Community Rainbow Waves

Peacefully free.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Ana and I am 32 years old.
My coming out story started when I was 12, I was a kid. In a world that at that time did not understand and we’re very close minded. I am the oldest of 9 and also a Mexican, my family.. Well they are your topical Mexican family. Strict and very in tuned with their old ways and values. At 12 I figured something was “wrong” with me. “Wrong”.. It’s crazy how much we are made to believe that there is something ” wrong” with us. Anyways, I had a girl best friend in school that I started having weird feelings for. I didn’t understand and didn’t know who to even talk to. I mean, what do I even say?. What if they look at me weird or something? These were scary times. I had an adult figure in my life that I trusted so much. When I couldn’t understand, I went to this person and told them what was going on. What I was feeling. This person convinced me to talk to my parents. So, I did. And man oh man did I regret it. My first thought was to “come out” to my mom. I mean, who actually goes to their dad first, right? Haha. After, I believe 20 minutes of beating around the bush, I told her I thought I was bisexual. That I was having feelings I couldn’t understand. My mom replied with, “it’s a phase, it will pass”. She made feel like, like my feelings weren’t valid. That things I felt weren’t relevant because things were just a phase. I agreed with her and completely hid who I was until I was 14.
At this point, feelings were strong. Things just couldn’t be hid anymore. I had a talk with my, then best friend, and it took me one week to come out. I was so scared to get told it was a phase, to get my feelings shut down. Or to simply be looked like I was weird . But the most amazing, beautiful and incredible thing happened. She hugged me and said, ” no matter who you are, I love you. You are Ana to me. Today, tomorrow, next month. No matter what you will be Ana”. And that my friends, that is when I realized that life was more than what I thought. That all people thought different. And that I, I was going to be okay, no matter what happened. I felt so free, I felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could finally stand tall and breathe. Those simple words that to her might have not meant anything, was the fuel I needed, the strength to be me. I then proceeded to come out to a few other friends and unfortunately, the word spread to my parents. My very old fashion parents. One day I came home and they were on the table sitting down, they wouldn’t look at me, they looked upset. You know, that look you see when your parents are super mad at you and you feel the colour disappear from your face. I knew, I don’t know how but I knew. I sat down. And through a lecture about Adam, Eve, the Bible, and our values. I was forced to come out, again. After that, I went years of ” praying the gay away”. I went to church everyday, I was made to pray everyday. I read the Bible till I knew the pages down to the last wrinkle. I am Catholic, rosaries is what we do. I learned how to pray it in different ways, for different reasons. But through it all, my best friends words replayed over and over in my head. And I when I felt like I didn’t have no more fight in me I would ask myself. “Who is Ana?” . And my answer to myself was always the same “I am Ana, and I am free”. But unfortunately, at 16 I gave in to my deepest darkest demons and tried to commit suicide. I bought some pills from a person in school that sold drugs. I went to the bathroom. And I took, every single one. Next thing I know I was in the hospital, getting my stomach pumped with nurses and doctors yelling but everything was so faint. After it all, my dad said I left him no choice and he locked me up in a mental institution for months. With no visitors but him, no communication with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts. And just when I was losing my mind, a staff member said to me. “You know there is nothing wrong with you right?, I understand you. I have been you and all I can say is, it gets better.” Then the words from my best friend those years ago just slapped me like my mother when I stepped out of line and then I remembered. “I am Ana, and I am free!”. In my time there I found myself. I had time to think, to figure myself out. I then knew I wasn’t bisexual. I was a lesbian. It was so good to say it out loud to myself and anyone who would listen. Many many things happened after that. Many fights, I got kicked out of my parents home but I said, enough. No one will tell me who I can and can’t be. And I fought for myself, even when everyone gave me their backs. I got married with a woman and boy was that a trip. Then I got divorced over domestic violence and luckily my parents allowed me to be back home till I got back on my feet. Anyways I’m getting side tracked here sorry, haha. My point is, I know coming out is not always a pleasant story as some others. It’s full of emotions, confusion, theories of how it will be. So many things happen with different outcomes, some we see coming some we don’t. I don’t hold a grudge against my parents. I don’t hate them, hate is a strong word. I understand that there will always be people like them. People that will ask why? That will say ” you’re confused” or “it’s a phase”. But people like that is why I fight to be me. If someone asks me why I don’t date guys I ask them, well why don’t you date the same gender as you. Their answer is usually the same, silence. I fight To prove to them that this is not a phase. This is me. This is Ana, and I am Free..

