Community Rainbow Waves

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

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.

No rainbow without the rain – Queer sunshine

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

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

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

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

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

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

Odaatlover

This story will include a lot of binary-ness in order to properly convey my thoughts and feelings, since that’s how I saw the world for most of my life.

It was sometime around 7th grade when I began to realize that I liked girls. Of course, there were signs way before then – always wanting to be the “man” when playing house, always using the pronouns “she/her” when making up love songs, constantly removing the clothes from my sister’s Barbie dolls…and this all happened when I was in the single digits. But around 12 years old was when I became curious about other girls in a way that – looking back now – was more than just friendly. I liked boys, they made good friends since I had more in common with them than with other girls, but something about girls was more alluring to me. I had a curiosity for them that was indescribable. Of course, now that I’m an adult, I know exactly how to describe it…GAY AF.

There was this one girl that I found really attractive…we’ll call her Anne, for the sake of anonymity. Anne was in my class in 7th grade, and I found myself looking at her (AKA, checking her out) quite often. In 8th grade, Anne was in the same P.E. class as me. When changing out in the locker rooms, I always chose the locker close to hers. At the time, I thought it was because I just liked that particular locker…NOPE. Turns out it was just because I liked that particular Anne. I would steal glances at her body, which I’m a little embarrassed to admit now because it seems very stalkerish, but if you’re not creepily stalking your crush at 13 years old, are you really even 13 years old? See, I had no idea it was possible to even be attracted to girls like that, because my parents did an excellent job of shielding me from the “gay lifestyle” (nice try, ‘rents). So, I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed that I was obsessed with her because I wanted to be her, not because I was attracted to her or anything. So I proceeded to carry out the rest of my middle school career with the carefree mindset that I was just like everyone else my age. Ah, the serenity.

Then I went to high school…and 9th grade was a game changer for me. I found out that, plot twist, you actually can be gay! (insert well-known Home Alone Macaulay Culkin picture here)

I started to notice myself paying more attention to (eye humping) girls around me, and I began to question my sexuality. Do I like girls? Am I gay? I like boys too though, right? I mean, I must, because obviously in every single movie and TV show I’ve ever seen, girls like boys…I’m probably bisexual. Yep, that’s it. I’m bisexual. Mystery solved!

…that lasted all of three days after making the dreadful mistake of looking at porn sites with naked men on our home computer while my parents were out of the house. *shudders*

Nope. Definitely not bisexual. I only like girls. 100%.

But then, a thought occurred to me…”can I really say that if I’ve never had a boyfriend before? I don’t think I can…I need a boyfriend!”

A couple months later, after daily bartering and promises to a god that I didn’t believe in that I would do my chores every day in exchange for a boyfriend (as if god somehow cared that my room was kept clean and the dishwasher was emptied regularly), a miracle happened…the very awkward boy in my P.E. class that I had never spoken more than two words to passed me a note that said, verbatim, “I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” And of course, I said ‘yes’. I was beyond excited…until the next day, when the initial excitement of the thought of having a boyfriend had worn off, and I realized that this guy was my boyfriend. Before, I was only thinking about the label ‘boyfriend’, not about what the job actually entailed. I took one look at him and had this sinking feeling in my stomach that something wasn’t right. I had a boyfriend…not a girlfriend, a boyfriend. I had to hold this guy’s bulky hand, and hang out with him outside of school, and converse with him while he looked at me like I was special, and kiss him. And none of that sounded appealing to me. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last very long. And honestly, I’m not even sure if I can call it a relationship since we never held hands, never kissed, and never spoke outside of that P.E. class. In fact, I barely even spoke to him *during* P.E. class. I avoided that boy like the plague, and the only thing that dictated that we were even together was the fact that I had changed my status on Myspace to “in a relationship”. I mean, I had a better connection with my dog – who was a female, ironically.

