Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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No Labels, Just Love

As a young child, I was kind fascinated by lesbian relationships on tv; Bad Girls (UK), All Saints (Aus), The L Word (USA) etc. etc., but this was all on the downlow. I’d watch the shows with little to no interest during the day and devour fanfiction stories about them by night. I had some instances of “experimentation” with a friend or two, but that didn’t mean what I thought it meant, did it? I went to secondary school, had no boyfriends, stuck with my fanfiction, and found “hot male celebrities” to “have a crush on” to balance the “girl crushes” I had. In my mind, I was totally chill with this me who ~has crushes on men and women~, but in person? I didn’t talk about it with anyone; I was scared because I didn’t want to hurt people, upset them, lose them.

In year 10 (UK age 14/15), my social circle expanded and grew to include a girl my best friend had met in another class, L. She and I quickly became close friends and it was great, until I heard that L and her childhood best friend had ‘messed around together’. Here my brain was like “wowww, another non-straight girl like me!”. I became slightly obsessed, I’ll admit. L was my best friend but she’d flirt with me; call me sexy specs while having a boyfriend, snuggle up with me then go and see him. I thought I was in love with her. I eventually grew a pair, picked my self respect up off the floor and walked away from that hot mess.
After a while, I met a guy friend at work and we became really close, like brother and sister. One night we were chatting and he came out to me as bi, so I did the same back. It fit at the time, but it was also the easy way out; it was a label and not a label. He helped me to be open about not being straight in a way I’d never been able to before and I’m still so grateful for that. We eventually found Tumblr and it gave us a place to “be honest in a sea of strangers”; it changed my life, quite literally.

On Tumblr, I met a girl. This girl became my friend, then my best friend, then so much more. She was like nothing I’d ever met before, made me feel things in technicolour and UV. She taught me it was okay to be me, to be different, to be honest and feel the things I felt. She was the reason I came out, the reason I wanted to come out. The day we met in London, I left my mum a letter explaining about me, about us, and that I had made arrangements for somewhere else to stay if she wasn’t okay with me any more. Half an hour away from London on the train I received a text from my mum telling me that we were okay, she was okay, and that she loved me. That was now eight years ago, and that girl is currently sitting next to me on our sofa, in our home, the day after our eighth anniversary.

Coming out is something I do every time I meet someone new, but it doesn’t have to be a huge declaration. I used to be petrified about it; my heart rate would spike, I’d get sweaty palms, I’d be all stuttery and lame about it. But now? “Yeah, I live with my girlfriend.” “Me and my girlfriend went there”. “I went to visit my mum with my girlfriend”. The other day, I was asked at work if I was a gay woman (due to my rainbow lanyard, not out of the blue!). Even a year or two ago, that question would have sent me into a panic. But this day, I held my head up, kept eye contact and said “yeah, I am”.

I still don’t really like labels or definitions but: I am a woman in love with another woman and that is okay.

No rainbow without the rain – Queer sunshine

My story isn’t the saddest or the most unique one to tell but it is my story. And in the LGBTQIA+ community it is all about representation, so here I go.

Lucky enough for me, when I first discovered that I liked girls it didn’t scare me or terrify me (at first). It was just the way I felt – I recognised it as a part of me, like an inherent puzzle piece of mine. I didn’t judge it as something that needed to be addressed or spoken about, rather, I didn’t think of it much. Almost like breathing: you breath without thinking – in and out – every day, every minute, everywhere. That’s how I felt about being interested in girls, it’s just a part of my nature.

I was about 13 years old. And part of why it came to me so easily, without struggling about what it may or may not mean, was due to the Russian band t.A.T.u. Okay, now, we all know it was for show, BUT and that is the important part: I felt represented, I felt like I wasn’t the only one, and even though it was a controversial topic back then, most people discussed it in a very open-minded way. The topic was present in the media. With 14 I had my first girlfriend, and my Dad was totally cool about it. We never needed to talk about it or address it any way – just like me, he never needed to wrap his head around it.

My mom, however, was different: She somehow suspected something, so she went snooping through my things and found a letter of my girlfriend at the time. It was after her telling me that she was disappointed in me, that no child of hers would behave in such a way that I realised being gay or being queer, or whatever label describes you best is maybe not just like breathing. It was the first time that I felt ashamed of myself, that I started thinking about what it meant to be different, that I didn’t feel accepted for who I am. It was within these struggles that I broke up with my girlfriend and that I didn’t have any kind of relationship for the longest of time.

After high school, I went abroad to Canada: learning about myself, working for the first time, living in a foreign country, speaking a different language, and just trying my best to find my authentic and true self. And it was the way people openly accepted me and my queer ways, that I understood that whatever I feel, whomever I feel something for is okay, is valid. I’ve never in my life encountered people who were more open-minded than Canadians, like ever! I’m forever grateful for my Canadian (host) family, for making me feel at ease with myself, for accepting me with all my queeriness.

Today I’m married to the most wonderful woman in the world, we are proud of our relationship and of our love. That doesn’t mean that we do not struggle anymore, or that everyone just accepts us. On the contrary, even though my mum was at our wedding, she does not accept us 100%, she still thinks that the way I live my life is wrong. BUT I know that nothing about love is ever wrong. I know that love and human beings can have a million different colors, and another million different shades of these colors – and that is beautiful. Maybe, just maybe, the more we are willing to stand up for ourselves, to be loud and proud, the more people see that, indeed, love is love, that this precious feeling, the truest of them all, is a wonderful thing and that instead of being ashamed of it we should embrace it with both arms as strong as we possibly can. And when there are moments – and we cannot deny that there are – when people do not accept us, say that homosexuality is a sin, call us names, then we must remember that it is exactly this rain that, together with our inner sun rays, becomes the world-encompassing rainbow we all want to see one day.

