Community Rainbow Waves

Happily working on it…

My best friend at primary school was my first love. I remember a lot from that time although frustratingly not first meeting her. But I remember her vividly. Tall (obviously relatively) with long dark hair and a lick right in the centre of her forehead. Her name was Cassie and when one day she wasn’t well enough for us to hang out, it was the first time I recall my heart hurt. I sat on my swing and I cried.

But even at primary school at the same time I was clearly in love with Cassie I had a boyfriend with whom I shared my first kiss, and more boys and more kisses followed. I liked boys a lot – I still do, they are often the people with whom I feel most comfortable and share the most in common. But it’s easy to confuse these two feelings when you are 5! And once they are set you barely question them; society gives you no call or space to.

I didn’t know there was any other option to the fairytale ending of when boy meets girl, that was and mostly remains, ever present in our society. Until I watched Ellen coming out when I was 15. Channel 4 made it a big Friday night special – they celebrated. In 1997. At peak Friday night TV mania! I’ve never had an opportunity to say thank you to whoever made that happen (btw a generation of queers salute you) – but thanks to them I started to think about myself and who I was. And although I knew in my little world it would be hard – I had this possibility that in the big world I would join there were ways I could be me and maybe even celebrated.

I came out at university. I was 20 years old. I was practically the only gay in the village. It was 2003…

I have continued and evolved to at least try to be authentically me. What that means changes. The recent explosion (or at least it seems to me) of gender fluidity is another expansion of who you can be. And another moment for me to reflect. Who knows what that means for me yet because now I’m older there are more layers to peel back.

But the culmination of it all is where I am now. And I have a job I love, amazing supportive friends, a wonderful family – one I was born into, and one I made. The later of which includes my two beautiful little boys, who warm my world.

I’m an unconventional traditionalist. Or at least I am for now.

Label-less she/her, living down under

Hello !!!!! I’m not one for labels , but what is fitting is transgender bisexual. I had my bisexual realization early on, I was in kindergarden and kissed a girl on the I think looking back at it now at age, you somewhat know that you might have an inkling that something was different, for me I grew up in a family being one of 5 kids and the youngest all i knew was same sex relationships.

The first person I kissed was a guy I was 15, I thought hmm maybe the fact it was a horrible first kiss that this was the reason i wasn’t feeling it (it was a horrible kiss) but that didn’t stop me I tried and tried so many times throughout my high school years even with a boyfriend which didn’t last long (poor guy properly thought he turned me) It seemed the more I tried the more it became just a routine kiss a guy no strings attached. Never feeling that internal I can’t live without this person in my life.

Jumped to the age of 19, To the first girl I kissed. I had a friend shall we call her (trial and error) I had known her since I was 12 & We all found out that she was with another girl, yes the 1st person i actually knew that was gay. I found myself being intrigued and I can’t remember to this day 100% but I think I ended up messaging her on chat (When all the chat rooms were all the rage) and asking her questions.. the questions lead to us talking a lot and hanging out a fair bit. Then we decided to go for a drive one night, we drove for hours till she pulled up to a street that had a area just to the side of the road we got out did the normal thing joked around each other, then her face turned serious her eyes looked onto mine & she just kissed me.

i still remember that feeling, that feeling that i had been wanting for all those years. That warmth and butterfly that just hit you all at once, like instantly. All the dots started to connect & things like my obsession to watch Joan of arc just for Leelee Sobieski & wanting to always hang with certain girl “friends” all start to made sense.

The issue in all this though was the girl that i had kissed also had a big mouth.. everyone I knew had found out not by me but by her. At first i was worried that it would change how my best friends would perceive me, how they would treat me. I was petrified that it would some how change the way they interacted with me.

The only person I actually ever told directly was my mum, she didn’t talk to me for days which seemed like years when you drop a bombshell that they never see coming. Don’t get me wrong my mum is the biggest supporter of my life choices now but it did take a while for her to understand and accept.