It wasn’t until I was 15 and nearing the end of 10th grade that I had finally told one of my friends that I liked girls. She was one of those friends that I was kind of close to, but not super close to. I specifically chose her because I knew she would be okay with it, but just in case she wasn’t, I wouldn’t be super heartbroken about losing her as a friend. I texted her (of course) that there was this girl that I liked – not Anne, someone completely different, because teens move fast – and she was super cool with it!

A couple of months later at band camp, I was eating lunch in the dining hall with the guys on the drum line with me, and an attractive girl from another camp walked by, and one of the guys said, “Whoa, that girl is hot!” The rest of the guys at the table verbally agreed, and I naturally nodded my head in silence. He noticed, and with a surprised look asked me, “You think she’s hot?” I paused, doing the whole internal dialogue of do I lie or do I use this moment to come out? I chose the latter, and nodded my head. With an even more surprised look, he asked, “Are you gay?” I nodded my head again. The guys at the table looked around at each other and basically said, “Oh, cool.” Some were surprised, some were not so surprised, but nobody said anything negative. By the end of band camp, pretty much the entire band knew, and I was out!

After that, I decided to change my newly created Facebook profile to say “interested in women”. I set it to where only my friends at school could see, since they already knew, and it felt really freeing.

…turns out it was set to public, and my mom saw it. This was a couple of months after band camp. It was a September day, and she was driving me home from a lesson I had with my percussion teacher. With a small laugh she asked, “Why does your Facebook profile say that you’re interested in women?” She obviously thought that it was a mistake – and a very amusing one at that – and I did the internal dialogue thing again. Am I ready? Do I take the opportunity and just run with it? There’s never going to be a good time, and everyone at school already knows. Might as well just get it over with now. With a very small voice, I said, “Because I am.” She stopped laughing, and the car got really quiet. The amused smile was wiped from her face, and was replaced by a look of something that resembled a mix of pain, disappointment, and confusion. I had never been more terrified in my entire life than I was in that moment.

You see, I come from a very religious, very conservative family. So, to say that she wasn’t okay with it was an understatement. (Author’s note: What the FUCK was I thinking??)

She was quiet the rest of the ten-minute drive home with a frown plastered on her face, obviously trying to figure out what to say to her ‘confused’ daughter, since she had been completely blindsided. And I just sat there looking ahead at the road, trembling with sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat, realizing that I had just made a terrible mistake. I wanted so badly to go back inside my comfortable little closet, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

When we got home, she forced me to tell my dad. My dad has the same personality as me – witty, unassertive, avoids confrontation, wouldn’t hurt a fly, nerdy. Growing up, my mom was the ‘scary’ parent. I wasn’t afraid of what my dad would say in response, because he’s a very calm man, unlike my mom. Not that she’s a man, but she’s not the chillest cube in the tray if you get what I mean.

But as soon as she said I had to tell him, I began to freak out, because it meant that I would have to come out again. Having to unexpectedly come out like that two times in a span of 15 minutes is a lot for a young 16-year-old. Not only that, but I had never actually said the words “I’m gay” or “I like girls” out loud to someone before. I told my friend through text, I nodded my head at band camp, and the only words I had said to my mom were “because I do.” In order to tell my dad, I was going to have to actually tell him that I was gay, which terrified me more than anything in my entire life. I wasn’t ready for that, and yet I was being forced into doing so.

I walked up to my parents’ bedroom where he was lying in bed reading a book, with my mom following closely behind me. She told him that I had something to tell him, and he got up and just looked at me with confusion. I stood there, frozen, unable to get the words out. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Go ahead, tell him what you told me.” My mom said as she waited impatiently with her arms folded sternly across her chest. I instantly broke down and started crying, and my dad just hugged me. I finally was able to choke out the words “I like girls” through my sobs, and my dad just audibly swallowed in response and proceeded to hug me tighter.

