Community Rainbow Waves

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zo, Birmingham UK

Non binary who loves life

When I was in 8th grade I went to a Catholic school. Dating period wasn’t something that was talked about and was just kinda wrong. After a sleep over with some good friends I was cuddled by a best friend. Something in that moment made me feel something that no guy had ever made me feel. In the following weeks I noticed little things about this girl that sat next to me. It exploded from there. 2 months after this someone outed me. No one talked to me I became a social out cast in an extremely small school.

My dad loved me from the start. He’s supported me so much he’s taken me to pride events and I love him for it. He isn’t exactly okay with the idea of non binary people. He just says they want attention but I don’t feel okay telling him that I identify as that. He loves me but it’s part of my life that I have to hide from him. But despite what he thinks I know how I am.
I am a strong human being who loves art and baking and I couldn’t be more greatful for a place to share my story.

Samantha – Homoromantic Demisexual – She/Her/Hers

My story takes place in Texas, commonly known as one of the least open-minded states in the United States. My story is a long one, as my identity evolved drastically through time. I am blessed, however, to have grown up in a very loving and accepting family. I’ve known members of the LGBTQ2IA+ community my whole life, yet I never really considered it for myself until I was around 16. As a kid everyone would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up and I would stay silent because there’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted to be. Happy. At 16 I had no idea who I was and how could I be happy when I didn’t even know what or who I wanted in life. I honestly didn’t have much to go off of, I’d never had so much as a crush on anyone, regardless of gender. I credit much of my realization to the love I have for television. At 16 I would watch pairings like Clarke and Lexa from the 100 and it helped me to accept the fact that maybe I was gay. I say that like I was just like “Yep, I’m gay” but honestly I just felt like I needed to put a label on myself and although “gay” didn’t really feel like it fit who I was completely, I didn’t really know what else I could be. I could imagine myself in a relationship with a woman in a way that, to this day, I cannot imagine with a man. And honestly, the thought terrified me. Society can be cruel, as can my mind. I began to ask myself if the “unconditional” love my parents had for me was truly that, or if I would lose everything and everyone I love in one fell swoop by coming out. I mentally weighed the options countless times and basically began to prepare for the worst. Family and friends have always been the most important thing in my life and therefore, I decided that I if I could save my relationships by waiting for the “perfect moment” then that’s what I would do. Fear cost me a year of my life and I quickly learned that the perfect moment does not exist. So I decided to do what I do best, and write it down. See I’ve tried the in person coming out thing and call me a coward, but I am not built for the extra level of stress and anxiety it gave me. So a week after my 17th birthday, I came out to my parents as gay via college application. I don’t think I’ll ever forget holding my breath as they read over my shoulder, nor will I forget the silence that seemed to last forever before my mother sat next to me, turned towards me, and asked…”so you really never want to see men naked????” I laughed and the anxiety began to fade, even if the label wasn’t a perfect fit. I knew it was just the first step to coming out, but I had at least gotten through it alive. Though the inaccuracy of the label I had given myself still bothered me. That’s when I turned to research. So. Much. Research. Why didn’t I experience crushes the same way that other people did? Why did I not care at all about sex in a society that was seemingly obsessed with it? That same week I came across AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, and began to read. I cried. They were describing me. Until that moment I had never heard of asexuality, it was so far off my radar and I quickly learned just how far off everyone else’s radar it was too. Cut to 18 year old me entering college for the first time. At this point I had come out to my immediate family. Again. And a select few of my friends. I had also been told by various people that people like me “shouldn’t exist” or that it was just a phase I would grow out of. I learned how common it was for asexual people to feel broken or even inhuman. People often assume that due to our sexuality, we don’t have emotions or the capacity to love or be loved. A cruel assumption but one that still occasionally plagues my feeling of self-worth. Despite these social pressures however, I entered college wanting nothing more than to be out and proud in this new place with all these new people. For the most part I was, though I knew that for every acquaintance I told, there was a family member that should’ve heard it from me first. So once again, I wrote it down. At 19, I came out on instagram and the same week I mailed 7 coming out letters and just like that, I was out to the world. The most stressful week of my life freed me. I was able to finally live my life as the emotional burden began to lift. Never have I been prouder of myself than in that moment. The 3 year journey led me to finally feeling seen and comfortable with who I am. Flashing forward to my life now as a 20 year old, my journey continues towards self-love. And although the state of the world worries me, I can honestly say that sitting down with my parents during this quarantine and watching Wynonna Earp, I really feel, for the first time in a very long time, happy. #OutIsTheNewIn

Lesbian

When I was fourteen I came out to my mother after I’ve been pretty sure that I was gay for a year or so. But she reacted the total opposite way of what I was expecting… saying that “it’s just a phase and I was too young to know stuff like this, I just haven’t met the right boy yet.” And that I was “lucky she wasn’t goint to tell my father about it.” Skipping to 2019, as I finally had the guts to institutionolize myself into a psychiatry after almost ten years of major mental health issues, I tried to be brave once again and come out to my mother. She apologized for the way she reacted back then and fully supports me in every desicion I make in my new out and proud life. It’s partly thanks to you, Dominique, and all the other actors who represented the queer community during this tough period of my life, that I am still alive today and grateful for every day I have on this earth. <3

OneMoreDropInThisGorgousSea

Firstly pardon my english, I’m actually brasilian.
We all want answers. When we are kids almost EVERYTHING amazes us, and when we grow up, our questions gets more and more complex and complicated…

But Well… I KNOW Love is not one of them. I felt it before.

