Community Rainbow Waves

Sweet Queer Missy

I knew I was a bit different in high school when my friend had her first boyfriend. I realized I was jealous he got to be her the way I wanted to be with her. This really scared me, and I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I tried dating as many boys as possible to prove nothing was wrong with me. When I went away to college I was blessed to discover an LGBT group on campus. I started going to meetings and became friends with other people like me. I met my first girlfriend shortly after, and experienced my first heartbreak when she broke up with me for a guy. After college I had another stage where I became scared and confused because I found myself attracted to a guy, to a trans woman, feminine women, and tomboys. After seeing sooooo many people now not afraid to live their truth, I am finally comfortable in my own skin and being my true self. I like the term queer because it says I am open to love. I don’t know who that may be with……man, woman, gender fluid…..but I am open to it. Love is love. Thank you to everyone out there shining a beacon of hope for others.

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

FtM Trans Guy

When I was 5 I started realising I didn’t really fit in with the girls who I was forced into groups with. I was more interested in playing football than dancing and I had a significant amount more friends who were boys than friends who were girls. The boys saw me as one of them and if someone said that I couldn’t do anything because I’m “a girl” they would defend me and say that I’m different. They were right, I am different.

I’m different but my differences make me unique. My gender dysphoria went unnoticed to me until I was 10, around the same time I started puberty. I started hating the body I was in and wished I could be more like the boys who I played football with. My gender dysphoria was manageable until I was 15.

As soon as I turned 15 I had reached my breaking point. I began researching what this awful feeling of hatred I had towards my body was and almost every article I read and every video I watched told me it was the same thing: gender dysphoria. After that I did more research and discovered what it means to be transgender. I came to the conclusion that I’m trans and that I should probably create a list of names for myself to try out.

By January 2017 I decided to tell my friends about my identity and my new name. At that point, I was identifying as non-binary. One friend knew about what it means to be non-binary so was incredibly supportive and the rest of my friends just wanted what was best for me. They used my new name and my preferred pronouns and it was going really well until a few months later when I realised that I’m actually FtM (female to male) transgender.

After I told people I was changing my preferred name again and was using new pronouns some people stopped talking to me which made me feel even more hatred towards myself. I soon discovered that coming out as trans in a Catholic school was a terrible idea (well for me at least). Someone who had stopped talking to me because of my new identity told one of my bullies about my identity and it caused his bullying to escalate. I soon began regretting coming out.

One day during our biology lesson we were talking about reproduction and my bully asked how same sex couples reproduce. I answered him in a clear and concise way that same sex couples can use IVF or surrogacy in order to reproduce. At this point he turned around and said “oh, is that how you trans freaks do it to?” before pushing a desk towards me causing me to be trapped between two desks. My teacher ran over to help and asked him to leave the classroom immediately. I was ushered off with some of my friends to go sit in an empty art classroom whilst we were waiting for the school nurse to come and check me over. Luckily I was only bruised and nothing worse had happened. He was suspended for two weeks for bullying and inappropriate conduct (apparently it would have been much longer if I’d have actually admitted to being trans but at that point I was too scared to come out to teachers).

Flash forward to now (September 2020) and I’m about to start my second year of university. I still haven’t come out to my parents but I’m getting there. My online friends help a lot with reassuring me that I’ve always got a chosen family and that I look masculine enough. I’m now at ease with my labels of transgender and pansexual (an identity discovery I made only a few months ago).

Skylar Counts

I think that an internal battle with yourself is one of the hardest things.

I’m sure we’ve all been there. What do you do when your heart is telling you one thing, but your mind is telling you another?

In my case, my internal battle with myself was my sexuality.

When I was in middle school, I had my first girl crush. I didn’t really think anything of it. I was just like, “Oh, whatever, this will go away.” But it didn’t. The feelings persisted and I found myself in a situation I had never been in before — I had feelings for a girl. I remember being so confused and so scared to be myself. Those feelings resulted in me pushing the girl away and ultimately ending our friendship.