The rest of that day is a bit of a blur, considering that was over 11 years ago, but basically once I had calmed down, my parents told me it wasn’t right. That I was confused, that marriage is between a man and a woman, that two women can’t even have sex together because their “parts don’t fit” (lol…I wish I had drawn them a diagram), blah blah blah. After that, my mom would sit down with me every night and we’d do ‘bible study’ together. This was on top of the Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night church services I had already been forced to attend since I was born. I was never a religious person, and even as a little kid I hated going to church, so you can imagine how awful it was having to read a book I didn’t believe in every single night with my homophobic mother, basically hating myself. This lasted pretty much until I graduated and left for college, two years later.

I never officially came out to my older sister. My parents told her, and she and I never really talked about it because I was too afraid that she would treat me the same way as my mom, but she was respectful. Everyone at school was supportive though. Nobody in my life had a problem with it except for my parents, so I began to gravitate towards my friends and away from my family.

In 12th grade, I had this friend that I was getting really close to. I worked up the courage to tell her that I liked her, and it didn’t go as well as planned. She blocked me on Facebook and never spoke to me again. Whenever she saw me in the hallways at school, she would move to the opposite side and avoid eye contact. That was a bit difficult to get through, seeing as it was the first time I ever told a girl that I liked her. But a few months later I got my first girlfriend, so it was okay. I didn’t need that girl anyways. *holds up ’90s ‘talk to the hand’ gesture* Oh, and I was with my first girlfriend for almost a year and a half (with the first year being long distance), but we weren’t compatible. Honestly, we were both tops, and even more honestly, I would’ve said yes to any girl at that point. But she was cool, and we still talk from time to time. So it’s all good.

When I got to college, I wasn’t shy about my sexual orientation. I got my degree in music education, and the majority of the guys at the music school were gay, so I knew it was a safe space. Nobody had a problem with it, and I was actually pretty popular and had a lot of friends. There were a lot of gay guys, but I was pretty much the only gay female, which made me pretty well-known. So, college life was great! Whenever I would have to go home for breaks, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to go back to that house. I didn’t want to go back to my parents. I wanted to stay in my safe little world with my supportive friends where I could make my own decisions, be who I truly was without feeling ashamed or embarrassed, and wasn’t forced to go to church. My college was only two hours away from ‘home’, but thankfully it was just far enough that I didn’t have to go back often.

Skip to 2020 (two bad relationships later), and both of my parents are still unsupportive. But at least they don’t say anything when I bring my wife to family get-togethers. They’re polite. My sister LOVES my wife, and we often hang out with my sister and her husband. Even though religion is very important to her, she’s way more open-minded than my parents, and is accepting of my sexuality and recognizes my marriage as one that’s equal to hers. After I came out to my parents, I kind of lost that relationship I had with them. I’m not super close with them, since they never truly made me feel loved and accepted. They supported me in every other aspect of my life, but couldn’t fully embrace who I was, since they don’t believe that my sexuality is real but rather just a sin and a man-made thought put into my head by modern society.

I currently only live 30 minutes away from my parents, but only visit them for special occasions. I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, but honestly, at this age I am 100% okay with that. I don&##8217;t rely on them for anything anymore, and I have an amazing wife, wonderful friends who I consider my family, and a supportive sister. I don’t need my parents to accept me in order to feel validated about who I am, and that’s okay.

So, if you’re a young person who is currently in the closet or who has come out and is having an awful experience with it, just know that it truly does get better. I know everyone says that, and it’s probably difficult to believe at this point in your life, but it really is true. I promise.

And if you’re a parent whose kid is struggling with their own gender or sexuality, then my advice to you is to be supportive. Tell them that you love them. And tell them that you support them, even if you don’t. The last thing you want to do is make them feel like who they are is invalid or wrong, because you will lose them. Even if you’re there for them through everything else, if you can’t get on board with something that is an integral part of their very being, then you will lose them.