When It gets complicated, then it’s not love, cause Love transforms a messy knot into a beautifull colorfull line (like a rainbow haha)

Love is understandingfull. Love is kind. And love is not just a feeling itself… It is a way to see the world, and the lackness of it, in some moments, disconect us from the BEST within us.
If you don’t believe me just remember that everything we make with loving, end up beautifull, colorfull, organized (just look at the sky at night), sweet… like a gentle breeze sliding through every strand of hair…

Love is not only about ourselves, but about others too, cause we can donate from us this beautiful energy. By admiring someone, by giving importance to that person,
by touching and being touched by everything that ever happened to that person.
But also love is NOT the absence of pain! Love is a way of living that allow us to be STRONG when pain comes, and not being complainfull about it…
there is actually a spoiled side of us to think that EVERYTHING is ALWAYS destined to end up well… (and by “well” I meant the way we WANT it to end up) Cause It won’t. Which is good, cause pain help us grow. If pain make you feel more scared, then you’re not loving.
I KNOW everything has a purpose. Nature shows us EVERYTHING has a purpose. Sometimes we just don’t know what for.
I do care about LGBT comunity, cause it is important to talk about LOVE diversity. There is many many ways to get to this sea.

As I discovered those paths I realized few important things… You don’t NEED to change everything you are because you realized something new about yourself, but if you WANT TO, then so be it: Change!
But Change for better! Use comprehension, not hate. Otherwise isn’t it hipocrisy to fight hate and exclusion with hating and exclusion?
Does EVERYTHING has to evolve through pain? Does peace has to arrive through battle wounds? Can’t we just KNOW it by heart?
It doesn’t mean we should trust everyone, It is DUMB. It means we should always hope for the better of someone, as much as we hope for ourselves.
But remember… you are still you! With new improves haha. Don’t you EVER forget who you are. What you truly believe. What you really want. And most importantly don’t you ever forget about love. And if there is no love, then you shouldn’t content yourself with less!

And I guess that’s my flag. I don’t know, but ONE DAY, I’ll be strong enough to make people around me feel like this: powerfull, bold, strong, important, seen and happy.
I am nobody. But a nobody with a lot in my mind, I guess…

Aaaaand that’s how I came out.

Carolina, 20, just trying to find out who I am.

Since I was 15 years old I thought there was something wrong with me. I never had a boyfriend in my life and it always made me wonder if there was really anything wrong with me. All the people around me were getting into relationships and I was still alone, because no one interested me or was not attracted to anyone (especially boys, which was the idea of ​​what I liked at the time). I started to question if I really liked boys or if girls attracted me more, but by putting that idea in my mind I knew that there would be a lot of people talking about me and making jokes about it and then immediately exclude that idea from my head , forcing me to be attracted to boys or the idea of ​​being with boys.
When I was 18, there was a boy who became interested in me and I, convinced that I had to convince others around me that I liked boys, ended up being with him for a month without feeling anything. It was nothing more than a friendship, but I wanted to deceive myself.
I spent the worst 4 years of my life hiding the pain I felt at not knowing what was wrong with me or who I was. It was the worst years I’ve ever had. I was lost, aimless, without anyone.
When I was 19, when I went to college, I completely changed my group of friends and started to get along with a lot of people from the LGBT + community and from then on I started feeling confident to start discovering who I am and I started to feel a little happier. I think that realizing that those people would never exclude me if I liked girls, made me start to question who I really like. I started to open up by talking to some people and clearly that I was attracted to girls. But I also continued to be attracted to some boys. And it was then that I realized that I could be bisexual. It was a difficult year, with many ups and downs, to discover who I am. My family has always given me the opportunity to like whoever I want, nothing would change with them if I liked girls and that made my life easier.
Nowadays, I still don’t really know what I am. I like boys and girls and that’s for sure. But, deep down, I think I like people for what they are and not for their gender. Therefore, I consider myself a path to my happiness and I just let love speak for itself.
My next step will be to come out to everyone who likes me for who I am and then to come out to the world. And when I find a way to do it, I’m sure I’ll be much happier.

Fer

My first attraction to a woman was when I was 11 years old (2015) I didn’t really understand what was going on since I had heard something about that in my life since what my family believes and the way I was raised is that it is always a man and a woman so I thought that I had some flaw inside that made me feel very strong emotions towards someone that was not right. When I entered high school (2016) I had already heard and researched more things about the subject, on the one hand my family told me that the behavior of these people was unnatural and on the other hand the social networks began to ask for acceptance with the phrase ¨love is Love¨ which confused me more and more but one day on the program ¨supergirl’ Alex Danvers came out of the closet and I wished I was in his place, At that time I identified myself as a young bisexual woman, I began to watch programs like Wynonna Earp which is also one of the programs that has most marked my life from the way Waverly begins to accept her sexuality to her commitment to Nicole.
The first person I proposed to was my best friend and his reaction was better than I expected since he only told me that he supported me and then proceeded to ask me about her as if she was the most normal thing in the world and I loved that.
At my school I liked to talk to my classmates about it because sometimes my perspective and theirs helped us empathize with each other’s situations.
I hope that in a future there is no more the phrase ¨come from closet¨ and that all this is taken as something completely natural.

