respect. Even if someone lowers himself to the level of disrespect or seeks to harm you, as long as you hold your head up high, little by little you will be the one who wins.
Thank you very much for reading this will. Much love.
Ariana.

In a Cocoon

I’m torn about telling my story. i hardly know what my story is because I’m still trying to find my truth but i know that there’s power within a community. In finding people who are like you, who understand you, and who accept you. I also know that by telling our stories, we affect change in greater ways than any of us can imagine.
So I want to be a part of that change and I want to give my voice in this growing wave of transformation.
I hope it’s heard.

The first time I thought I was gay, I couldn’t stop smiling.
I just walked around the house all day with an ear-splitting grin plastered to my face and thinking over and over again that “I like girls.”
I wanted to shout it out from the rooftops and tell everyone I knew and loved that I’d finally found a part of myself that was hidden for so long. I wanted to let them know that I’d regained a love for myself and rediscovered a love for others that I never knew existed. And that I felt complete.
I couldn’t contain it any longer than a couple days so i told my twin sister, and she rejoiced with me. We confided in each other about our own individual experiences with our sexualities and for so long she was the only one who knew. She was the only one who I’d trade jokes and secret knowing glances with when my aunts and uncles asked about a boyfriend. She was my rock when I’d have crushes and couldn’t help but gush about them; she was my safe space.
She was there for the joy in the beginning and she’s here for the heartbreak in the now. Even though we’re separated and hundreds of miles apart, she’s still here.

It’s been 43 days since I’ve come out and 42 since I’ve been kicked out of the house. When my mom found out, she said that she didn’t want a homosexual daughter and that love is sanctified between a man and a woman. To feel anything different is unnatural, unholy, and wicked.
The sad thing is, I used to believe that for the longest time about myself too, but it wasn’t until all of this that now i can confidently say that the way i love is beautiful. I’ve never felt anything more natural than loving women and i love it.
So through all of my couch-surfing, car-living, night-crying days, I can’t help but feel the weight lifted from my shoulders. I feel like i can finally breathe after all this time, and I’ve never felt more….liberated. By being able to live authentically, I’ve learned to not only love people in greater ways, but myself as well.
So I still don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight, or if i’ll be able to go home anytime soon, but one thing I know for certain is that I’m finally able to start living my truth.

Just your regular girl who likes girls

I knew when i was younger that I’ve always felt different, I would only hang out with the boys in my class in would find it way easier to talk to them. But when it came to girls, I always became shy and felt kinda wierd. Now 4/5 years later I know what it is. I like girls. As easy as it sounds, but it isn’t always easy. My coming out was really nice but unexpected though… my two best friends (both girls) were joking with me because I’m always really curious. So one day they said they had some secret of some sorts, I kept on asking what it was and in the end they said that they were dating. And I freaked out, in a good way though. I said to them that I support them no matter what is happening. Then one of them said if I had to tell them something (as in am i gay), and I said yes and I tild them my story and that I had been struggling a lot with it just a few months before it. Lucky for me they were so supportive, i was really shaking when i told them because it was the part that i’ve hidden for almost my whole life. And on top of that, one of them also came out after I told them (lets just call her Laura for example). Laura told me she had been struggling with the same thing… After that we talked the whole night about. It was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. I haven’t come out to my family yet but i think they and actually know that they know because it’s pretty clear. I know that my parents are going to be fine about it, but I don’t know how Laura her parents going to react. They are really religious, but that isn’t my story to tell.

So I’ll introduce my self real quick…
I’m Karlijn, I’m 15 years old and I am Gay
And I’m proud of it!
If you ever want to talk to me about your situation, I’m pretty much always awake so hmu at @karlijn_dmooij on ig. Because I’m here for you

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.

Sasha

Everyone is born free, free to be. And I find it so very sad that the way that our world works, changes that as we grow. The older we get, the more we realize that in order to be genuine we have to be really strong willed and have a solid support base. In most cases, we adapt…our once loose laughs, become controlled ones, our beautiful tears become a rarity and bit by bit we change ourselves so we can be accepted by the world. I was a strong willed kid, full of personality, but life is such a crazy journey and I’ve been through some wild trails. Of course that every experience gifts us so many learning opportunities and, what I find the most important thing in someone’s character, it teaches empathy. However, in the long run, it also tires you and I got tired and I changed many parts in myself because I didn’t have the strength to do otherwise, I just wanted to be someone that people would love. In changing myself, I lost the chance to grow up discovering different aspects of my soul, my heart, my personality and my sexuality.

