Community Rainbow Waves

Human – but also very much gay

I have had a very fortunate journey unlike many of my LGBTQ+ brothers/sisters/non-binary folk. I became aware of my interest in the same sex from a young age. I specifically remember when I was in elementary school around age six or seven having crushes on my female classmates. At this time, I was unaware that many people across the world thought it was “morally” wrong to love members of the same sex in a romantic way. It wasn’t until one evening (when I was still in elementary school) that I was taking a shower and my mother came in unannounced. She was holding my diary. The very same diary that I expressed my feelings of attraction towards other girls. I don’t remember the exact conversation but I do remember that it made me feel like I needed to safeguard my emotions and keep what I was experiencing a secret, even from my family.

Fast forward to when I started middle school (around age 10-11 in the United States). I got my first “official” girlfriend who was on my club soccer team. I use quotations solely because we were very young & unexperienced and didn’t tell anyone about our relationship. Eventually, during this relationship, I wanted to tell my mom that I liked girls. I panicked but still managed to muster up the courage to send her a text message (classic, I know) while I was at school. I said something along the lines of “I have a crush on …, I don’t want you to be mad and I’m sorry”. I did it. I sent the message. I wasn’t worried about an immediate response because she is a teacher and wouldn’t be looking at her phone until the end of the day. Though, when it was time for me to ride the bus home and confront her, I was terrified. I got home before she did and pretended to be asleep to avoid the dreadful conversation that was ultimately inevitable. When we were finally face to face, I remember trying so hard to keep my emotions neutral but began bawling my eyes out. Her reaction wasn’t as I had hoped. Again, I don’t remember the whole conversation, but I do remember one thing that she said – “I don’t understand, I have friends that are girls and I have never felt this way”. That comment filled me with loneliness. Now, I have always had the “I simply don’t give a fuck” attitude and exterior, but that conversation broke me.

A few years later in high school (age 14-15), I had a different girlfriend who I believe I was in love with that was also on my soccer team. There was one evening my club had a meeting about future events that my mom drove me to. As we were pulling out of the parking lot to go home, my mom asked me a very simple question. She said “are you in a relationship with …? I can see the way you feel by the way you look at her”. It was then that I decided I was not going to lie about it anymore. I said yes and the whole 30-minute drive home, my mother cried in front of me as I sat quietly.

This whole time I think I have talked about my mother in a negative light, but I don’t want to portray her as someone who doesn’t support me. Currently, I am 23 and we have an amazing relationship in which she loves me unconditionally. The way she reacted while I was in elementary, middle, and high school wasn’t ideal, but it was a process for her just as much as me, and I grew to understand that throughout my childhood and adolescence. Mainly she was scared for me knowing about how people treat others once they discover they are a member of the LGBTQ+ community, she has always wanted to guarantee my safety.

I recognize that some people don’t care for my story and that’s okay, but I thought I would put it out there for reassurance for anyone who might need or want it. Unfortunately, not all stories end like mine. A lot of parents don’t understand or refuse to understand, causing an unmeasurable amount of pain, sorrow, distrust, etc. that never goes away for that individual. I want it to be known that it won’t always feel that way. One day you will be able to leave if you decide to. With that, there is a community that will always love you and let you know that your feelings and experiences are valid. You are loved and worthy.

Another topic I would like to speak on is mental health. (I know when will this bitch end omggggg). For my first year of college, I moved away and lived in a house with my friends. It was a truly remarkable experience that I love and cherish – but it is also a place where I experienced my first horrible panic attack. Note, I was very naïve back then and didn’t know what a panic attack was before that. It has been roughly five years since it happened and I still struggle with anxiety almost daily. It is okay to ask for help, it actually takes massive metaphorical balls to do so. Please know that you are strong. You are important. You and your story matters. Thank you.