Thank you for reading my story, and I hope this helps someone out there

Larissa

I’m a 30 years old queer cisgender woman that knew from a very young age that I liked girls. However, I didn’t really know that I was a lesbian at that time.
As far as I can remeber I had crushes on girls, but as a kid growing up in the northeast of Brazil (a very “tradicional” region) I had no queer references whatsoever. I just knew that girls were suppost to like boys, so I faked it, throughout my entire adolescence. I dated boys and kisses a lot of them so that no one would suspect that I was actually in love with a girl friend.
It was only when I went to college in another state across the country that I had the courage to try to kiss a girl. In a traditional Brazilian festivity, carnaval, I kissed a girl for the first time and that made me realize how much I wanted to do that for my entire life. Since It was a party and there was a lot of alchool involved none of my friends said much about It, and I actually ended up with some other guys for almost an year before finally having the guts to admit first to my self, that I was definitely not into guys.
It was watching shows with queer characters that helped me build the stregnth to come out, in special Naya Rivera’s Santana in Glee. I related so much to her that I started to feel the need to be honest with myself, to stop hiding who I was, that’s when I leaned on my first openly gay friend to start going out more, meeting girls and telling people around me that I was gay. I then came out to my childhood friends who still lived in my hometown and it was such a releaf to hear them say that they loved just the same. It was time to tell my family. In a visit to my parents house, on a long weekend that my dad was way I told my mother. Her reaction was as far from undestanding as it could possibly be, she didn’t speak to me again for several months. As I left the very next day, heart broken, I didn’t really know what to do next. My mother told my older sister who called me and said that my mom was devasted, crying all the time and not eating, begging me to go to a therapist. I knew that they were expecting me to be “cured” by this therapist but I went anyway to try to make amends. It turned out the therapist was a really nice woman who knew my sister and their intentions and told me at the first session that she wasn’t there to cure me, but to help me cope with everything I was going throutgh. My father was the real light for me at that time, he asked me to have patience with my mom, that she was taking it pretty hard but was trying to be better for me and that he would love me for the both of them until then.
A lot of scars had to heal before I started to feel whole again and be proud of who I am, but as I was going through all of this with my mom I kept reminding myself that I needed to treat her with the same love and acceptence that I expected to get from her. Now, eight year later, she has come a long way. It took patience and love, but most importantly I knew I wasn’t alone.

Young, Southern, and Queer

Realizing you’re queer in the southern United States isn’t as hard as it used to be, but it isn’t a walk in the park. The first time I knew what a queer relationship was was about 2016. My oddball science teacher had gone on another tangent and she had ended up on the topic of LGBT people. In that moment, something in my brain clicked and I just immediately knew I was gay. Of course, I was only 12 at the time and didn’t know much about myself and it could be argued at that time that I was just trying to go along with whatever came my way. But I know now that it wasn’t as such. It was true. I was queer; I liked women. My parents found out I was questioning homosexuality not long after, and they instilled a fear in me. They made it quite clear that homosexuality was not going to be allowed in their house. So I hid. I denied myself of being gay. I refused to acknowledge it. About 2 years later, I kissed a boy for the first time and it just made me gag more than anything else. And a few weeks later, I had discovered some gay content and finally came to terms with accepting that part of myself. Since then, I’ve questioned my gender as well. Where I’m at right now, I say I am genderqueer, but I know that is subject to change as I age and grow. And I’m okay with that. My parents haven’t taken too well to all of this. It took them a while to finally accept me liking women, but they refuse to accept that I may be genderqueer or nonbinary. So I keep that to myself for now. I know who I am, and that’s what matters. Most recently, I’ve begun working to fight for LGBT rights in the south. For my college classes, I’ve written quite a few essays depicting specific LGBT issues and now am taking this summer to start working for change. I plan on lobbying in government and starting a movement. I have been inspired by Start The Wave in order to begin this chapter. I’ve always wanted to advocate, but with an organization like this showing the possibilities, I feel supported and empowered. Change is on the horizon.

Sheelagh

I’m sorry my story is pretty long. Please feel free to edit as you will. I sent the wrong one yesterday. If you’re going to upload this please use this instead. Thanks!