When I was 14, I got butterflies in my stomach every time I talked to my science teacher, without having any idea what it meant. When I was 15, the butterflies would fly for my literature teacher. I loved her curly red hair, her voice and her beautiful smile. She was caring, intelligent and passionate for what she did. With her, the butterflies were everywhere and I started to question my sexuality. I was really unaware of this diverse universe, since my family had never openly talked about it and on TV there wasn’t any solid representation that could enlighten me. I was very confused and I decided to talk to my sister. She, being just as unaware as I was, told me it was nothing and I gladly took it. I didn’t want to be more different than I already was. But that didn’t change the way I felt, it only got stronger and more imprisoning with every passing day. When I was 16, I was crushing on my math teacher (I was super into teachers!) and a sweet girl in my school (finally someone my own age!). During all this time, I was crushing on boys as well, kissing and experimenting with them, thinking how weird it felt for not being as good as everyone said it would be.

I spent my whole teenage life and early adulthood, feeling as if I didn’t belong anywhere. When I was 20, I decided to live alone and from that moment on I started on a journey of self discovery. I allowed myself to look deep inside and be free to feel. I started doing research about different types of sexual orientation, reading about other people’s experiences, watching videos on YouTube and searching for shows where I could see something that represented what I felt. At 22, I was sure, at 23, I was brave. The first person that I told to was myself, loud, clear and true. In my family, I first came out to my sister, who is my best friend and my soul, she was just as beautiful as I could have expected her to be. Then I told my mom, who was both okay and very curious about it (she’s done lots of research since then), then my dad, who said he already knew, and my closest friends. After coming out to everyone I considered important, I felt untouchable, whole and as if I was breathing for the first time, it was one of the best moments of my life.

Finding a label to classify myself into was very confusing, I first came out as bisexual, then I was told that I was a lesbian…But I never felt comfortable with the labels, they made me feel suffocated and like I had an obligation to stand by them, instead of standing by me. I’m 30 now, and I’m proud to say that what I am is what I was born to be: free! Free to be all the colors of my beautiful rainbow.

Sam

I knew I was a lesbian in high school but I was too afraid to come out. Growing up, my family never talked about the LGBTQ+ community so I had no idea what I was feeling. Making friends that are apart of this amazing community helped me figure out my story. I came out at 20, no idea how my family would react so I was scared. Luckily, they accepted me and I will always be grateful for that. Now, at 27, I’m still figuring things out as I get older but I’m truly happy and proud to be who I am. I want anyone reading this to know, it gets better. Be who you are and strut your stuff! Sometimes chosen family is the best kind! Thanks for reading!

Yes I am, Undo Me and Ghost

My name is Sheelagh. I was born and raised in the Philippines. I grew up Christian with a mixture of Catholicism. My family is well-known in the Filipino-Chinese community. Both sides of the family are well-to-do. My grandparents built a Evangelical church next door because of his faith. Among my family’s businesses, we distributed Christian music in the Philippines. My Christian upbringing was certainly a very important part of my life.

My story begins in Kindergarten. This was the first time I felt the feeling of “being different.” I had a crush on my teacher. The older I got, I would always notice the girls in my class. However, I did not understand any of this. I didn’t know if there was a word to describe who or what I am.

When I was 5th grade, I remember being in a car with my entire family. My older sister asked my parents the pivotal question that kept me in the closet for the longest time. She asked: “What is something your children would do that you would not be able to forgive us for?” After a long pregnant pause, my mom replied, “If I found out one of my four children is gay/homosexual.” I went to the dictionary and found out what the word homosexual meant. Okay, now I had a word to describe who I and what I am. If I come out, my parents will never forgive me for it. I remember thinking to myself, “that’s great. I will just keep this information to myself.”

In 7th grade, I walked into a music store and asked the salesperson if she had any recommendations for me. I wanted something new, alternative and different. She introduced me to Melissa Etheridge. Something in the lyrics of her songs spoke to my soul. I was able to come out to myself and say “Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yes, this is who I am.” For years, I went to sleep listening to all her albums at night.

When I was a Sophomore in high school, a friend came out to me. I stopped talking to her after that conversation. I stopped hanging out with her. She eventually left school and went to the US to finish high school. I still feel bad about this. I hurt her because I was not ready to face that part of myself.

My parents were very strict. We were not allowed sleep-overs. We were not allowed to go to parties until we were 18.

By college, I became active with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was at church almost every day of the week. I attended a prayer group on Tuesday. I joined a Bible study on Wednesday. I attended youth group on Friday and Saturday. And I was in church on Sunday.