Bisexual

I was in high school and started to realise that I liked both girls and guys at that time I had a lot of homophobic, I wouldn’t say friends but I knew them and I hung around with them for a while so at first I didn’t want to come out because I was scared but then I found the right people and they were accepting so when I finally came out to them they were fully accepting and helped me come out to more of my friends who were also really accepting of me. So basically the thing that helped me was finding the right people to trust. And now if someone asks me about I can answer them without being scared because I know that no matter what I’ll always have the people who helped me in the first place.

QueerGay

So for the longest time I thought there was something wrong with me because I was attracted to women and my step dad didn’t support the LGBTQ community. I started having really bad anxiety and started feeling very depressed, I stop being myself. After almost a year, I started to learn more about the community and started to ignore other people’s opinions on the community. I started taking time and thinking about what really made me happy and what didn’t make me happy. I just wanted to be happy and be able to love who I wanted without being judged or even having to come out. After I discovered Wynonna Earp and saw Wayhaught is made me feel more comfortable with my sexuality. After reading Dom’s story it has helped me accept myself and now I am finally proud of who I am.

An Empowered Gay Woman

Coming out, for me, never really ends. I come out to new friends, to family, to coworkers, to the woman at the grocer who asks if I’m cooking for my boyfriend, to the stadium of people watching the “kiss cam” and to the man politely asking for my number at a crowded pub. Coming out is choosing to be honest, every day, and battling the fear of others’ responses.

I used to think that coming out was selfish, as if telling someone that I am attracted to women would only benefit me. It’s taken an immense amount of growth and education to believe in the power that standing together provides. Knowing the strength that I have now, I wish I had had faith in others sooner.

I grew up in a household that did not discuss sexuality in any form. We didn’t talk about relationships, or intimacy, and especially not about sex. Being the only girl, the gender expectations were enough to overwhelm me, let alone the differences I noticed in myself at a young age. My religious views told me homosexuality was a sin, and was best left unspoken.

When my friends began to develop crushes or dream of their perfect futures with a husband on a white ranch with kids and dogs, I failed to share that. I wasn’t sure what my future would hold, but I knew I didn’t want the same things. At 10 years old, I knew something about me was different.

When it came time to start dating, I once again felt no connection to the boys around me. I loved being around my friends, but I felt different from them. That scared the shit out of me. I thought: maybe I just didn’t understand. I had never been in love, never shared myself with someone, never had sex– so how did I know for sure?

And so I began dating my best friend. He made me laugh, was kind and generous, was adored by my family, and truly respected me. We made a great couple, and an even better team. For a while, I could forget my attraction towards women. Everyone was happy, and this life didn’t seem so bad.

My best friend knew me better than that, though. He sat down with me one day and asked if this was what I truly wanted. He said that I didn’t seem fulfilled, that if there was something I was missing in my life, I should go for it. It wasn’t until a year later and a few more attempts at heterosexual relationships that I finally understood.

The process was hard. I couldn’t state my sexuality in the mirror to myself, let alone to other people, and even less so to those who had known me my entire life. I spent hours crying to myself, journalling dreams that wouldn’t come true, and praying that I could be normal.

The problem with that was that I was normal. I am normal. Being queer does not make me abnormal.

I finally told a friend, and her acceptance encouraged more honesty. I needed a calm and quiet place for those closest to me, where I could tell my story and they could ask questions. I slowly began to feel more comfortable in my own skin, and began to rely on the support for this immensely powerful community. A community full of love and trust.

My family’s response is still difficult to handle today. They are scared for me, religiously and socially. I will always love them, but I take comfort in the encouragement I have received from others and hope one day they will share that same support.

Much like the rainbow that symbolizes the queer community, coming out can be an upward battle sometimes. There are times you may be scared shitless, and there are unfortunate times when people do not understand. But, there is growing education and knowledge to be supported and protected. With kindness, and with love, there will come a time when each person can love and be loved for who they are. And much more than there are negative responses, there are amazing and rewarding experiences, too.

Life surprises you.

The love of my life sits beside me, reading, hair a mess and glasses on, curled up under her favorite blanket and music in the background. I can look at her with no doubt in my mind that this is where I am meant to be. The discomfort and unrest that I felt as a child has settled.

I have found a home with a coalition of courageous, charitable, passionate people.

I am a gay woman.

I am out. I am proud. I stand by every human on their journey and hope that it is known how much they are loved.

I suppose my coming out story will never truly end. There will always be someone to tell, a situation that assumes I am straight. But I have faith that kindness prevails, and that each of us can be celebrated for our differences, rather than scared of them.

Each of us deserves love. And I can promise, if you give yourself to this community, they will give themselves to you, too.

Out Truly Is The New In.