Bisexual

This isn’t really the most interesting coming out story in the world but I thought I’d contribute my story anyway.
I figured out that I was attracted to girls in the seventh grade. It wasn’t so much a “Oh shit! I like girls! I’m not straight!” as it was a “Oh, so the magnitude of my fixation on *insert any female actress* is NOT experienced by everyone”. However, I didn’t really process what that information meant until one of my classmates had offhandedly mentioned that she had a girlfriend and that she identified as a lesbian. Now don’t get me wrong, I knew that people could like someone of the same gender identity, but the meaning behind being queer held no weight to me until someone put a label onto it. It sort of clicked in a way that made me realize that maybe I was bisexual. Because of that realization, I did the obvious thing and took hundreds of “What is my sexuality?” quizzes and found solidarity and comfort among the dozens of famous or slightly relevant LGBTQ+ Youtube videos and Youtube series’ that were available in 2014.
Before my descent down the rabbit hole that is the numerous quality LGBTQ+ media available to the public, I decided to come out to one of my former best friends. She did not realize that was trying to come out to her, and I had to come out to her again 4 years later.
It took me 2 years after I had realized that I wasn’t straight to actually come out to someone, 1 year to feel comfortable with a label, and like 1 month to decide that- if someone asked me what my sexuality was- I would tell them the truth. So basically, it took 2 years for one of my other best friends to outright ask me if I was asexual before I could say that I was pan/bi. It took me a year after that to come out to my best friend since elementary school. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to hide my sexuality from her as it was that it wasn’t something I wanted to be defined by, nor was it the most important detail about me. Despite my resolve to just come out to her if I ended up liking someone who happened to have the same gender identity as me, I panic texted her. This was after a friend of ours asked me if I was straight while my best friend was sitting there with us. I ended up giving that friend a roundabout answer and then came out officially to my best friend at midnight over text.
Now, I am luck enough to not experience extreme homophobia directed at myself and I am extremely lucky to be, and have been, friends with open-minded and accepting people, so I didn’t really consciously feel internalized homophobia/biphobia until years after I realized that I was indeed NOT straight. I didn’t feel that way until I was asked by my mom to warn her if I happened to be attracted to a girl or, better yet, just not like girls at all. Because of that, I grew conscious of the underlying yet ever-present homophobia found in my relative’s uninformed opinions about the LBGTQ+ community. I wasn’t afraid that my family would disown me or stop loving me, but I became afraid that I would have to compromise who I am in order not be seen as an outlier by my aunts and uncles. Honestly, I was more afraid because I wasn’t sure how my parents would react. I ended up hiding who I am from both my parents and my older sister, who I knew didn’t care and didn’t hold the same “traditionalist” values that my extended family and my parents did. I was too afraid that, if I told her, my parents and extended family would somehow find out. I made the same resolve that I had made before with my elementary school best friend: I would just casually introduce my girlfriend to her when I eventually started to actually date girls (or people in general). That, however, did not happen. Instead, I came out to her when she asked me how I identified while we were watching Bon Appetit Youtube videos.
These aren’t the only coming out stories that I have, and I definitely didn’t elaborate on every detail, but these were the moments that actually held some importance to me. Each time I came out to someone that held/holds an extreme amount of importance to my life, none of it went as planned. I had to take a leap of faith and trust that I was loved enough that, a detail about who I was, wasn’t going to change how my friends and family viewed me. I’m still not out to the rest of my family, but knowing that I didn’t have anything to hide from my sister lifted a weight I didn’t even know I had on me. Even without me coming out, my parents have started to become more welcome to the idea that girls like girls and that’s okay.
Just having even one person to talk to, who knew I liked girls, helped me to become even more comfortable with my sexuality. Without the positive LGBTQ+ representation in the media, I would have felt alone before I even knew what I identified as. I was okay with my sexuality until I wasn’t, but, even then, I had enough support to continue to take leaps of faith.
I don’t think there’s really a right way to come out, nor do I know when the right time to come out is. However, I do think that having even one person (whether it’s someone online or someone you know in real life) know and support you for who you are is by far the most freeing thing in the world.
I’m out and proud to the people that I get to choose to include in my life, and I am so excited to see the world continually progress and become a more accepting place (with better LGBTQ+ and PoC representation in mainstream media)

