Community Rainbow Waves

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

Lesbian

I realized I was a lesbian when I was a mere twelve years old. It wasn’t a huge moment. I remember sitting on the couch and suddenly thinking “I like girls”. I’ve been lucky enough to grow up in an environment where being LGBT is accepted. My parents are accepting, my friends are accepting, and my community is accepting. My story isn’t dramatic, but it’s a piece of me.

Kimberly, Cisgender, Lesbian, she/her

I first realized I might be gay when I was in middle school, though it was not something I was ready to accept. I have always been a tomboy, and was very aware of gender growing up. While I had an incredibly supportive family and felt that I could live my life without limiting myself to what society had dictated someone of my gender should do, there were times when it was incredibly stressful. I avoided using public restrooms for fear of someone thinking I was a boy and trying to kick me out, I hated when activities were separated based on gender and even lost a friend because he thought I was a boy until we were separated in an activity, and I had another friend tell me he wouldn’t believe I was a girl until I had boobs. Despite all of this, I never changed how I dressed or the activities I was involved in until I thought I might be gay. I felt I was different enough as it was, I did not want to add the stress of being gay on top of everything else. My greatest fear through high school and college was that someone would think I was gay and I wouldn’t be able to deny it. I successfully avoided any formal events in middle school, but in high school I started wearing dresses for the first time since my parents dressed me as a very young kid. I avoided any physical contact with women and didn’t allow myself to get too close to any woman for fear of developing serious feelings I couldn’t deny. In the moment, I didn’t think too much about it, but reflecting back, it was pretty horrible. This lasted until my senior year in college, when my best friend started breaking down all of my barriers. She started hugging me, holding my hand, and cuddling, and for the first time I realized how touch starved I had been. This was great, but also super confusing. I had never had a super close friend or a partner and I did not know how to interpret my feelings for her. She was also in a relationship with a man and was pretty vocal about being straight. Eventually I just had to accept that I had fallen in love with her, and this helped me to start on my journey to accepting my sexuality. It was not until the next year, after we had moved in together and had been living with each other for a couple of months, that I finally felt ready to come out. I told my family first, and they were amazing, and then I told my best friend, who was also amazing. I thought that after I came out, everything would just fall into place, which did not happen. It has been almost 2 years since I came out, and I have struggled a lot. I spent the majority of my life trying to convince myself I wasn’t gay and the deep sense of shame, fear, and anxiety that I had been living with doesn’t just disappear. But I have also grown a lot in those two years. The shame, fear, and anxiety don’t rear their heads as much anymore, and I am starting to get to a point where I can actually have pride in who I am. I even told my best friend that the reason I came out was that I had fallen in love with her, which is something I had been hiding for so long and was a huge relief when I finally released it. There is still room to grow, but I am incredibly happy with where I am now, and for the first time in my life I feel like I can love who I truly am.

I am still unsure about this part. Still figuring it all out! All I know is that I am not straight.

I think there had always been a little niggle in my mind, something that told me perhaps I was different. I had crushes on guys when I was a teenager, but I think a part of me was always drawn to girls. I briefly wondered whilst at university, when I had a so-called ‘girl crush’ on a member of my cricket team, but someone explained it away by saying that all girls had them at times and it didn’t mean anything romantic. Over the years, I’ve had guys express an interest in me and even ask me out, but I always felt awkward and embarrassed, and ended up not speaking to them again. I just thought it was because I didn’t feel the same way, that I wasn’t attracted to them in return.

So, I dismissed it. Until it starting happening more often over the years. I found myself drawn to women – in real life, on TV, in films – more often than not. Yet it wasn’t until a few months ago, at the age of 32, that I seriously started questioning it. It was whilst living abroad, alone, away from my family and friends in the UK, that I started to think about it – consciously – and had nobody to really speak to. I had never had any friends who were part of the LGBTQ+ community growing up, and nobody ever really spoke about it. It wasn’t until I watched three separate TV shows (Glee, Atypical, then finally Wynonna Earp) in the space of a few months that I realised that I definitely wasn’t straight. Wynonna Earp, in particular, helped me come to that realisation and consolidated what I had begun to suspect, and I will be forever grateful that I discovered the show when I did, to the writers, directors, and cast for their genuine portrayals of the characters and the way this helped me figure out the truth after so many years.

I eventually broached the idea with my dad and a friend when I went back home for another friend’s wedding in February, but it wasn’t until last week (May, 2020) that I finally told my parents over the phone that I was almost certain that I was gay. And they were so supportive, said that they just wanted me to be happy, and they had always been worried that I would be alone forever given my apparent disinterest in dating guys. It didn’t matter to them with whom I found that happiness. And, really, nobody was surprised. Perhaps they knew all along and it just took me longer to figure out…

A part of me will always look back over the years and regret not finding myself earlier. But then I think I can finally look to the future and find my happiness, wherever it may lay and with whomever it may be. My dad has always said things work out the way they are meant to in the end, and I’m beginning to believe that may be true.