After that, I tried to focus on liking boys. And I did like them, even dated a few. I suppressed the part of myself that liked girls and did what my family, friends, and society told me to do — I liked boys.

When I would get a crush on a girl, I would ignore the feelings and focus on a guy that I thought was cute. That continued in high school. I hid a part of myself from everyone I knew and even from those I didn’t know. I was scared, alone, and struggling. Coming from a family who doesn’t talk about feelings, I suppressed what I was feeling even more. As long as they were happy, I didn’t have to be, right?

Wrong.

My suppressed feelings turned into anger. I was angry that I couldn’t be myself, angry that I couldn’t love a girl because of what others would think of it. How could I be living my truth when I was lying to myself? I was in a constant battle with myself; in a constant battle with what my heart was telling me and what my mind was telling me. My heart told me to take that leap and be unapologetically me, but my mind told me to push those feelings so far down to the point where they would become nonexistent. I had to decide if I was going to let society win or if I was going to let my truth win.

And then, when I was a Sophomore in high school, I stumbled upon a show that changed my life — Wynonna Earp. You’ve heard of it, eh?

I fell in love with the show at first glance. The writing, the cinematography, the acting, but, ultimately, Miss Waverly Earp and her being bisexual. I related to her right away and instead of fear, it brought me comfort. For the first time in my life, I was comfortable in my own skin. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was, dare I say, proud.

From that point on, I looked forward to Friday night’s. I could watch Wynonna Earp on the TV in my room and be myself. When I was watching the show, I didn’t have to be the Skylar who only liked boys; I didn’t have to be the Skylar who did what everyone else wanted; I didn’t have to be the Skylar who was scared to be herself. Wynonna Earp gave and still gives me the courage to be myself.

Shortly after I started watching Wynonna Earp, one of my best friends texted me one night and said that he had something he needed to tell me. A few texts later, he came out to me.It was late at night, maybe midnight or one o’clock in the morning, and he asked if he could come pick me up so that we could drive around and talk. So I sneaked out of the house and got in his car.

I remember feeling so free when driving around with him. We were both in a safe space and we had a new sense of comfort with each other. Before we ended our night, we went to Walmart and bought Fruity Pebbles. We ate them in his car and talked, laughed, and made a memory that both of us will remember forever. I almost came out to him that night.

But fear took over again and I pushed those feelings away yet again. It felt like all of my progress flew out out of the window. I was at a loss. I was 17 and, once again, scared, alone, and struggling.

What to do, what to do, what to do…

I lived in that fear for the rest of my high school career. When someone speculated that I was queer, I just shrugged and shook my head. When my mom looked at me weirdly for wearing skinny jeans and a baggy t-shirt instead of more “girly” clothes, I turned away and hung my head. When my family made jokes of me potentially being queer, I laughed along and cried when no one was watching.

I felt defeated, like I was never going to find the courage to be out.

But then I started making friends who were out and proud and that made me feel peaceful. I started being more myself, more my beautifully queer self. And, boy, did it feel good.

I’m 19 now. I’m no longer scared. I no longer have an internal battle with myself. Through my journey so far, I have realized that love comes in many different shapes, sizes, and genders. And with that realization comes the beautiful fact that I can now live my truth. I love humans. I love love. Ultimately, though, I love being queer.

It’s been a long time coming, but all those moments with my friends, family, and society full of fear, uncertainty, and struggle helped shape me into the person I am today. And that is a queer woman, out and proud.

With all of this being said, I want those reading this to know that it’s okay to be scared and confused. Your feelings are valid and you are not disposable. You’re not alone. If you ever need anyone to talk to, you can reach me on Instagram and Twitter @sky_counts.

Here’s to being here,

To being queer,

To being unapologetically you.

Spread your beautiful, colorful waves and remember that in light there is love and in love there is happiness.