The real Juls

I’m currently 28 years old and my journey started in the form of a great internal storm when I was 16 years old, I was studying in a religious school and to be honest Colombia in those years was not a progressive and comfortable environment to talk about issues such as diversity and sexual orientation.
I grew up in a catholic family, my school was catholic, and my training was guided by the principles of a catholic family, so anything that came out of that pattern was labeled taboo or people just made offensive jokes about it. During high school my friends always talked about boys, all my close friends had a boyfriend in the same classroom or in the same school and in the meantime I saw the boys only as friends, the idea of ​​having a boyfriend never crossed my mind, in fact it always seemed irrelevant to me. With the girls it was very different, I felt that “something” that was absent when I saw a boy, but I always kept silent because, due to my ignorance, I thought it was something irrelevant and temporary, perhaps simple admiration.
At university nothing changed, I saw a girl and I still felt the same but this time with a little more freedom to obtain information I was able to find too many articles and LGBT content that helped me to know that something real was happening to me. When I finished university, 6 years had already passed and what started as a storm inside me became an authentic apocalypse, it was many years where the silence had wreaked havoc. What was stopping me? My family. I imagined a situation where I would tell my family and terror would take over because I could hear their voices saying “What have we failed at?”, So to release some of that destructive anxiety I started by telling my closest friends and they gave me that warmth and understanding I needed to keep myself sane at least until I told my family. It took me another year to gather all the strength to tell my family that it only consists of my mother and godmother that I’m a lesbian. The terror I felt when I told them is indescribable, my lips and throat were dry, I could not formulate a coherent phrase and my body was blocked but I could do it and I could feel free, that was…like 4 or 5 years ago I don’t remember well and I still feel that my mother has not assimilated it 100% because she is also the connection with my father’s family and I know that no one in that circle knows it, only my godmother’s family knows it.
I am an only child, perhaps that is why my mother still doesn’t fully assimilate it because she expected from me what almost all parents expect from their children: husband/wife and children but it doesn’t matter because my mother already knows and she will not see me with masks and lying to her, she will understand it 100% someday. Right now I’m calm, there are not storms inside me anymore.

Julie

I’d always been a tomboy. I grew up with 5 brothers and 1 sister (I’m also the youngest), and my dad was all about ‘the sports’ so we’d often be playing football, rugby, and quite a bit of cricket.

When I reached secondary school I really started to notice my feelings towards girls. I’d experienced these feelings before but I hadn’t known what they were, how to identify them.

I grew up in a really dodgy part of Yorkshire in England. It wasn’t a place one would ever identify as a ‘safe space’. It always felt like the whole town was… stuck. There wasn’t any art or culture, no diversity, and there certainly weren’t any (out) gay people. At least none that I can remember.

There wasn’t much to do in my town so as teenagers, me and my friends would end up drinking on the streets. I would only ever talk about my feelings when I was drunk and NEVER with anyone else, only ever to myself. I’d sit there and say “you’re not a lesbian. You’re not a lesbian!”

I did NOT want to stand out, I didn’t want to be different. When I was 14, a girl in the year below me had been outed and her life was made a living hell. No way was I going to do that to myself. So I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gay, that I’d meet the perfect boy and all those feelings would melt away thanks to his chiselled jaw and amazing magical penis.