Take time to love yourself. Remember that. Always.

Well, time that i’ve felt that I am “different” for some, is pretty much equal to my age. And I am 27 years old. Growing up as a girl in small village where all my playmates were boys mostly my age and a bit older – it was hard. I used to look like a little boy for some time before I went to school, but a lot of kids gets their gender mixed up, right?
My parents, who actually are homophobic, used to “joke” around and asked me if I am going to marry a girl or a boy. I remember that I really-really hated that “joke”. Because I was really confused. Mostly because the equality. Boys always got awesome toys, they were allowed to go play whereever they want whenever they want, they were allowed to choose which girl they like, are they going to marry “love of their life” and who they are going to be when they grow up. I wanted those thing. Not to be boy, but to be equal. To choose my own path.
Today, I am single, I have no children. By my own choice. And I live in a place where people around me find that “my choice” is wierd and wrong. Because “standard” is marriage, kids and lower salary for same jobs that men have. “No boyfriend and with short hair -must be a lesbian” I hear people say…
But am I bi/gay/queer? Today I am human. I like other humans. I have felt and still feel love and attraction towards both men and women. If others find that it means that I have a label attached somewhere that says “bi”, then it is okay.
I have made my peace with it now. But it took me solid 25 years to make peace with .. myself. But to we really need to label eachother anything else but “human”?
I am open to love whatever shape or size it will arrive in my life. Maybe “it” is already here with me.
So, I came out to myself. I am human. No coming-out-party or post in social media, just me, on my own in my happy place. Accepting me.
Have I told my family and friends that I like /love both men and women?
Not to my family, because they figured it out before I did, right? (You know, “who you’re going to marry and stuff…) But I have never really had “the talk” or talked about my partners. Big family events – I have always attended alone. And since they are mostly homophobic, I do not feel the need to feed their hate. They are dear to me, but they don’t understand that love and attraction is between humans, not between genders. And that there is no “right” and “wrong” in love – we love our friends, families, pets, followers, fans… our partners in life. So I’m a “little rebel” in my family.
My closest friends know that I am open to love in any shape and size. I chose to tell them because they matter. Today they are my chosen family.
“Be who you are and say what you mean, because those who mind, do not matter and those who matter, do not mind” – I had that quote on my wall for years. (But I don’t know by who it is originally). It really helped me to accept myself.
I hope that there will be a time when girls and boys at all ages can say to their friends and families that they have found love of their life – same sex or not – and not be judged, or hated, or bullied, or even physically hurt, because believe it or not, making peace with yourself is challenging enough in todays society. And by hurting a human being, who is already struggling – it breaks and kills beautiful souls. Be kind. Start The Wave.

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

BeKindNomad – Jude

While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.

Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.

From Fear to Pride

According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.

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.

“getting hit on by both genders is such a champagne problem”

I know I was different say special, was when I was 10 yrs old. I was brought up by my parents as Catholic and we usually go to church every Sunday. There was this one nervous moment of my life that I would never forget, where we usually hold hands to whoever is next to us when we sing this song in church and there this one girl who’s next to me. I don’t know how I exactly felt that moment but I was really nervous to hold her hand. My father was telling me to just grabbed her hand but I didn’t until the song was over. He asked me why did I do that and I just smile at him and said I don’t know. What I really felt that moment was this weird feeling. It’s like what I see on TV when the two leading characters feel in love with each other. I know the girl bc i went to the same school with her in elementary. She was few years older than me, I always admire her for her beauty and kindness towards other people at school. I couldn’t ask anyone what this feeling is called, I was to afraid to even asked my parents so I kept it all inside. Growing up I thought I would just forgot all about it. Then I went to highschool where I saw a lot of pretty girls and maybe some cute boys too. It makes me more confused about my sexual identify. Around 2009 when I saw Glee and i really find the show really amusing with all the singing and dancing but also bc the characters of the show where in highschool. I was hooked by Santana’s character and I can really see myself on her. The scene with her Abuela where she came out to her also terrified me. What if my parents don’t accept me too? I also live in a country where there’s a lot of discrimination towards lgbt community. Sad to say at the age of 25 I’m still in fear of showing my true self to my family and to the world, I really doesn’t have the courage to do it. Maybe when I turn 50 or something, maybe when my parents are old and gray they won’t mind. I’m hoping one day I can do it bc actually it’s giving me a lot of anxiety. Right now I’m spending my free time watching shows with queer characters to give me hope that someday I can be those characters too. P.s I watch ur show Wynonna Earp and Waverly is my fave. Not out yet, but will get there hehe. Love to all the queers out there. Xx. -J.A.