After many years of heartbreak from falling for the wrong people and some in your 20’s crazy choices, some good some bad I find myself in a relationship now for the past 6 years with a women. Im out to everyone in my personal life but not but still in my work life, maybe one day I will brave enough within myself to be able to live my true self in whatever form that may be across all aspects of my life. One thing I do know is, never feel guilty for making your happiness come first, never be sorry for being exactly who you were born to be. Im a 36 year old in finance from Sydney, Aus & Love has no labels and either do i.playground. My transgender one, however , came later in my life, around the time of middle school. I wasn’t feeling comfortable in my body, around my friends and family, or even whenever no one was around. I wasn’t happy anymore. I looked in the mirror, closed my eyes, and asked myself what would make me happy. I saw myself as a boy. And that surprised me. I talked to a friend, and they told me about the term transgender. That is when I figured out who I was.
Now I didn’t really have the chance to come out much. I only came out to a few people, but then the news spread like wildfire. My friends at my school were all accepting of me, some of them wished I told them myself, others were glad they new. But then it got to my parents, and they didn’t accept me at all. It was rough. Everyday I would cry just wanting my home life to be better. I almost took my own life. But then I found a “secret gay club” at my school. A bunch of lgbtq+ people came together after school on Friday’s to talk about their problems their stories and even just how they were feeling that day. I found a home there (even though I only went to about 3 meetings). They helped me learn to accept myself for who I am, labels or not.
Now it has been about 3 years since I have come out. Things have gone up and down but are gradually getting better. I have had a few people who have supported me throughout, and I couldn’t be more grateful. My home life is slowly but surely getting better, and even if it doesn’t I still have a few people who love me for who I am.
For anyone struggling to figure out who they are, finding what labels works for them, or are struggling with acceptance from themselves or others, THINGS GET BETTER !!! I PROMISE THEY DO !!! You have your whole life to figure out who you are. You don’t have to have a label if you don’t want to, you can just be you. Overtime, you will find acceptance. Whether it’s through someone you meet, people warming up to the idea of who you are, or even through sites like this, there will always be a community that will accept you. You just have to breathe, give it time, and never give up on yourself.

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

90% Gay

I have known all my life I was attracted to girls. My first memory was telling my mom when I was 4, that I liked my sister’s girl friends. My mother has been aware of my sexuality since I was born. She claims that all my relatives told her that judging by the shape of the belly, I was for sure a boy… well, they weren’t wrong nor right.

In my younger years it was weird. I used to dress like a boy, play sports and so on, so girls wouldn’t be my friends and boys weren’t comfortable with me, because I’m a girl.

When I was a teenager, I changed schools and I was determined to fit and have friends. So I began to embrace my feminine side.

It wasn’t until University that I realized I could be a women attracted to an other women because I met a bunch of gay people.

However, the process was tortuous because I couldn’t face that reality. And I had fought so hard to be “normal”. So it took me a couple of boyfriends to call it quits and stop hiding from me and my feelings.

However, no one except my sister and my mom knew I was gay.

One sunny day I met this girl and I fell madly in love with her. The feelings were so strong, I just couldn’t hide it. One little detail. She was straight. But I will always thank her because, to be able to process all I was feeling for her, I came out to almost everyone in my life.

A year later I met my wife and we’ve been together for 8 years.

However, even though I’m a grown ass woman, I haven’t been able to come out to my father’s very religious family.

My parents are very supportive but they are afraid my relatives could make a bad comment so they keep discouraging me to come out to them. I feel a heavy weight on my stomach because of this. I’m looking forward to just be able to be, without fear of my relatives and hurting my parents.

Being 90% gay means that you’ll keep coming out over and over again. In every doctor’s appointment “are you married? What’s your husband’s name?”, meeting a new colleague, and so on.

That slight fear that digs a hole in my chest each and every single time someone asks about my partner, never seems to go away. But that is just 10% of the time. The other 90% I’m just happy I get to love who I want and most of the people, don’t really care what I do on my free time.

Jess

Where do I start well I turn 18 in two weeks and have the overwhelming urge to finally come out as Queer to my extended family and friends but I know I can’t yet, where I currently live it is illegal to be apart of the community which is hard when you’re trying to navigate the waters and find where you fit in, I’ve known I was apart of the community since I was around the age of twelve, it’s kind of like when you meet your soulmate and people say when you know you know, it’s never a big revelation because deep down it’s a part of you that’s been there all along.

I came out to my parents last year, even though we’ve got an aunt who’s apart of the community it was the most nerve-wracking moment of my life so far, my dad immediately started changing the pronouns he used when talking about my future partners and marriage and all in all was as supportive as one could hope – I mean he didn’t jump over the chair and give me a hug but I could always feel his acceptance was there. My mum still talks about my future husband and how everything going to change and I’ll end up with the opposite life to what I’ve currently got my heart set on, she talks about my prince charming and honestly It does break my heart that I can’t give that to her but I can still have a great love story even if it isn’t how she’s always pictured it.

