Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Don’t dream your life, live your dream!

I would never have believed that my childhood dream of becoming an actress, would lead me to reconsider my sexual orientation …

While I was looking for inspiration to play a crazy girl with a gun and a lesbian for audition scenes to try to get into a drama program, here Google offered me “Wynonna Earp”. After listening to a few excerpts, I was too intrigued to stop there … Something strange happened in me when I saw Wayhaught for the first time … My heart was racing and i wanted more. This new feeling had something euphoric and strange at the same time …

At the beginning, I rented the season one only for my auditions, always looking for inspiration to embody a romantic feeling that I have never felt. Then, from episode 2 to episode 9, while I realized more and more that I was not indifferent to Wayhaught, the famous scene of the first kiss made me realize that what was possible for Waverly was possible for me too … no matter what my family thought I was by the way I be or act …

It happened in January this year and I didn’t always go out, because I don’t think I should since we don’t have to define ourselves publicly by our sexual orientation … Maybe it is motivated by the fear of revealing myself … I am already disabled so what kind of strange person and actress I would be in the eyes of people if in addition to being a “Tomboy” physically disabled, I was queer …

If the path to full acceptance of myself is still under construction, I tell myself that publishing this rainbow wave is a good start!

Now that I have said everything to you, I return to look at Wynonna and Wayhaught … only as inspiration for my auditions.

Looking forward to being on your screen as a proud disabled actress and queer.

I am QUEER

I was always attracted to both men and women and deep down I knew that I like both men and women as I don’t look them as genders I look them as beautiful heart. I am from India and I never got the courage to share this with my family that for me love is love but hopefully soon I will let them know that I am QUEER !!

Lesbian

I have two different coming out stories. My public coming out was a lot sooner than coming out to family. My public coming out happened in college. At the time I wanted to identify as bisexual. I didn’t want to classify myself fully a lesbian and stuck to the safe choice (in my mind) of labeling myself as bisexual. My thought process was that as long as I also like men then I can find some way to relate to my peers.

That all changed Fall semester 2006 of my freshmen year in college. See the thing about me is that I’m afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I don’t like to put myself out there for fear of being awkward or saying something wrong. So with that in mind. My normal M.O. being to hide, I signed up for a religious retreat. Oh, I forgot to mention I was going to a Catholic university in good ole New Orleans, La.

Anyhoo, I signed up for the retreat and ended up going for a full weekend in October. I didn’t know what to expect. Well, I had my assumptions of being told that my feelings are wrong and that I couldn’t be who I was and that God thinks I’m a sinner. All these negative things.

I’m so glad I was way off. That weekend I went on a journey of love and acceptance of myself. It was so profound to meet strangers and see their love and acceptance of me shining in their eyes.

I remember there was a moment in the retreat where the newbies like myself had to close our eyes and trust fellow peers to guide us and shower us with hugs and dancing. It sounds so wacky but it’s probably the most profound feeling of love from complete strangers. The fact that we had to put trust in strangers and in return got shown unconditional love? That to me was unheard of. But the message was received. I may not be able to see my creator, but know that the person you are and the person that is seen is soooooo loved. It blew me away a but it was in that moment I could let go of my past labels and truly embrace me as who I am.

There were so many other parts in that weekend that solidified how loved I am for just being me. After that weekend I came out. To all my friends. People knew I was a lesbian and they accepted me. Ironically, I became heavily involved in the ministry at my university because I wanted others to feel that love I felt and that they could find someone they could relate to. I met my best friends there and I wouldn’t trade it. It helped me live my truth at least outside my home life.

My coming out to my family was rough. I’m Hispanic and my mom is a single mother that raised three awesome kids. She’s an immigrant and was raised with very strict ideals of marriage and life. Since I was the baby I could do no wrong.

That changed when I came out at 22. I was in graduate school in another state. I had just had my first real heart break and called my mom crying. She thought I was pregnant. Nope. Mama, I’m a lesbian. She was hurt. Hurt because she couldn’t understand why I turned out the way I did. Hurt because that’s not the life she wanted for me. She didn’t talk to me for a week.