Always questioning Bisexual

I realized I wasn’t straight in the 8th grade. It was Saturday and I had just woken up. I had seen a dream that I was dating one of my friends who also was a girl. It had been a really nice dream. In it we had done some things like straight couples in my school, e.x kissing in the stairs and walking hand in hand.
Then when I was playing there on my bed it dawned on me, I wasn’t straight. I panicked a little because I didn’t want to be gay or anything else. My parents were(and still are) homophobic, but in few weeks I was completely fine with my sexuality ( even tho I still am questioning if I’m actually just gay and not bisexual).
I “came out” kinda differently then my other friends. When I went to high school I just openly said what I was and stopped hiding it.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.


 

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

Pansexual

I was 17 when I realized that I was into more than just guys I guess it was always in my mind but I never truly accepted it until my junior year of high. It was easy coming out to my friends since they had been suspecting for a while but it was difficult to tell my family my dad accepted me as I was but my mother never acknowledged or spoke to me about but I’ve never been happier since the day I came out

Gayer than a fruit loop, but too young to love.

I first started questioning my sexuality when I was 11. My grandma had just passed and I was severely depressed. I realised that I liked dressing more masculine, and in what I know see was a way too hide that I was gay, I decided that I was probably trans. I started going by the name Sam and started wanting to cut my hair. I even tried to bind my chest (in very unsafe ways) and I thought that I was depressed because I had gender dysphoria. After about a year I realised that I was just really fucking gay. So, I decided to lived my truth in a very homophobic school and it was the best choice I ever made.

I started coming out at twelve by mentioning it slightly in conversations, mostly by denying attraction to boys rather than admitting my love for women.

This year i turned 15 and after two gay relationships and after being out for three years Im still uncomfortable with my sexuality. I hate to say it and I wish it wasn’t like that, but my class mates and and the society we live in has pushed the ‘predatory lesbian’ stereotype on me for so long that it’s hard to forget.

I’ve recently decided that I will try to wear my pride bracelet in a way of showing who I am with out having to say something. And most importantly it serves as a small reminder for me that, no matter what my classmates say, being gay is 100% okay and that I’m so fucking proud of being a part of this community.

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.

Androgynous

First, Excuse my english. It’s not my mother’s tongue.

It was a long time ago (the 80’s).
I realized I was lesbian at 16 (and tried to shut it down right away too because evreybody around me was -in the best scenario- mocking homosexuals).

It took me to go to University for a year (five years later) to understand that the desire for girls was too hard to fight and finally accept it.
I reconnected with the best friend I had between 9 and 11. It turns out she was gay too!
I think the first person I told it – few month after I quit Uni- was one of my cousins. I told her that on Sundays, I was going to this “famous” gay nightclub about 1h of road from our hometown and that the reason was because it felt home to me. Because I prefer girls.. She didn’t care AT ALL. 🙂 Her first words? ” I’m not surprised. Do you have a girlfriend?”…
Then, a short time after, I told it to the highschool friend I’ve been in Uni with and the 2 others girls we befriended there. I said: “Humm.., guys? I have to tell you something… Well, I’ve been in this gay nightclub a lot lately and…I have a flirt…..with a girl… And I’m gay”. No problem with them neither.
Basically, they said: “It’s your life, you do what you want to. It’s not important for us.”

But I stopped coming-out after that because there was only my family left to tell. I remained silent for many many years. (But it doesn’t mean I pretended being straight! It was not even an idea for me. And it would have made coming-out worse).
So, at almost 40, I had a little breakdown and send a email to those I had the address, knowing they would talk about it to their sister/brother I couldn’t reach out. I have been really less diplomat than you but I was really down:

“Ok, here it is, I can’t anymore, it has to get out or I’m gonna blow a casquet…

I don’t care if it doesn’t please someone but I’m not gonna play a role to satisfy anyone.
Let things be clear for everybody: I’m homo.
I haven’t change, I’ve always been.
I’m open to any question/discussion.

Here, it’s done.”

It turns out that, with all those years passed by, my family had evolved on the “homosexuality topic”… and that they love me for who I am.
It was just support and love. I was right to wait…

Embracing my rainbow

My secondary school was single-sex, so I was constantly surrounded by girls. 8am-3pm Monday to Friday, the only people in my life were girls and women. It wasn’t until I was in either year 10 or 11 that I realised I had a crush on a girl in my school. She was so intelligent, beautiful and funny, and she was one of the only people who really saw me and bothered to speak or listen to me. I tried to ignore it for so long, putting the feelings down to wanting to be her friends or he like her. It wasn’t until year 12 when I got my first boyfriend that I realised it was more than that. I loved my boyfriend but I felt more when I looked at or thought about girls. Our relationship went downhill fast and within only a few months I was single again.
Since then I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know myself – who I am, what I want from life/a partner, and it’s been okay. When I first properly realised my attraction to girls I gave myself the label of bisexual and came out to one of my best friends who I’d met through tumblr. She came out to me at the same time and it was the best feeling knowing that I had someone in exactly the same position as me who I could talk to. When I started university we both began questioning our identity again and it was with her support that I was able to start identifying as gay.
There’s alway been that voice in the back of my head saying “you’re not gay. You’re faking. You’re bi. You’re straight. Stop lying to yourself” and everyday I’m learning how to fight it. It’s now been 3 years since I started identifying as gay and I’m out to all of my friends, as well as my parents who I told last weekend (something which I didn’t think would happen and which was completely accidental).
I’m still terrified of fully being myself and embracing my rainbow. Keeping this part of me hidden for so long has felt like I was being suffocated but it feels amazing to finally be free.

I’m me.
I’m free.
I’m gay.
I’m not going to hide it away.

I’m embracing my rainbow and letting my flag fly high.