Anyways, eventually I got out of that town and at 18 went to University. On my very first day, the very first person I spoke to was a super smiley friendly girl named Rachel. We immediately clicked and became instant best friends. But uh-oh, those pesky feelings were bubbling up again!

I ramped up my efforts to find the magical penis that drives off any lesbian tendencies. Personally, I found it pretty gross. And rather boring.

After about 4 months mine and Rachel’s friendship blossomed into something else. And it was MIND BLOWING! The first time we were together it was like my whole body was suddenly awake. Every touch, every sensation was just utterly amazing (I’m being super gushy, sorry). I was DEFINITELY a lesbian.

It wasn’t easy sailing though. Rachel and I had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. I’d finally accepted my feelings to myself and to Rachel, but my fear of people finding out I was gay was still firmly in place. That fear meant that I, at times, ended up hurting Rach. She wasn’t out either but she handled everything with a great deal more grace and elegance than I ever did.

Over time, as our fledgling romance deepened, we found the courage to come out to our friends. They were very loving and supportive which was a huge relief. I was terrified my best friend from home would be horrified and disown me, but her reaction was so far from it! Which is also silly because I’d known her since we were 6 years old, she was never going to push me away! But I suppose that’s why the fear intensifies when having to tell the most important people in your life – the idea of losing someone you love that much is a hard thing to shake off.

Rachel came out to her parents after about 6 months. Again, they were very accepting and welcomed me with open arms. When Rach was back home and I’d go to stay with them, not having to hide our relationship was such a weight off. We were even allowed to sleep in the same bed… Get in!! 😀

My coming out to my mum took just a little bit longer. Rach and I had been together almost a year. It was Christmas in the second year of uni and Rach was going back to her parents and I to mine. My brother came to pick me up and saw me saying a very soppy goodbye to my ‘best friend’. Over the 20 minute car journey he finally asked me “are you two a couple?”. The word “yes” sat in my throat for what felt like a lifetime. I eventually managed to push it out and then waited for the repercussions…

The smile on my brother’s face was the most relieving thing in the whole wide world. We talked, we laughed, I *nearly* cried (I’m not very good with emotions). Problem was, now my brother knew, it meant I had to tell my mum.

My mum is a very intelligent woman with some interesting views, shall we say. She had gay friends when I was in my teens, but she always called them ‘queers’ and not in the positive way. In a nutshell, I was sh*tting it.

I spent the whole of the two week Christmas break hovering, trying to blurt out “I’m a giant lesbian!”. I almost said it after watching ‘Bend Is Like Beckham’ after the whole confusion where Keira Knightley’s mum thinks she’s a lesbian. I took a deep breath, had the words ready, and said “right, I’m off to bed then”. Fail.

The last morning before going home I went and sat on my mum’s bed to talk to her. I still couldn’t do it. My mum threw me a lifeline though – “is there something you want to tell me? I feel like you’ve been hovering”. I got under her duvet, covered my face, heart pounding through my chest, lump in my throat, “me and Rach are an item”. Head between legs, fingers in ears, wait for the eruption…

“I know. I heard you call her ‘sweetheart’ on the phone. I didn’t ask because I wanted you to tell me in your own time”. And just like that, my mum knew I was gay and my world didn’t end. I even got a call from my gran telling me I was still the same person, and “we talk to ’em (gay people) don’t we!” She was trying to be sweet so I let that go.

My mum took it well initially but still had her own struggles with me coming out, mainly because she had plans for me to have a strapping young husband to do her DIY. She got there in the end though.

Rachel and I have now been together for 16 years and our 12th Wedding anniversary is in May. We have a 6 year old son and live a very happy ‘out’ existence. That smiley girl, the very first person a shy me spoke to at Uni, became the love of my life.

Apologies for the huge essay.

Final note though – if I’ve learned anything in my 34 years, it’s love who you love and live your best life for you.

Stay kind beautiful people.

