Community Rainbow Waves

Truth

All of the coming out stories on this site encouraged me to write what follows and post it on my website and social media. Thank you to one and all for speaking their truth and in doing so, reminding me how important it is to own our truth and for me, stand publicly in my truth.

I have never officially come out of the closet. I also never sat my parents down to explain my sexuality. It never felt right to me, I would not explain having a boyfriend so why would I explain having a girlfriend. The idea felt degrading and separatist. I brought my girlfriend home from college and we slept in the same room. My parents have always been accepting and supportive and this was no different. Eventually conversations occurred with my parents and we all acknowledged my having a girlfriend in college and in high school it was boyfriends. That was it, and the love and support I expected and desired has always been there. With time and life experiences I recognize how blessed I have been to have such parents.

By my sophomore year at college I had a serious girlfriend. We were not out to everyone, but we were not hiding. We essentially lived together and hung out with mutual friends. College felt freeing to me, having grown up in a small town in Western Kansas where EVERYONE knew everything, or it seemed. Unfortunately, college was also my first experience where I discovered what it is like to be judged and attacked for my sexuality. I was outed by an instructor and several peers. The derisive gossip was meant to attack and shame me, to what end I do not know. Action taken, I assume, because I was different and that apparently made me a threat. Again, one of those people who outed me was a college instructor… The lesson I took was to become smaller and less of a threat, and it worked.

I became a professional horse trainer and riding instructor; a career path that is heavily dominated by men with women predominantly the clientele, a world built on traditional conservative values. In this role I had to be as tough as a man and as feminine as I could be in appearance to survive; I worked hard and found success and continued to hide in plain sight. My inner circle knew, I just did not blatantly flaunt my relationships in the workplace. However, on occasion, I experienced people finding out and attempting to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. They were never even my clients. Somehow, being a woman and loving a woman was a threat to some. I find it confusing, the horses never seemed bothered and my students grew their riding skills. Shouldn’t that be enough? Wasn’t that my job?

Over the last several decades I have been asked to go back into the closet surprisingly frequently. One such request was from a partner. For her, I embraced a much higher level of privacy and seclusion, embracing dishonesty about my truth. I justified it to myself for her benefit as she was struggling with her own sexuality, and I knew what it is like to be outed and attacked. This choice came at a cost. I slowly but surely chipped away at my own value and self-worth. When you add the shift in our culture toward more blatant violence being taken against the LGBTQ+ community, it is no wonder I find myself hesitating to come out of my cave and stand tall.

During this pandemic, I have had some extra time on my hands and have continued the process of self-discovery and awakening. In 2016 I had a health scare, a little bit of breast cancer, which started me on a path of embracing life at an elevated level. I have explored regrets, past relationships, work choices, friendships, the list goes on. Recently I have been addressing my sexuality in depth. It seems strange to do at 51… After my last breakup I tried to talk myself into being straight, didn’t work. I have sought a label to fit in, frankly because it seems easier to find community and answer questions. The truth is that I do not fit a specific label, I am not gay, straight or bisexual. I like men, but I truly prefer women. Like many, I have struggled with understanding the diverse array of labels I have come across and what they all mean. Finally, I have landed on the belief that they, much like me, are trying to find a simple way to describe and understand themselves and maybe find others who are similar. It is hard to find community and mentors if you cannot describe yourself or see yourself in others. Visibility matters. Voice matters. Being acknowledged matters. Being seen, really seen matters.

Today I am choosing to officially come out of the closet. I am guessing the closest I will get to a label is calling myself queer, but I still do not prefer labels… I am so much more than this one word. I am a woman, driven, a leader, compassionate, an empath, a warrior, a facilitator, a healer, a horse trainer, a people trainer and coach, an aunt, a daughter, a professor, a humorist, an author, a story teller, a nature lover, a dog mom, a dancer…. and I am queer. I must speak my truth and be fully congruent. If I am not congruent, I am not whole. I deserve to live an entirely whole life embodying my full truth. I am most at ease and entirely in my power when I am my truth. I want to be the mentor for that person who feels alone and know it is possible to be fully embodied and live your truth. Self-acceptance gifts us with self-confidence, which empowers us. The job or client I do not get because of this statement, I do not want. No more tainted money. I am a better facilitator, teacher, trainer and human being because of who I am and what I have experienced in my life. I deserve to give you the best of me and you deserve to receive my best. That means I must stand fully in MY power.