Title: Yes I am, Undo Me and Ghost

My name is Sheelagh. I was born and raised in the Philippines. I grew up Christian with a mixture of Catholicism. My family is well-known in the Filipino-Chinese community. Both sides of the family are well-to-do. My grandparents built a Evangelical church next door because of his faith. Among my family’s businesses, we distributed Christian music in the Philippines. My Christian upbringing was certainly a very important part of my life.

My story begins in Kindergarten. This was the first time I felt the feeling of “being different.” I had a crush on my teacher. The older I got, I would always notice the girls in my class. However, I did not understand any of this. I didn’t know if there was a word to describe who or what I am.

When I was 5th grade, I remember being in a car with my entire family. My older sister asked my parents the pivotal question that kept me in the closet for the longest time. She asked: “What is something your children would do that you would not be able to forgive us for?” After a long pregnant pause, my mom replied, “If I found out one of my four children is gay/homosexual.” I went to the dictionary and found out what the word homosexual meant. Okay, now I had a word to describe who I and what I am. If I come out, my parents will never forgive me for it. I remember thinking to myself, “that’s great. I will just keep this information to myself.”

In 7th grade, I walked into a music store and asked the salesperson if she had any recommendations for me. I wanted something new, alternative and different. She introduced me to Melissa Etheridge. Something in the lyrics of her songs spoke to my soul. I was able to come out to myself and say “Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yes, this is who I am.” For years, I went to sleep listening to all her albums at night.

When I was a Sophomore in high school, a friend came out to me. I stopped talking to her after that conversation. I stopped hanging out with her. She eventually left school and went to the US to finish high school. I still feel bad about this. I hurt her because I was not ready to face that part of myself.

My parents were very strict. We were not allowed sleep-overs. We were not allowed to go to parties until we were 18.

By college, I became active with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was at church almost every day of the week. I attended a prayer group on Tuesday. I joined a Bible study on Wednesday. I attended youth group on Friday and Saturday. And I was in church on Sunday.

In 2004, I watched the movie, “Saving Face” starring Joan Chen, Lynn Chen and Michelle Krusiec. For the first time, I saw myself on screen. It was my first exposure to positive lesbian representation on film. I wish I had the courage to say the words, “妈妈，我爱你. 我也是gay.” In English, mama, I love you. I am also gay.” But I didn’t. I was too scared to have that conversation with my family or with anybody. I came out by not coming home one night. I totally regret not having
that conversation but I just didn’t know what to say or where to begin.

Things began to not go well for me after what I did.

My family got me connected with an ex-gay ministry affiliated with Exodus International. I was not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I was driven to Bible study with this group every week. My family started a Bible study at my home. When my family realized that Bible study and family discussions were going nowhere, my mom gave me an ultimatum – change now or leave the house. I was also told that if I left, I would be cut off from the family and disowned.

I chose to leave with my girlfriend at the time. My family hired a private detective and tracked me down. My parents said they wanted to talk to me. When I came to see talk to them at a hotel room, I felt trapped. I felt I was being interrogated and coerced to go the US and think about my actions. This went on for hours until I broke down and said yes. Within less than a week, I was on a plane to Florida. My parents made arrangements that I was going to stay with family there.

After 6 months, my relatives realized that after numerous discussions, things were going nowhere. I was given another ultimatum – change now or go back home. In my mind, I pictured my family was either going to lock me up/throw away the key or I was going to be forced to marry a guy.

Neither scenario was acceptable to me. I thought about what I was going to do. I realized that for me to stay in the US, I needed to give my parents an acceptable proposition. I went online and found that Exodus International had a live-in ministry/program in Wichita, KS. I figured since they want me to consider changing who I am, I think they should pay for my expenses.

I found myself in Wichita. I got accepted into the ministry. I regret my participation (about 5 years) with this organization. The people running the ministry may have good intentions. Perhaps they were concerned about the well-being of my soul. However, there was no social worker on staff or anyone with religious training in their background. I was not allowed to interact with anyone outside the ministry and the church. I was not allowed to listen to music that was not pre-approved. I was not allowed to watch any television that was not pre-approved. For about half a decade, I was asked to not question their authority and just receive their message.