A bisexual woman and proud

My story is a little backwards! I thought I was gay when I was about 13, I had a few crushes at school (I went to an all girls school, so there were many). I didn’t tell anyone until I was in my last year when I started to go out with this girl. She however was uncomfortable dating girls so it was a very secretive relationship.

At a party one night she kissed some guy and I got really upset and ended up kissing one of my friends boyfriend (I know stupid). Anyway that ex-friend then phoned my parents to tell them I was gay and bullied me for saying I was, not fun. Thankfully my parents were supportive, but being a family that don’t talk about relationships I had no idea how they were going to react.

I am so thankful to come from a supportive family, and to have had some supportive friends who helped me through this. It was a traumatic experience for a 17 year old.

Anyway, when I went to uni I feel in love with a guy, which was definitely a shock for someone who thought she was very gay. I had to then come out to all my friends and family again it was pretty funny! I had never really thought of bisexuality as a thing until then!!

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

Lesbian/Gay

I’m older than a lot of you but still thought I’d share. When I was in 3rd grade I had a crush on my best friend a girl and also a boy in my class. Well I soon figured out I just liked him as a friend. Then 4th grade we had this gorgeous student helper. I continued to have these feelings as I grew but I hid them throughout high school. I came from a very religious family and you couldn’t do anything worse than being homosexual. It was right up there with murder….! So I dated boys and even married but it only lasted a year we had plenty of issues. It was only after I was divorced at the age of 21 that I met this incredible woman and she was everything that I’d ever I wanted. I allowed myself to feel the things I had hidden deep down and I was flooded with something I’d never known….happiness! We have been married for 5 years now and I’m so happy I was finally able to be me. So coming out is a process that I still do after all these years. My family found me disgusting for many years. They slowly let me back into their life’s. When I work with someone new the question always comes up, so are you married and do you have kids? I tell them the truth which I feel is coming out again and again. At least it’s easier now and most don’t say anything even if they are against it.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent. I discovered myself as such when I entered my first year of high school. Our sexual orientation, we’ve had it since birth. It’s just that it can take time to discover ourselves and to assume it, and to say it around us when the urge comes to us. Even though I’m almost 17, I haven’t told my family yet because I’m afraid of their reaction (even if I assume it completely). Only my friends know it and for the moment it’s enough for me. I will surely tell them when I turn 18 with the freedom of a young adult. You shouldn’t deny yourself or be afraid of being because of what you are deep down inside. It is preferable to look for yourself to be the most beautiful person possible. What I just wrote may not be understandable with my spelling mistakes and everything else 😅 but for the moment I feel happy. I hope this text will help other people because time is an eternal present.

I identify myself as female

I think around the age of 8 or 9 when the girls of my classroom started liking the boys and talk about them I had the thought that the boys were so childish and stupid and still girls liked them. After that when I knew that existed gay and queer people I already accepted them even though I never had think about it. Some years later I was talking to my best friend and I said that I really liked girls and apparently some guys but I didn’t know exactly what I was and she accepted me and open up about herself too. I still don’t have a defined sexuality and that’s ok since I know what I like.

Not coming out on my own terms

I knew that I was different from the age of six. I grew up in a neighborhood that primarily had boys my age and I got to grow up with them and plays sports, get dirty and pretend to be Power Rangers (my best friend and I always fought over being the red ranger) and I absolutely loved playing with these guys. I never had a silly childhood crush. That is until a girl our age moved in across the street. I didn’t really have any female friends when I was younger but the ones I had were nice. There was something different about this girl though and I didn’t process what it was until I got older. But at the time my best friend had a huge crush on her and it made me really mad. To the point where I would start dressing like him and doing things the other boys did to flirt with a girl. Until my best friend called me out on it and said it wouldn’t work because I’m a girl and girls can’t like other girls. In my mind at the time, he was right.