But after that she slowly started talking to me. She wouldn’t bring it up and for a long time she couldn’t deal. But I got help from someone. My sister helped her see so many things I couldn’t express.

See my mom is a stubborn woman and set in her ways. But she actually opened her mind for me. She had a very strict mindset and no one could really change her mind about things. But she did for me. She opened her mind. She accepted me. My siblings didn’t care.

But my extended family is a different story. I have aunts that know and aunts and uncles that don’t know that would probably not approve. Most of my cousins know. I’m still navigating coming out to my extended family. I’m not out to everyone and I’m 31.

It’s not easy. It’s not easy to see how people’s faces change when you’re out.

But I won’t hide who I am. In public it’s a bit easier because the people that matter most have my back. I know family will come around if they don’t agree. I’m blessed. I got lucky. It could have been worse.

My faith didn’t suffer because of my sexual orientation. My family loves me (the ones that know). And my friendships and professional relationships are great. My truth is not a weakness. It’s my strength that I’ve learned not to apologize for.

Life’s a lot of fun if you look on the bright side.

Hi, my name is Amélie but my friends call me Waméliz (don’t try to understand).
I’m 18 years old.
And sorry if my English is disastrous because I’m French.
Anyway, since primary school my thing has always been to hang out with boys, to play at fights, to dress up as a pirate for fancy dress birthday parties, to hate dresses, tights, ballerinas etc…
For a long time I was regularly at my grandparents’ house.
And like all self-respecting old people, I had the right to a classical education: a girl doesn’t dress like a boy, two girls kissing “my gods what a horror” and the racist thought…
As a child I didn’t understand all that.
I just wanted to put on jeans and a T-shirt and go have fun with my friends.

As time went by, I started to feminize myself more and more, imitating other girls my age, having boyfriends and hanging out with girls only.

It wasn’t until I was in 9th grade that I realized that I liked girls.
There was a new girl in our class, at the time I didn’t pay too much attention to her.
But one day she had a lot of trouble carrying her bag because as she was handicapped sometimes her knee joints got blocked.

So I helped her carry her bag home, and I continued to help her like this every night after school.
She was very much on my mind and I loved spending time with her.
In college, being gay wasn’t very well accepted, even though harassment had gotten under my skin, so when I imagined coming out, I didn’t want to take any chances.
So I decided to keep my thoughts to myself (something that should never be done, it seems).
But I did tell my loved ones about it.
Starting with my mother, I told her about this girl with whom I shared the road every night.
To tell her in the final sentence “I think I am in love with her”.
And my mother replied, “I thought so, my daughter”.
Yes, well, there are better things, but at least it went well.
Then it was my father’s turn, as there is not much communication with him, I wanted to tell him quickly.
That is to say, just before he went to sleep, “Good night daddy, and I also wanted to tell you that I am in love with a girl”.

Might as well tell you that he didn’t have a very good night, the next day he told me that I didn’t have sex with a boy I couldn’t know who I really loved, I asked him if he had slept with boys to find out if he really loved my mother but he took it the wrong way and ended the conversation.

Months went by and I decided to tell the girl how I felt.
To make a long story short, she told me she didn’t feel the same way and stopped seeing each other (no my life is not a TV show), so what can I say except unicorn poop?
When I arrived in high school, that’s when I could fully assume who I am, a PANSEXUAL girl who wants to be friends with everyone and who loves people big, small, white, black, yellow, green, multicolored etc…
My last two coming-out dates were this year.
One to my friends who took it very well except for one who asked me if I ever fell in love with an animal and I said “yes of course be careful with your dog the next time I come to your place”.

And the last one to my grandmother, she must have had at least three heart attacks but she finally accepted it.

I’m proud to be part of the LGBTQ2SZETRWU community… there you go.

I am bisexual

During high school. When I got my current girl friend, I came out to my best buddy and one of my close aunt. Only 2 of them that I told them personally. One day, 1 of my BFF noticed my interactions with my girl friend and confronted me. That’s where I’m forced to come out to another few of my BFF.