The Right People Will Always Stand By You

I knew when I was 14 that I was a lesbian. I actually had a friend in the LGBTQIA+ community that I had talked about for a while. When I was questioning my sexuality and trying to understand why I was feeling disconnected from all the girls talking about the Hemsworth brothers. We would be up at night, and he would just ask me questions. “What attracts you to a person? What do you imagine your partner to look like? What type of people catches your eye? Is there someone that you like now?” It just helped to have someone asking and just listening. A year later, as a kind of joke later when I was telling him about the people that I’ve told, he said, “You never officially told me you’re a lesbian.” Anyone who studied the performative understands where this is a little funny. He has just been such a great rock for me, and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

I came out to people in so many different ways. I told someone at dinner at IHOP. A friend I already came out to gave me an opening, and I said, “I haven’t told my parents this yet, but I’m gay.” She didn’t make any jokes or say, “I hope you aren’t trying to make a move on me” or anything like that. She was just supportive, and I could not ask for better friends in my life. It became a game of who have I told and who can they say things in front of. I sent someone Ally Hill’s Coming Out song, others from texts, during ice skating, and now just from passing comments rather than me announcing it to everyone.

The person I was most scared to tell was a teacher that became more of a friend over the years. I wanted to tell her because she saved me from myself and gave me the best chemistry education I could ask for. As she was my teacher, she couldn’t discuss her stance on things, so I had no idea how she would react. She moved schools, and I felt like telling her deserved more than an email, so I waited for when she visited, and I gave her a letter. It explained I was gay when I knew why I wanted to tell her, and why I am so scared. She emailed me later and said, “there is nothing you can do or say that will make me love you any less, ok?” It just made me feel like everything is ok and that I’m not going to lose someone over this part of me.

I tell people that I feel are important in my life, and I refuse to tell people that would put me in a bad situation or disregard it in any way. I’m 17, and I haven’t told anyone in my family, but I’ve told the people that I feel comfortable with it. Coming out will be something constant, and everyone has the right to come out when and how they want. There is no time frame and no expectations other than being authentically you. I’ve had a very positive coming out experience. Still, a lot of people don’t have that, and I want people to know that you will always have this community in your corner. You’re not alone, and we will all be here for you.

Happiness

I started to realise I liked girls when I was around 11 years old. Before that age, I’d had crushes on girls but not really known they were crushes. I thought I just wanted to look like those girls or be best friends with them. But that wasn’t the case. My mother would often call me a “dyke” if I wore certain clothes that she thought to be too masculine etc. I was very much a tomboy. She’d tell me “people will think you’re gay” and that scared me a little bit. Where I lived, a lot of people were assaulted because they were gay. I even had people would call me gay like it was a bad thing, like it was a hateful word and so I accepted it as that. That was until I told my friend that I believed I liked girls and she told me she also felt that way. My whole life I’d only ever heard bad things said about the community. But with this friend, I finally didn’t feel alone. Before telling my friend, I’d fallen into some very dark places. It was a scary time that I’d never want to relive. I came out to my mother as bisexual when I was 17. I remember the moment incredibly vividly. We were sat on the couch, my laptop open with the wallpaper as Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn, and my mother looks at my laptop, laughs, and calls me a “dyke” yet again. It bothered me. So I finally just said “you know what, yeah, I like girls”. We had a lengthy talk and she told me it didn’t bother her. It was nice to hear because, even though I did not need her acceptance, I still wanted it in a way. I came out as bisexual to her, and my closest friends, because I wanted to hold onto the idea of “maybe I’m still a bit normal if I say I still like boys”. I was confused and depressed for a very long time, even after coming out as bisexual because I still wasn’t being 100% honest with myself. I just wanted to be normal. But then I realised that everyone’s idea of “normal” is different. I thought that if I pretended to keep liking, and dating, boys that it would somehow make people view me as not so different. But, now at the age of 20, I have finally accepted myself for who I truly am and that is a lesbian. I know some people who don’t feel that they need to label themselves but I did. I needed a label and I’ve finally found the one that fits me best. I’m sexually and emotionally attracted to women and I simply don’t feel anything like that for men. It doesn’t make me weird or not normal; it simply makes me, me. I finally love myself and I’m finally confident. I can now openly talk to my mother about my sexuality and not feel terrified. I can watch shows like Wynonna Earp, Carmilla, Buffy etc with her and not feel like I have to hide the fact I watch them simply because they have queer relationships in them. She loves me for who I am and so do my friends. Others opinions of you aren’t vital, but it’s still comforting for me, personally, to know that they are happy for me. It took my a long time to finally accept who I am but noe that I have I’m happy and I wouldn’t change a thing!