I am here and I am reaching my hand out. To my cousin – I am sorry I did not know you, did not know that you were suddenly a teenager forced to survive life and the streets because of who you are. I am so grateful to know you today, to love you and count you as my family. I do not want to fail another. To those who simply need to know they are not alone, I am here with you. I stand beside you and see your light. To those who need a hand, I am here and will steady the ladder. To those who need to be witnessed or heard, my eyes and ears are open. May we all as a community, young and not so young, stand together and raise our voices. May we rise and be the mentors we dreamed of to create a better world for us all; every shade of the rainbow deserves to be seen and honored.

Cathy

Anne , Brasil

At 10, I discovered that there was something different, I realized that I was attracted to a girl who studied with me for a few years. But I was always afraid to expose myself by the judgment of the people around me, most of the time the family says that they accept you, but when we assume who we really are, there is a certain judgment, which is a very sad thing, because they they are always represented by harsh words that I will never forget. At 16, I met a woman who fell in love from the moment I saw her, at 18 I told my parents as a lesbian, and it was terrible. I married this incredible person, who helped me, as well as his family, to be someone better and not be afraid of anything. Today we are no longer together, I still have some fears, because my parents still think it was just a phase, just a long phase of 8 years ne! I continue to work with them and show that it was not a phase, and I am proud to show and raise the flag, and I know that nobody and nothing will silence me anymore. thanks for the opportunity to tell my story.

Lesbian

I first knew I wasn’t the ‘same’ as everyone else when at the ripe age of 5 I asked my mum if she had ever gone out with girls as well as boys. She said no and I was slightly confused because I knew as a girl I should be attracted to boys but I wasn’t. I first came out to friends as bisexual at 12 and most of them didn’t mind but I faced a lot of weird comments and lost a lot of friends as I came from a very small area of Scotland that’s full of close minded individuals. I was dating a boy at 13 and we went out for almost a year and a half. I also told him that I was bisexual and he didn’t care at first. But he started to take advantage of this fact and told me that if I wanted I could experiment with girls only if he could join in etc etc, it was unhealthy. I left the relationship but have met more people like him that when they hear I’m LGBT+ instantly become creepy, try to take advantage, think they are able to say vulgar things and verbally abuse you when you turn down sexual advances, a real issue not many people speak about in the community. It was only a little under a year ago I came to the realisation I wasn’t at all bisexual and rather was in fact lesbian. Having to re-come out to people I’d already told I was bisexual was an odd experience, gladly no one bat an eye and everything’s been normal. I’ve not yet come out to family as I’m unsure of their perspectives and in the house I’m living in don’t feel safe to do so yet. I have moved out (although am back home due to lockdown and covid-19) and am currently attending university in a different region, everyone I’ve met I have been confident enough to tell them who I am and that I like girls and everyone’s been supportive. Coming to terms with who I am has been and will be a journey that I am constantly learning from. From having no representation ahead of me on TV, or knowing anyone who was part of the LGBT+ community for almost 16-17 years of my life was lonely and isolating. Today I’m surrounded by people who are just like me and support me, I’ve found representation in the media and I’ve learned to love and accept myself. The next chapter of this part of my life is hoping my family will do the same.

Lesbian

I knew when I was 10, I think, I first thought I was bisexual, but two years later I found out that I was gay. I came out to my friends way sooner then my parents. I came out to my parents in the end of 2018, when the president of my country was elected. I cried so much and told them that I was crying because I am not straight (he’s a sexist homophobic man). I’m not out to my whole family, just a few relatives, and now that I have a girlfriend I want to come out, but I’m really scared. Oh! By the way, I’m 13, turning 14 in August.