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

Here and queer 😉

At twelve I moved from primary to secondary school…to an all girls school the first few years were great, we were all pretty immature still, still played ‘tag’/’it’ in the playground. But then we started maturing and I found myself falling into the shadows. We’d all read the same books, watch the same films and tv shows then discuss like any normal teenage friendship group but while they’d gossip about how hot the main character was- Damon from ‘the vampire diaries’ for example or Theo James as Four in ‘divergent’, I couldn’t deny that these guys were attractive but I couldn’t understand why my friends were SO obsessed with them to the point where I thought they’d see me as different if I didn’t reciprocate the same thoughts. So I pretended. When in reality I had a huge crush on Tris (divergent) or Bonnie (tbf), or Lena (beautiful creatures) but that’s only in hindsight. Of course I wouldn’t admit to myself these feelings because surely they were wrong. There were ‘out’ people in my school but I saw the way they got treated how the ‘f’ slur got thrown at them like they were nothing. And I wasn’t prepared for that. A few years later…at 16, I moved to a different school for sixth form whose community was so accepting. In fact the head teacher was a lesbian and had kids and a family of her own…the first ‘real’ queer representation I’d seen. Slowly I started to come out to people, first to my closest friend who is gay, we’ve belonged to the same theatre group for years- I’d listen to him week after week telling me about the bullies at his school who’d bully him for the fact that he is gay. Through theatre we found acceptance… anyway, back to coming out..:so I slowly started to come out to people at school and no one had a bad reaction….I said I liked girls, I didn’t want a label but I knew that to come out to my parents they’d want one, so I wrote them a note in rainbow colours saying I had a date with a girl and I was indeed a ‘homosexual’ (I was 17 at this point), I handed them the note and ran upstairs into the shower so I didn’t have to face them…they took it very well and said they loved me no matter what..:the term ‘queer’ didn’t make an appearance into my dictionary until a few months later and I wish I’d used that…but with time I hope that coming out won’t have to be a thing, that people can just be who they want to be and love who they want without it being a huge question or debate!
So yes, that’s my story…nearly a year on from coming out and people have been accepting on the whole 🙂

Jenna

I have never posted anything serious on social media and I do not like to post for all to see, but I wanted to get my story out there somehow. When I saw the video that @dominauep_c uploaded I thought I might be able to help others with my story. I understand there is a certain limit on characters with these social media outlets, but I think my story is pretty crazy and actually inspiring for anyone willing to listen. Some days I don’t even know how I am still here and still sane. The story I am about to tell isn’t for sympathy or pity but it is for hope. It’s for others to realize that things can get dark but there is always that glimmer of hope at the end.

I was born in an upper middle class family. I was the middle child and probably the cutest out of my siblings. From what I can recall I had a great childhood and a loving family. When I was 13 my family decided to take one more camping trip before the school year started. Little did I know then, but that day my whole life would change.
My mother ended up having a heart attack on the vacation and would never come back home. My father being the man that he was ended up remarrying 3 months after my mother’s passing to a abusive drug addict with 6 kids. With my fathers decision to remarry our extended family fell away. My life went from a loving family of 5 to a family of 11. Life was terrible for me and my siblings. I was constantly physical and verbally abused for years by my step mother with my fathers knowledge. At the end of my ropes, I finally fought back. My father choosing his new family kicked me and my siblings out. My grandparents took us in but only to a certain extent. We lived in their garage and could only bathe in their pool. My sister during this time was to young and had to move back in with my father and my brother ended up moving away to college, leaving me at the hands of my grandparents. Once again physically and verbally abused, my only escape was to go to college.
Going into my freshmen year of college my father decided he wanted me back in his life. He divorced his wife and got a small apartment for us to live. On my first semester break from college, I went home to his apartment to find it abandoned, no note nothing, my dad once again left me and moved in with his new girlfriend. With no where to go, I moved into my car.
When the semester break was over I returned to college and actually became good friends with a girl from my hometown. Telling her my story, her family took me in. I had a loving family again. It was great and awesome until one day I fell in love with that girl. We hid this relationship from her family, and our closest friends for 11 years. We played the straight life in public, but behind closed doors we were in love. Through those closeted 11 years together we went on dates with men to keep rumors of us together at bay.
At the age of 25 I finally saved enough money to buy my first house. My hopes were to have my girlfriend move in with me and actually come out to our friends and family. Like everything else in my life things did not go as planned. We immediately became estranged from my girlfriends family and also mine. It was hell for 2 years for us. I was getting death threats on the regular from her family that I ruined their life and I turned their daughter gay. I was an abomination to society and shouldn’t be loved for what I am. Despite what we were going through we got married in those two years. My wife’s father did not show and her mother the day before decided she would come. My family ended up coming but only a handful and our wedding was mostly celebrated by our friends who supported us.
We bought a house shortly after our wedding and in hopes of starting a family. I am going to fast forward three years and cut out more heartache of miscarriages to current day.
I am 33 now, I have my own family. I am married to the woman I fell in love with 14 years ago. We have a beautiful 16 month old spitfire and one on the way. We have a beautiful home and finally some hope of happiness and peace.I no longer talk to my family for they believe being gay and brining children into this world is cruel. My wife’s family accepts/tolerates us/ me.
I am telling my story to bring hope to those going through dark times and for those who feel alone. We are not alone and we can bring change and we need to bring change. It is important to fight and keep fighting for what we believe in no matter how dark times may get. Fight for yourself and fight for love.
I will end on words that have kept me going “happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn the light on” – Dumbledore