Lesbian

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.

I came out when I was 14 years of age, 13 years ago, most of my family were accepting, though a few were not. Some still not to this day, but have been a little more accepting through the years. Shockingly for me the older generation in the family were more supportive than the younger, excluding my dad. My dad was not accepting at first, it come to the point where I didnt have any contact with my dad for over two years.. due to the fact that when I was in my late teens he actually tried to pay me to be with a boy! As you could tell that was a big no. Thankfully my dad is 100% supportive of me now and we have a great relationship. Many people ask me how I could forgive him? My reply.. whats the point in holding on to something bad, when hes sorry and I’ve had many more happy memories shared with him. I have had many struggles in life many battles I have fought, the most hardest was being told I was confused because I was sexually assaulted from the age of 12 to 14, “your not gay, your just traumatised”, i always new from a young age, the first time I kissed a girl, 9 years of age (practising) like kids did. My happest memory of coming out was actually only 2 years ago, to my great grandfather, I was always told not to say anything as he was old and wouldn’t understand, i was very close with my grampa so, when he was 93 I came out to him, he did not judge me what so ever he just told me about the time he met my great grandmother, and told me it doesn’t matter who you love, it doesn’t matter how much you fight, if you love you them don’t ever let them go . That conversation was one of the last conversations I had with him. Its a conversation that I hold dear to me and one people should listen to.

Hoping to know soon

I have just discovered Wynonna Earp this year (2021) and through watching that came across Dom’s post, and I have never in my life been so inspired and scared at the same time. I related to her words so much and felt so thankful for this person that I have never even met.

I’m 29 years old and I have been annoyed at myself for not truly knowing myself at this stage in my life, but maybe this is just how my journey is meant to be. I am not out. I have a boyfriend of nearly 6 years, who I love, but I don’t think we’re in love anymore. I have always felt I could fall in love with a man or woman. I have suppressed my feelings in the past, and constantly doubted what I was feeling – I thought because I was abused as a child that that was the reason that I didn’t always fancy boys. Plus, I already had (have) that secret, surely I can’t deal with another one…please.

I guess there’s always been that part of me that was hiding, I was always looking to please other people and I never once gave in to what I thought could make me happy. When my Twin sister came out as gay, I assumed well that’s it, I can’t be gay or bisexual because she is, that must mean I do like boys, so I’ll just carry on with my life. Yet, every now and again, there’d be something in me that just wasn’t sure.. I guess I came up with every excuse in my head…I still am in a way to be honest, but maybe that’s why I’m writing this – to prove to myself that I can finally learn to be my true self.

All I have ever wanted from life is to be happy, and I don’t know that I ever have been, but I’m trying to change that, and I am hoping that one day soon I will be able to confidently express who I really am and be welcomed in to a community that I am yearning to join, but feel so damn scared to. I just want to be me…whoever that may be.

Becoming the man I am, the man I want to be. And reclaiming the things I had resented over the years.

Growing up I was one of the boys, gender didn’t matter. Playing outside, drawing with chalk on sidewalks, riding around in our little toy go carts and just generally being happy, back then no one cared about labels, boy or girl.
We cared about our friends and loved them no matter what.
Starting school was different, suddenly I was pushed into the role of the gender I was assigned at birth, made to wear pink clothes, not getting the car or dragon bag I wanted, instead it was pink, with cats on it – I don’t have anything against cats, or the color Pink in fact – but back then, it was the worst thing that could happen to me, being forced into wearing and doing things that were stereotypically feminine, it hurt. It really hurt.
Because I perceived myself completely differently from the people around me. I wasn’t and still am not a girl. I never was.