It totally went against everything that I believed in. I always questioned things. This really threw me off for a loop. I feel like I am still suffering from the mind games of being in this program. I went from being comfortable in my own skin to having a complex about who I am.

My only saving grace during this time was Jennifer Knapp’s music. I discovered her music while I was in the program. Her lyrics are so honest and moved me to remain open to God. The song “Undo Me” is my favorite from her album.

Undo Me became my prayer for many years. I went from being comfortable in own skin and not having any issues with my sexuality to praying that God take this away from me. I know the only way to please my family is for God to change me. There is no way I can do it on my own.

Luckily, because my family distributed Christian music in the Philippines, I was able to get all her albums sent to me. Her music gave me life while in that program. Without it, I do not know if I would have survived those years.

When I finally left the program, I was angry at God. I became promiscuous. I stopped caring about my faith. I went on downward spiral for a few years. I put myself in situations that were not healthy or positive. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to me.

Two years prior to meeting my wife, I realized this was not the life I wanted for myself. I stopped going to bars. I stopped having casual sex. I made a promise to myself. I will only consider sharing an intimate moment with somebody who I can see myself being in a serious relationship with.
Luckily, a wonderful and beautiful woman came into my life. She is now my wifey. We have two pugs, a son and a great life together. I have never been happier.

When Adaline decided to help others who have suffered religious trauma, I was excited. I am on this very journey. I need help in this area.

However, religious trauma is painful. I have not opened the Bible since leaving the ex-gay ministry. However, amazing human beings out there like Adaline and Jennifer Knapp are giving me hope. Who knew that Wynonna Earp and the community of Earpers will grow into something beyond the show and the fandom?

I am completely estranged from my family. They think the only way I can be acceptable and welcomed into the family is if I marry a guy or stay single/embrace celibacy for the rest of my life. It hurts when we talk because they always ask me how I am doing as if I am unmarried. When I share information about my life they act like I didn’t say anything.

Being part of this community has been a great source of hope and healing for me. I feel so blessed and honored to have read all your stories. Thank you for sharing because you make me feel like I am not alone.

Honest liar to bisexual fire

It’s hard to say when I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ community. Coming out to myself and to everyone else, including family, was a slow process that took years. This was probably due to one, growing up in the 90’s/early 2000’s and two, growing up in the South (as in conservative Southern American States). I knew I was different from a young age, maybe around five or six years of age. I loved sports and loved playing with the boys at school, whether it be soccer, rugby or street hockey; even though female activities like playing with barbies and the color pink were encouraged. I remember being the only girl in fourth grade playing hockey with the boys. The guidance counselor, Mr. B, pulled me in his office one day and said that I could not play anymore. When I asked why, he said it was because I was a girl and it’s a boy’s activity. The boys did not want me to play with them (maybe because I was just as good, if not better).

Fast forward to middle and high school, we had moved to a very small town with around 90 people in my graduating class. I had mostly male friends, and a few good female friends. I struggled with my sexuality and tried to suppress thoughts and feelings. I was an anxious wreck (like most of us) at this age. I remember flipping through the few channels we had and stopping on an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, “Seeing Red”. I think this was probably my first sort of “awakening” to the LGBTQ community. I had never seen this show before, but I had heard of it. There were two females on TV and they were in bed together, kissing! My mind was blown 🙂 This was the late 90’s/early 00’s and we didn’t have smart phones or the queer representation you see in TV shows, tumblr, etc. that we have today. This kind of thing was sacreligious where I grew up (and still is for a lot of people). Needless to say I binge watched the show and fell in love. Willow and Tara’s relationship, and the acceptance among peers on the show, was the first of its kind on television and it was influential for so many people. Their relationship showed me that it’s okay to love someone of the same sex, and it’s hard to imagine this today, but that kind of acceptance just wasn’t part of the culture in which I was raised. I found the wonderful world of fanfiction and began to explore the LGBTQ community.