Jessi, the gay woman

I was about 17 when I realised. I developed a crush on not 1 but on a group of 3 girls on the bus. 2 of them were sisters. I didn’t have a big coming out, not even with my parents, but I grew up in a place and around people that I knew wouldn’t have a problem with it. The first time I did actually tell my mom was right before I was going live on a radio show. My mom NEVER listened to the radio but that night of all nights she was. So I figured I would give her a little heads up I was going to be on the radio. So I ran into her bedroom and yelled “I’m going to be on the radio!” and then ran back out just to run back in and yell “to talk about my bisexuality!” I didn’t give her time to respond and she never actually did but I knew she was gonna be okay with it otherwise I wouldn’t have done that. Now we’re so many years later, changed a bit (or a lot) and I’ve come to the realisation I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a man and can only see myself in a serious relationship with a woman. The older I got, the less I was interested in men to not at all anymore. Which is also why I identify as gay, because I don’t want to give myself a specific label like lesbian or bisexual. I’m happy with being gay.

A proud lesbian

i knew i was a member of the lgbtqia + community when i was around 12. i had no idea what it meant to be gay or to like women. but i knew i was different. I knew that when i looked at girls i would get flutters in my stomach. and i knew that i would see myself with them. a few years later i found a webseries called carmilla. and all my sexual and emotional connections to woman came flooding out. after i finished the show i came out to the first person. it was rushed and i was scared and i had no idea if the way i felt was even real. but i told my friend ‘ i’m gay’ after months of fighting with myself i finally told someone. and it wasn’t the great relief you think of. it was horrible; i felt anxious and scared and i wanted to take it back. but i couldn’t. and after hearing that my friend supported me; it gave me hope. so the next few months i came out to more of my friends. but not yet my closest. as i knew it would be scary. but when i came out to my best friend at the time, she told me it was all ok and nothing i could say would change our friendship. so then i thought it would be ok to come out to my parents. i first came out to my dad on new years eve. i didn’t say the word gay because at the time labels scared me. but i told him i like girls. and he said he knew already and it wasn’t a big deal. and i was so happy. but i knew my mum was next, and i knew she was religious. and coming out to her would be a whole different experience. so when i saw her next i sat her down and told her i likes girls. she told me she already knew because my dad had told her. i was so heartbroken and hurt that my dad could out me when i wasn’t ready to be outed. i felt this hurt running through my body. and 3 years later i’m still not quite over him doing that. and my mum hasn’t been the best. she doesn’t like labelling me as as a lesbian. even though i told her i am comfortable with the label. it’s still a battle everyday to fully expect who i am but day by day it’s getting better and i am proud to call myself a lesbian after years of suppressing it. i am a lesbian.