I live my true authentic self in secret online and for now, that’s more then I could ask for,
but one day, someday in the next three years I promise myself I will come out to everyone.
I’m more than ready.
I’ve been ready for a while now, it’s just about finding the safest time to share my
story with my family.

xoxo

Mikayla

In retrospect, there were plenty of signs throughout my childhood that proved I wasn’t straight. No, I didn’t just really, really want to be friends with certain female classmates like I thought at the time, I had huge crushes on them. At 13, I consciously made the decision to be an “ally” to my friend whom I thought might be gay. Oh, the irony. Even after taking every available “Am I Gay?” quiz on the internet, my brain managed to maintain the wall it put up to protect my consciousness from the reality of my queer identity. “Reality” involved too many struggles, uncertainties, and judgements that I would’ve had to face once I came out to myself, so I spent years unaware that a part of me had already begun questioning my sexuality. Then, when I was 16, I had a dream that I was dating one of my female classmates. I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night and said out loud to myself, “Shit, I’m gay.” An epiphany. Then, I smiled, so peaceful and happy to finally understand so much of my life from before that moment. Though, the fear eventually set in. I tried so desperately to stay closeted and avoid being a target for the homophobia expressed by my family and classmates that I spent everyday until graduation with the goal of being as invisible as possible. Almost three years later, I’d mostly come to terms with being bisexual and decided to come out to my little sister, step-sister, and best friend. They all accepted me immediately. Then, a few weeks later, the Pulse Nightclub shooting happened in my city and it stomped out all the light of my newfound openness. However, it was never a question that I would eventually come out to everyone I could, but afraid that I’d be disowned, I decided to wait until I graduated college and moved out of my mom’s house to come out to my parents. Things didn’t work out that way though because I was outed to my mother when she found paperwork from my therapist about my sexuality and a few other very serious issues I was seeking help for. I had to officially come out to her in a therapy session after that. She said she loved me no matter what but we haven’t spoken about it in three years. I was less interested in hiding my identity from my Trump-supporting dad since I didn’t live with him anyway. Eventually, he asked me about the pride flag on my keychain so I told him I was bi. He also said he loved me no matter what but that it’s better if I just pick one gender to be interested in (I decided to choose my battles wisely and leave that conversation for another time). He hugged me and said he’d keep my “secret” and we haven’t talked about it in a year. I have spent the last few years living “out” and finding where I belong in the world and among the vastness of the queer community. Most of this part of my journey has been led by Wynonna Earp, its fandom and cast, and Start The Wave, as they came into my life at the most pivotal moments possible and exactly when I truly needed them. The universe, man. And now, I’ll navigate the next steps of my journey to fully living as my authentic self with my brave little sister by my side since she has recently come out to me as bisexual. We got this. To other queer people, you got this, too.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