In 2004, I watched the movie, “Saving Face” starring Joan Chen, Lynn Chen and Michelle Krusiec. For the first time, I saw myself on screen. It was my first exposure to positive lesbian representation on film. I wish I had the courage to say the words, “妈妈，我爱你. 我也是gay.” In English, mama, I love you. I am also gay.” But I didn’t. I was too scared to have that conversation with my family or with anybody. I came out by not coming home one night. I totally regret not having
that conversation but I just didn’t know what to say or where to begin.

Things began to not go well for me after what I did.

My family got me connected with an ex-gay ministry affiliated with Exodus International. I was not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I was driven to Bible study with this group every week. My family started a Bible study at my home. When my family realized that Bible study and family discussions were going nowhere, my mom gave me an ultimatum – change now or leave the house. I was also told that if I left, I would be cut off from the family and disowned.

I chose to leave with my girlfriend at the time. My family hired a private detective and tracked me down. My parents said they wanted to talk to me. When I came to see talk to them at a hotel room, I felt trapped. I felt I was being interrogated and coerced to go the US and think about my actions. This went on for hours until I broke down and said yes. Within less than a week, I was on a plane to Florida. My parents made arrangements that I was going to stay with family there.

After 6 months, my relatives realized that after numerous discussions, things were going nowhere. I was given another ultimatum – change now or go back home. In my mind, I pictured my family was either going to lock me up/throw away the key or I was going to be forced to marry a guy.

Neither scenario was acceptable to me. I thought about what I was going to do. I realized that for me to stay in the US, I needed to give my parents an acceptable proposition. I went online and found that Exodus International had a live-in ministry/program in Wichita, KS. I figured since they want me to consider changing who I am, I think they should pay for my expenses.

I found myself in Wichita. I got accepted into the ministry. I regret my participation (about 5 years) with this organization. The people running the ministry may have good intentions. Perhaps they were concerned about the well-being of my soul. However, there was no social worker on staff or anyone with religious training in their background. I was not allowed to interact with anyone outside the ministry and the church. I was not allowed to listen to music that was not pre-approved. I was not allowed to watch any television that was not pre-approved. For about half a decade, I was asked to not question their authority and just receive their message.

It totally went against everything that I believed in. I always questioned things. This really threw me off for a loop. I feel like I am still suffering from the mind games of being in this program. I went from being comfortable in my own skin to having a complex about who I am.

My only saving grace during this time was Jennifer Knapp’s music. I discovered her music while I was in the program. Her lyrics are so honest and moved me to remain open to God. The song “Undo Me” is my favorite from her album.

Undo Me became my prayer for many years. I went from being comfortable in own skin and not having any issues with my sexuality to praying that God take this away from me. I know the only way to please my family is for God to change me. There is no way I can do it on my own.

Luckily, because my family distributed Christian music in the Philippines, I was able to get all her albums sent to me. Her music gave me life while in that program. Without it, I do not know if I would have survived those years.

When I finally left the program, I was angry at God. I became promiscuous. I stopped caring about my faith. I went on downward spiral for a few years. I put myself in situations that were not healthy or positive. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to me.

Two years prior to meeting my wife, I realized this was not the life I wanted for myself. I stopped going to bars. I stopped having casual sex. I made a promise to myself. I will only consider sharing an intimate moment with somebody who I can see myself being in a serious relationship with.
Luckily, a wonderful and beautiful woman came into my life. She is now my wifey. We have two pugs, a son and a great life together. I have never been happier.

When Adaline decided to help others who have suffered religious trauma, I was excited. I am on this very journey. I need help in this area. Who knew that Ghost would mean so much more than the magic of WayHaught/and the stairs?

However, religious trauma is painful. I have not opened the Bible since leaving the ex-gay ministry. However, amazing human beings out there like Adaline and Jennifer Knapp are giving me hope. Who knew that Wynonna Earp and the community of Earpers will grow into something beyond the show and the fandom?

I am completely estranged from my family. They think the only way I can be acceptable and welcomed into the family is if I marry a guy or stay single/embrace celibacy for the rest of my life. It hurts when we talk because they always ask me how I am doing as if I am unmarried. When I share information about my life they act like I didn’t say anything.

Being part of this community has been a great source of hope and healing for me. I feel so blessed and honored to have read all your stories. Thank you for sharing because you make me feel like I am not alone. Thank you, Dominique for starting the wave. I am so grateful.