#OutIsTheNewIn

Just a human who loves humans, but tends to focus more on women

I am 16. I’ve “known” about this part of myself that finds other girls attractive as well as some boys for almost 4 years now. That’s almost 4 years that I have spent trying to suppress that part of myself and keep it a secret. That’s almost 4 years of burying, shaming and building mass anxiety inside me.

An issue I have discovered about myself is my tendency to want to “fit in”. The last thing I would want is for others to think of me as different. My biggest fear about sharing this part of me with someone is that it might change their perspective of me or, even worse, they might tie me in with their preconceived thoughts/views. Whether they be good or bad views, I just want them to think of me as that same girl before the big ole conversation. Because that’s the truth. I am still the same me.
The one thing that has made me feel sane over the years in this fine, industrious closet is the representation I see on screen. I’m lucky enough to be growing up in this time of change, where more and more queer characters are being portrayed in film and television. All I can say is that it warms my heart to see this growing community of queer characters and representation in the things I watch, and it never fails to make me feel seen and normal.
And in part, I can thank you, Dom, for being one of those people who made and continue to make me understand that being a part of this wonderful rainbow we all ride on, is okay.

Gay

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQIA+ when I was young, like- as young as 8. I just never knew what it all meant. My father being homophobic and being taught by him that it was wrong for like the same gender. I was confused. I first kissed a girl when I was around that age that led onto a lot more confusing thoughts and depression. I got diagnosed when I was 11. I moved far away from where my Dad lives and I started year 6. In year 7 I lost my virginity to a girl I don’t know the name of. I started smoking (cigarettes & weed) a lot. I came out to my Mum in Year 8 (last year) She just said okay. I was crying and she asked why I was crying. I couldn’t answer. My sister already knew and my brother wasn’t surprised. I cut my hair short earlier this year and when I told my Dads side of the family about they said ‘why?! You’ll look like a dyke!’ Which I just ignored. I am now in a relationship that I really care about and I’m not scared about being with her. Yeah, I still get bullied at School for being and openly gay 14 year old. But, at least I’m happy. Until the inevitable. She leaves. Which is what I’m most scared about right now. Everyone always leaves.

Trans masculine

I first questioned things when I was 5, but a negative reaction from my mother led me to suppress my queerness until I was 17. That was when I tried binding my chest for the first time. It was a life changing experience, and over the past 5 years I’ve continued to explore my gender. Now I can confidently say I am a non-binary man, and I am no longer ashamed of it.

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.

Bisexual

I felt (and still kind of do feel) a bit confused about who I like. But I knew I was 100% in to girls as well in 2016. I came out to my friends in 2017 and I promised my self I would come out to my family soon after. It’s now 2020 and I am still in the closet with my family. I know they know I am not straight but I am just too scared to have the conversation with them. I know they will accept me and nothing ‘bad’ is likely to happen but I just can’t say it to them and I am worried that they dynamics may change, especially with my dad.

Lesbian (experimenting with the idea of the term queer)

I realised I was a lesbian right after ending my first ever “relationship” (with a boy). Because of the lack of lesbian representation on the media, SPECIALLY in Spain (where I’m from and live), I never really knew that that was and option. It wasn’t until I was 14 or 15 that first week after the breakup that I started watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix. I instantly knew that was me I was watching on the screen. For the first time I didn’t feel like I was broken and unable to love or be loved.

I came out to my cousin via a song I found on YouTube months after (cringy… I am fully aware) A year later I came out to my grandma, which was my everything at the time, and the response couldn’t have been worse. It pushed me back into the closet for another 6 months. After I gathered the courage I came out through text to my mom, dad and two older brothers. They were all amazing at the time but apparently either my cousin or my grandma had told the entire family months before.

They were extremely disappointed in me and honestly it hasn’t been easy at all. My family has one of the most toxic dynamics I’ve ever seen.

I’m just happy I have found peace and comfort knowing exactly who I am and what I stand for.

Hoping to move out in a couple of years to NY and pursue my filmmaking career.

Can’t wait to see what the world has planned for this ragging homosexual to be honest.

Sending my love to anyone that needs it, you are not alone.