Trying to be kind

Maybe when I’m 12 or 13. I used to like to chatting with girls. I used to have strong feelings. And then I know, it is love.
I got caught by my parents. And they were so dissapointed with me. Thats makes me so sad. But, I need to accept that. Cause the country where I live now, still cant accept LGBTQ.
So, I still hide it until now.
I adore you so much with your work, with your passion, with your kindness. Do more for other. There will be a lot of ppl out there that need to be encourage.

Lesbian

Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.

No Labels, Just Love

As a young child, I was kind fascinated by lesbian relationships on tv; Bad Girls (UK), All Saints (Aus), The L Word (USA) etc. etc., but this was all on the downlow. I’d watch the shows with little to no interest during the day and devour fanfiction stories about them by night. I had some instances of “experimentation” with a friend or two, but that didn’t mean what I thought it meant, did it? I went to secondary school, had no boyfriends, stuck with my fanfiction, and found “hot male celebrities” to “have a crush on” to balance the “girl crushes” I had. In my mind, I was totally chill with this me who ~has crushes on men and women~, but in person? I didn’t talk about it with anyone; I was scared because I didn’t want to hurt people, upset them, lose them.

In year 10 (UK age 14/15), my social circle expanded and grew to include a girl my best friend had met in another class, L. She and I quickly became close friends and it was great, until I heard that L and her childhood best friend had ‘messed around together’. Here my brain was like “wowww, another non-straight girl like me!”. I became slightly obsessed, I’ll admit. L was my best friend but she’d flirt with me; call me sexy specs while having a boyfriend, snuggle up with me then go and see him. I thought I was in love with her. I eventually grew a pair, picked my self respect up off the floor and walked away from that hot mess.
After a while, I met a guy friend at work and we became really close, like brother and sister. One night we were chatting and he came out to me as bi, so I did the same back. It fit at the time, but it was also the easy way out; it was a label and not a label. He helped me to be open about not being straight in a way I’d never been able to before and I’m still so grateful for that. We eventually found Tumblr and it gave us a place to “be honest in a sea of strangers”; it changed my life, quite literally.

On Tumblr, I met a girl. This girl became my friend, then my best friend, then so much more. She was like nothing I’d ever met before, made me feel things in technicolour and UV. She taught me it was okay to be me, to be different, to be honest and feel the things I felt. She was the reason I came out, the reason I wanted to come out. The day we met in London, I left my mum a letter explaining about me, about us, and that I had made arrangements for somewhere else to stay if she wasn’t okay with me any more. Half an hour away from London on the train I received a text from my mum telling me that we were okay, she was okay, and that she loved me. That was now eight years ago, and that girl is currently sitting next to me on our sofa, in our home, the day after our eighth anniversary.

Coming out is something I do every time I meet someone new, but it doesn’t have to be a huge declaration. I used to be petrified about it; my heart rate would spike, I’d get sweaty palms, I’d be all stuttery and lame about it. But now? “Yeah, I live with my girlfriend.” “Me and my girlfriend went there”. “I went to visit my mum with my girlfriend”. The other day, I was asked at work if I was a gay woman (due to my rainbow lanyard, not out of the blue!). Even a year or two ago, that question would have sent me into a panic. But this day, I held my head up, kept eye contact and said “yeah, I am”.

I still don’t really like labels or definitions but: I am a woman in love with another woman and that is okay.