My parents raised me to be honest. I am a horrible liar and anyone who really knows me will know I am lying immediately. It’s something I value very much in myself and the people I surround myself with. The internal struggle to be honest with myself while also hiding an important piece of who I was from others was so exhausting. And I didn’t even realize what I was doing for years. I slowly began to accept myself in high school, after watching things like Buffy, Gia, etc. But there were setbacks. I was taunted and made fun of by my peers in school after slipping up and making a gay joke with one of my friends. The rumor I was a lesbian spread like wildfire and I vehemently denied it, hoping my parents would not find out. My mother found a few notes between my friends and I that were filled with immature/lewd jokes. One of those friends happened to be my best friend; a girl I had a bit of a crush on. We occasionally flirted and I could tell she liked me too, but nothing ever happened. When my mother read the notes between us, she sat me down and asked me if I was “gay or bi”. She was so upset that I was scared to be honest and denied it. My parents threatened to send me to a catholic school if I didn’t straighten up (pun intended haha). So, I withdrew that part of myself again, and it took several years to come to terms with who I truly was. Shame is a powerful thing. Especially when it is used to mold young, impressionable minds.

College was definitely a different experience. I could not wait to move on from the small-minded town/high school of my teenage years into a more open minded, accepting atmosphere. I moved out of my parent’s house as soon as I could (18 or 19) and started college. As I distanced myself from the judgmental, shameful environment in which I was raised I, again, slowly began to realize/accept who I was. I finished my Associates degree and decided to join the military in my early 20’s. This changed my life. I had preconceived about the military from things I had seen on television, but it was nothing like Hollywood portrayed (surprise). You trained hard and played hard as a family. The military was in front of a lot of the civilian population in social movements (and that was a legitimate surprise!). Acceptance of all races, ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations, etc. is drilled into you from day one. And it is a problem for some, but for most the struggle of military life brings you together, regardless of background and culture. The same year I joined was the same year the military repealed the “Don’t ask don’t tell” (DADT) act which was a policy implemented by the Clinton administration that barred discrimination/bullying to closeted homosexuals while banning openly gay people from serving. After the repeal of DADT, and several equal opportunity lawsuits, same-sex marriage and spouse benefits were eventually incorporated. Some states were definitely ahead of this act, however, the South struggled with these Obama administration policies.

At this point in my life, I had dated and been in a few long-term relationships with men (well more like boy-men :). But they all ended the same. The beginning was fun and exciting, then we would end up being more like good friends and I would end it. I was never interested in marriage and definitely could not see myself marrying a man. I was more comfortable in my own skin in my mid-20’s and began to identify as bi. I didn’t openly come out and tell people, but I didn’t deny my attraction to females either. As I progressed in my military career and traveled the world, I met so many people from different cultures. I don’t know any official statistics for the LGBTQ community in the military, but I have met SO many since I joined. This acceptance enabled me to explore my true self in a safe environment, and I will be forever grateful to the military for this. I don’t go home often, but when I do, I still feel uneasy and somewhat ashamed to be myself (something I am working on).

At 29 years old, I met the love of my life. Something I didn’t think existed. We met in a training program in the military and immediately hit it off. We became fast friends and shortly after realized it was way more than friendship. It felt like a tiny flame had burst into a raging fire inside me, and I had never been happier in my life. I had a few flings in college and after joining the military, but I had never been in a relationship with a woman. A lot of things were very new for me, but everything just felt right for the first time in my life. I knew this was it and I came out to my family, very slowly. I told my siblings, closest aunts and uncles, and my father and grandparents and they were all very supportive, to my surprise. I had great anxiety about coming out to the family, but it was all worth it for her. The last person I told was my mother, because I knew this would be the most difficult. But it turned out to be more difficult than I could imagine. She did not take the news well and does not accept our relationship, mostly due to religious reasons. It has taken a toll on our already strained relationship.