It took years for me trying to figure out my place in this world, who I was and who I strived to be. When I was twelve I finally was able to get the haircut I always wanted, short hair. And boy did it feel great.
I knew that trans people existed, my mother even was friends with a trans man When I grew up, but I still didn’t realize that people assigned female at birth could transition to male.
I mean how could I have known? The representation lacked and still is lacking, but I will elaborate on what that means to me later.
I only knew about trans women existing so when I finally realized that trans men existed, and I would be able to transition, I jumped with joy.

But then the dread settled in, how would I tell the people around me?
My Mama? My grandparents? My friends?
What if they wouldn’t want me anymore because I am me? Should I live my life unhappy? I also had a bad case of imposter syndrome, constantly questioning myself when I knew I was so sure.
So I took small steps, telling my mother about the possibility that I might not be female, as she perceived. Telling a few friends and so far everyone reacted nicely, no one badmouthed me or told me how wrong I was for finding out who I was.

Still it took me years after that, until March of this year to be exact. To finally be able to voice proudly who I was, that I was David, not the name chosen for me at birth. Finally, telling people to please respect my name and pronouns.

2020 so far has been detrimental for me, being able to start treatment soon (I hope that I can be on HRT before summer 2021, and so far that might be the case), I figured where I want to go in life, and I finally reclaimed things I was grown to resent because of the perception being stereotypically female.
I am able to wear pink again! Wear nail polish or ear rings, which made me so uncomfortable before.
I figured out what I want to do in life, I want to give people like me and the LGBTQ+ community the representation it deserves. If that does not work out, I will go into psychology to help LGBTQ+ youth find themselves. I just desperately want to give the community what they deserve, and what I did not have growing up.

I still have a long journey to go, but I’ve already come this far, I’ve already had so much thrown at me that I am ready to face the world as who I am.

And I hope that i will read this one day, proud of what I’ve achieved, proud of the young man I am now.

I hope this message gives people the strength they need. Love the people around you, no matter who they are or want to be. Spread love.

Stay healthy, Be safe, be proud.

Much love
-David

Bisexual

My coming out was not the best. I was forced out by an ex’s parent. I was 18 and was in a complicated relationship with my best friend at the time. Unfortunately the future would show me she was neither my girlfriend nor my friend, but that’s another story. She had wanted furniture for her room so I told her I could give her some of mine because I didn’t really use my drawers. Of course that caused commotion at home so I lied and told my parents I was going to move in with her. That way they wouldn’t think I was just giving her my stuff. My mom drove me n the furniture over to her house and I was going to bring the furniture inside. Her Father and my mom started talking while I went to her room to figure out where to out everything. Next thing I know my mom comes up to me and says ” el dice que quieres a su hija.” (Meaning he said u love his daughter) and my heart dropped but I didn’t want my mom to know I was freaking out so what I said was “So”. After that my mother broke down crying and we ended up not leaving the furniture. What followed was being ignored and getting kicked out a number of times. The good thing is now that I’m 30 my mom has become more accepting but I would have loved to have told her when I was ready.

Anna, 28, Germany

My Coming Out was 2 years ago.

I noticed early that I not only liked boys, but also felt drawn to the girls. I quickly put those thoughts aside because I thought I was confused. I was in the middle of puberty.

The thoughts always came out over the years. But I still thought I was confused.

This was until I was 26 years old. Then I met her. She unexpectedly showed me what it means to be loved. She gave me love, security and acceptance. She gave me all of these things without expecting anything in return. She showed me what I wanted. WOMEN

My parents had probably suspected this longer. One day I was visiting them and before I could say something they asked me: “when do we get to know her?”

My parents and siblings have no problems with it. They want me to be me. I don’t need to pretend anymore. I live my life. This acceptance and appreciation of my family gives me support and strength for the future. Because I know I can always rely on them …

“Love is love. It doesn’t matter whether you are into a man or a woman. The main thing is that you are loved and accepted. And you feel good. We don’t want more.” This is a statement from my parents.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.