I never had crushes in elementary school. I was never interested. By middle school, everybody I hung out with had a boyfriend or was into a boy. There wasn’t a single boy that I had a crush on then. It led me to making up a fake boyfriend who goes to a different school with photos of some kid I found on myspace (not my finest moment lol) It worked for a while and afterwards my friends kept telling me that there were some boys who had crushes on me so I decided to give it a shot and “date them.” It wouldn’t last longer than a week with any of them. They would try to hold my hand and kiss me and I was so not into it. I was extremely uncomfortable and would just end it.

Ahh, high school. I went to a school where I didn’t know anybody. It was a fresh start. I made brand new friends, most of which were female, and was lucky enough to find two girls that would become my best friends. One of the friends I made however was a guy and because I was in high school now and hadn’t really had a boyfriend and him being attractive, I went for it. I really liked talking to him and hanging out with him, but any physical interaction was so off-putting to me. And during this relationship I had brought to the forefront the thing that I had been suppressing the most. I didn’t like boys in that way. I liked girls. It was extremely confusing and I slipped into a really dark place that led me into doing some things that I am not proud of. But my friends being as supportive as they are actually helped me figure things out in my head which made me finally comfortable enough to try things out with girls and see how it went. I remember kissing a girl first the first time and it felt like somebody smacked me hard enough to have whiplash. I knew for certain that I was gay. Out of this came many flings and eventually a girlfriend. Only my closest friends knew and I eventually told my younger brother since he would be at my school as a freshman my senior year.

I was making plans on coming out to my parents. I really terrified, mostly to come out to my dad and stepmom because of their upbringing and religious views. I decided I was going to tell my mom first. That is until my dad read my personal notes between my gf and I. He told me I was no longer to have her over and that I couldn’t see her unless it was for something school related. He practically grounded me to the house for a while. I would sneak over to her house to hang out but my dad tracked my phone every time I went out and he called me screaming at me. I got so sick of it and drive to my moms house only to find him there already to talk about it. My mom had my back and my dad was pissed especially since she still let my gf come over to her house. I was so devastated, but mostly because I couldn’t come out when and the way I wanted to. Everything felt like a mess. As soon as I turned 18 that year I moved into my mom’s house permanently because I had to get away from my dad. I didn’t talk to him much for a while. I’m not sure what happened during that time away but he had a complete change of heart and is now totally accepting of it. I got very lucky in that regard.

Ever since my experience, I work very hard with other people who are faced with the challenges of coming out and reach out to be a supportive helping hand. It also amazes me at how much more positive representation we are getting from LGBTQIA+ media and art. I wish I could have had this kind of representation when I was growing up. The incredible work that people put into the LGBTQIA+ community, such as Dominique’s Start the Wave project, are paving the way to a more positive perspective both outside and inside the community itself. My parents, especially my mom, are now huge advocates and take the time to watch and read and research what the community and the representation is all about. I hope that one day everybody can come to this type of understanding, whether it is something they accept or not. Just the understanding itself can be the spark to getting another step closer to love and acceptance.

The Invisible Girl

I think I am actually invisible sometimes.
I think most people think that every now and then.
I was little the first time I felt invisible sitting on a brick wall outside of my church, all the other kids had run to play but I was too tired to play. The adults didn’t even seem to notice I hadn’t made it to the playground.
The thing is I knew then I wasn’t invisible but I still thought it, I still think it.
I do not like putting myself out there.
I slouch when the teacher asks the class a question.
I panic when I don’t understand things.
I panicked when I finally came out to my best friend. I actually don’t even remember what I said to her and I am quite certain that she responded within a minute but that minute felt like forever. In that minute I thought of all the ways my best friend could say she didn’t support me and all the painful ways I would slowly disappear to the person that had stuck by my side since birth.
The truth is even if my friend had said she didn’t support me I would still be me, I would still be gay and I definitely would still be visible.
So here I am.
I haven’t disappeared
And no matter what people say I will never disappear because I have every right to be happy, to find love, to be me.