I identify myself as Bisexual

Hi, my name is Melissa, I’m 19 years old and two years ago I came out as bisexual.
This coming out was a long and tough journey….. 6 years and it’s not finished yet.
Since I became sexually aware, I think I always had a part of myself that liked girls, in addition to boys, but I was really confused about it.
Because, when I was a young teenager, I thought that there were only two different sexualities: straight or gay. But I didn’t fit in those two sexualities.
So for a couples of years I was in total denial of this part of me that was attracted to girls and I focused on boys only. But I wasn’t happy at all, it’s like a part of me was missing and I wasn’t truly and entirely myself.
And I think that bisexual characters from the series that I watch helped me soooo much to find who I am. Like for example, Calliope Torres from Grey’s anatomy and of course Waverly Earp. They are the two characters who helped me to understand what was happening with me and to accept it.
There was no problem with me, no I am not weird or broken: I am just Bisexual and it’s normal, it’s okay.
It took me a year to accept this and it was a real source of anxiety. At the beginning of high school, I started to have panic attacks about it, I was crying all the time and didn’t sleep at night: because I was scared about judgment, scared to be rejected by my family and friends because I am « different » from them and also because I wasn’t really myself with them and it became more like a burden to keep this part of me hidden.
So I told my best friend first, I burst into tears as if it was bad news or something serious. And the first thing she did: she hugged me really tight and told me that it wasn’t a problem, she’ll love me and support me no matter what. And at this time, I understand I wasn’t supposed to be ashamed about it with my friends.
In senior year, I fell in love with a girl. This girl confessed to me that she’s bisexual and she seemed really open about it, no complex, nothing…. I confessed to her that I was Bi too because for the first time I wasn’t scared to be judged because she was like me. Anyway, we had a really strong connexion and something was happening between us. It kinda pushed me to come out to all of my friends and also my parents (brruuhh, the toughest part).
My friends totally accepted it even if they were disappointed that it took me so long to tell them but I think that I just needed to be fully ready and it was something I had to work on.
Then for my parents, I decided to write a letter because I was not capable of telling them face to face. I put the letter on the stairs before going to school and had written that they raised me with an open mind, communication and understanding. I said that I was into all humans, I don’t care about gender, I just want to love freely so I identify myself as Bisexual but I hadn’t changed. I was, I am and I always will be the same person.
Their first reaction: they didn’t reject me and they still loved me: yay
But then I had to talk about this letter. And guess what? They didn’t believe me…And I started to doubt myself…again, and all my confidence collapsed.
During this time of doubt, I really found myself in music. It was a way to escape and forget all my fears. I started writing songs and playing different instruments. And music became my best friend, a part of me and it saved me.
A couple of months later I went to my first pride and I think it was one of the most beautiful day of my life. I felt like I was at the right place, where I felt myself, truly and entirely, for the first time ever and GOSH it was so good and liberating. Everyone was so incredible, open minded and supportive. This day I saw my true colors and I saw that those colors were beautiful. I think this day changed my life forever because I finally found this wonderful community and I made friends and I didn’t felt lonely anymore. It helps me so much to accept myself and be less scared of judgment.
Today, two years later, my parents still didn’t believe me and still think that you can only be gay or straight, and don’t understand all the different sexualities in the middle. So they still don’t accept me yet. My father seems more open minded than my mother on that. It’s been really difficult with my mother because she is full of prejudices. So we have had kind of a hard time but I know that someday they’ll accept it and I know that it can take a long long time, but i’ll try to be patient.
My brothers and my cousins were really open minded about it and accepted me immediately.
And,for the rest of my family, I am not out and I don’t know if I will be one day because both sides of my family have strong religious principles from two different religions and I don’t know how they will react, so I am not ready.
Oh and recently, I learned that the international day of Bisexuality is on the 23rd of September and guess what? It’s my birthday! Coincidence? I don’t think so.
I think that each coming out story is unique, because everyone is unique in their own way and have their own story and each story is as beautiful as the others.
No matter what we’ve been through, no matter who we love and whether we’re out or not: LOVE IS LOVE. You’re valid, you’re not alone, you’re beautiful just the way you are. Show your true colors and you’ll shine brighter than the sun.
« Your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow ».

On my way, hoping to get there soon…

I guess I always knew way back when I was a kid, but I had no idea what it was and why I felt that way. I just wasn’t what was deemed “normal”. I started acknowledging it for myself as I was going through adolescence and all throughout college and then sort of embraced it after graduation. But to be honest, I still don’t feel safe or free – as I wish I could be – to declare my truth. To some I am able to tell them, while to most I keep quiet… either way, I am never without fear of being rejected or seen differently, like I become a different person from the one they’ve come to know as soon as I confirm what they probably already thought. I still fear that I will never be taken seriously professionally or deserving of the same respect as a person just because of who I am. I am still afraid but I am also hopeful that one day, I’d get there – where I am free to just be me and no longer afraid.

Christine

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.