Jen, A Moslem closeted queer

Hi, my friend often call me Jen, I’m an Indonesian girl so, pardon my English .
Well.. how do I start?
Mm.. I was recognized my self being attracted to a girl when i was on a 8th grade, prior to it when i was on my 7th grade there was a girl who always want to walk home together and says that she attracted to me but I never considered it and I have to moved town and school.
At my 8th grade or when i was 14, I started to feel this strange attraction to a girl on my class, I love to watched her studiying, playing and anything from a far.
I felt it so intentsly until i feel that I can’t hold it anymore. I was so confuse. I didn’t know what to do.
Surounded by a moslem family, neighbourhood and being in the Country with the largest Moslem population didn’t help my confusion at all, me being truthfull for who I am will only sent me into another deeper problem.
Until one day I did a wager, I decided to tell the truth to my bestfriend. Her name is Tina. I said to my self that day, If she will accept me for who I am, I promise I’ll always be there for her.
And.. I told her, after school, and I cried, feeling guilty like i was comitted to a sin.
But.. her reaction is priceless, she smile and say thank you for trusting her and promise she wont tell anybody else, and be there for me when I need her..
And I cried harder.. hahah! I dont believe such a wisdom could came out from a 14 years old friend.
And yes. She’s keep her promise until now, we’ve been friends for 20 years now since then! And still awesome!
We were went to highschool together and that was when I need her the most.
I have a crush to a girl on my class on my first week in highschool. Her name is Vani
Unfortunately, she’s a daughter of a strongbeliever, rich, respectful Moslem family. Hahah..
But.. somehow it doesn’t affected us. We were friend, I tried make a move as a friend.. share something in common, i try to find what’s her hobby, what she likes, tried to matched her schedule study. And… at the end of the year, we were finally close.
We were almost unseparable on our second year. We had fun, go somewhere together and so on, until one day some of student around us start to whisper about our closeness. Say that i was a bad Influence for vani, that it was wrong for two girl holding hands, or too close. Well i was always considered as a bad girl at school, while Vani is the sweet, beautiful, kind, a true moslem, and sincere.
I realised that there were “something” between us. We just don’t want to admit it.
My bestfriend Tina try to confirm about the school gossip to me and I said, yes.. I think Im in love with Vani and I guess it wont be one sided love. And Vani is my first love I guess. I was 17 that time.
My friend Tina asked me: “are you happy..?” I said “Absolutely”
And then she asked again
“Will she (Vani) happy if you confess to her?”. I said “I have no idea..”
She then just said, “you know I supported you all the way, but please don’t make descision when you’re on cloud nine. Think about her too, think about the problem she will face, about her confussion after you confess. What if she doesnt have friend who support her ?”
Tina is right, I cant think only about my self.
So.. we spent the rest of our high school with being “best friend”. Until one day we go on our separate way to the University. We cried at each other arms when we went apart.

2 years went by after that. We met again on our high school reunion. Even we still keep in touch through SMS. But we never saw each other.
I never realise how much i missed her when i saw her again.
Andddd.. something i least expected happened. Vani Kissed me, yesss kissed me on the mouth! I was so surprise and she said “I missed you” . Damn.. i cant even say it back. My brain was numb.
We spent the night catching up, talking about ourself the past year, talked about her Engineering study, my Accounting study and else until its time to go on separate way again. We lived in different city and its quite far. About 5 hours driving.

We never talked about it again, and we just continued our life like usual, we texting each other on daily basis but never met until our graduation.
We met again after she and I graduate, she was back to our hometown but I still live in another town but at least its only 1,5 hours driving.
I often came to see her, to her house met her parents, befriend her sister and she sometimes came visit me..
We were getting close, so close until i can savely said that we were together. But we cant said it to anyone else. Except I tell it to my bestfriend Tina and her reaction only “im glad..but when somethings goes wrong, u know I always right behind you..”.

Me and Vani get together for about a year and a half becauuseee… she has to be married.. . Her family expect her to be married. Her family engaged her with a very decent man, the date has set in stone and we broke up 5 minutes before her wedding.. and I was her maid of honor.. hahah!

Vani and I still a good friend until now, she lived with her husband and 3 kids now and its been 10 years since her wedding. And we were both 33 years old now.
We live in different city but sometimes we visited each other. Her kids adore me! Haha. But I know my boundaries.
Vani often said to me, “move on please find your happiness, its what i always wanted.”

We knew too well that our surrounding wont accept us, that’ s why we gave up
But I knew we hold up each other preciously at our heart.

And.. Tina keep her promise to be always there for me, she’s now have 2 adorable kids. I always gratefull to have her. She’s there for me on my lowest and vice versa. One friend who accept me for who i trully am is more than enough for me to keep my sanity.
Because I never came out to anyone except her.

-Fin-

Wish anyone is luckier than me!

Khetalyn

I haven’t totally assumed myself yet, my family doesn’t accept me so I don’t have any support from anybody at the moment, and the fact that I’m a minor I don’t have many choices of what I really want, my mother found out some time ago that she liked girls, it was a very complicated period, it still is, because she told most of my relatives which none of them supports because they say that religion doesn’t allow it and that this is a sin. I live sincerely on the edge because it is complicated to live in a place that you feel threatened, that has no support and no choice of what to really feel, but we can’t get stuck in this tale that society invented that people of the same sex can’t be happy, that they are wrong and that this is not right. My dream is to be free, to be free from all this and to be able to enjoy every moment beside the one I really love, I hope to be free from all this someday. And I’m fighting, I still haven’t had the happy ending or the ending I want, but I won’t give up until I get it, and you too who go through this don’t give up, fight, be resistant.