We were engaged on May 2019 and married at the beginning of this year. After training, we both went to our separate duty stations and have been separated for the better part of three years. One of the unfortunate things about a military career is the time sacrificed from loved ones. Due to COVID-19 and the restriction of military movement, we have remained separated. It has been the hardest three years of my life, but every second was worth our eventual reunion. One of the things we do to pass the time is binge watch television shows. We started watching Wynonna Earp last year after she came back from a six-month deployment. Waverly and Nicole’s relationship is such a beautiful relationship and we have loved watching the character developments. Growing up with almost zero LGBTQ representation in the media makes me appreciate a amazing shows like WE. Thank you Dom, Mel, Kat, Emily, Tim and the rest of the cast and crew for helping my wife and I get through these tough times!

Lesbian

I found out when I was 11 but I guess I always felt like I knew and the first person that I told was my best friend and she has supported me through it since, then I told my mom but she just told me that I was too young and I didn’t know anything but it’s been a couple of years and I’m still the same person I still like girls i just hope she allows me to be me once I tell her again I hope she supports me.

I hope my story hasn’t ended just yet.

Okay here it goes…I knew I was an LGBTQ2IA community member about 10 years ago when I stopped being in denial about my sexuality. It was exhausting coming up with excuses and thinking that I could fake love a guy if I found myself in a relationship with one. And I almost convinced myself into thinking that was an okay thing to do simply because I knew my mom wouldn’t approve of a gay daughter and most of all because it would make life easier. But something inside of me wouldn’t let go, I couldn’t imagine living happily with someone I didn’t truly or honestly could be in love with both emotionally and physically. I saw and still do to this day see how unhappy my mother is in her marriage and I cannot forcibly bring myself to live life similarly.

I did come out to one person, but she proved to not be trusting. I have not come out to my family. I know I won’t get a positive reaction from my mom. I love her to death, but she’s got this traditional way of seeing relationships that I simply don’t fit into and it hurts so much to know that she doesn’t have a problem letting someone go if they don’t retain similar interests with her. Sexuality is a big one and that has kept me in the closet. I cannot risk Losing shelter.

But life has been sad and maybe strange from an outsider’s perspective. I have so many years been my mom’s helping hand in everything from household duties ( cooking, cleaning, running errands, going to the market ) to renovation projects at home, and now in the past 8 years, at least, helping her with her with the same things, but now also helping her with her health, she’s been sick with some major illnesses and now she’s struggling physically – she is getting frail. I have literally never left her side which means I have never dated and never been in a relationship. I took online classes to acquire my higher education and it allowed me to help her while going to school too, but I never had the opportunity to explore my sexuality and to know what it feels like to intimate with someone.

God this feels so embarrassing because I don’t know if anyone can relate to my story.

It took a lot to say outloud to myself, one night lying in bed many years ago, that I am gay. It was so liberating to say because I could finally be honest to myself about my feelings. But I knew I couldn’t step out. Over the years it has eaten away at my mind so much, it is tiring and exhausting. I got into reading fanfiction last year and it has helped me cope a little with my situation. But I feel like I need something more. I recently turned 30 in March and I feel like time is running out. I want to know what it is like to love and to be loved. I hope it’s not selfish to think or feel this way when I have my mom that needs my help.

I recently have had the opportunity to apply for work at law enforcement agencies, police officer positions. I hope between all the stress here at home I will be able to get into the physical shape needed in order to get through the physical agility tests. I hope through this I can finally come out and not be fearful about it and hopefully find a girlfriend – a loving partner. I can only hope right?

I came across this website through a fanfiction writer’s tumblr. I learned about Dominique’s instagram which led me to her website. I have never shared my story with anyone, and doing so on this platform is nerve wracking, but in knowing that if one person can relate to my story it will make me feel a little better and it will mean the world to me that this one person can feel better too knowing their not alone.

Thank you for taking the time in reading my story and thank you Dominique for creating such a wonderful and genius website that allows for stories to be told. I was really moved by your coming out story and as a result it motivated me to share mine.