Community Rainbow Waves

Sayde

I was in a “secret” relationship with my best friend. It started out great, but soon the stress of keeping the secret and not wanting to admit that what we had was “real” started to eat away at me. After a roller coaster of a year, and a full on depressive spiral, we finally ended things for good. After this, I made a point of going out and making new friends and a new me. Though it wasn’t easy, I started to embrace my queerness and eventually felt comfortable in my own skin. I didn’t come out to my family officially until I met my now-wife, though it was more because I never wanted to discuss ANY relationship with them and not out of fear for their reaction. I was lucky enough that once I felt comfortable in myself, I found a supportive community that helped me grow and become queer woman I am today.

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

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

I’m living my true self!

When I was around the age of 8/9 I started to noticing that there was something ‘off’ with me. The girls in my class were talking about boys and I wasn’t interested in that. So I was playing soccer and digging in the dirt with the boys. I wasn’t wearing the cute dresses my twin sister liked to wear. I liked wearing the T-shirts and shorts of my older brother. I remember when my mom would put me in a dress I would literally cry. And when my older sisters started dating boys they would tell me “wait until you’re our age. Then you will start to like boys.” I would just say ” okay” , because I thought I didn’t reached the age yet to start liking boys. But deep down I knew there was something different.
When I was around the age of 10/11 I started noticing girls. I started noticing that I liked them…. A lot. I liked them the way other girls liked boys. And that really confused me. I didn’t know what to do with those feelings so I buried them deep down. I didn’t want to deal with them and I definitely didn’t wanted to talk about them. So when anybody asked me if I had a crush or boyfriend or anything I just said I didn’t had time for it. I was to busy playing soccer and school and everything but ‘a boyfriend.’
I buried those feelings so deep that it really changed me in a not so good way. Specially between the age of 13 and 16. I had anxieties and I was depressed. I didn’t let anyone in. At school I only had 2 close friends and even with them I would hide my feelings. I would hide them by being funny and making jokes. I was being the clown of the class so people would laugh. And if they would laugh I was happy. At least I thought I was. But deep down I was destroying myself. The negative thoughts were overtaking my positive thoughts. I was getting even more anxieties. So I started to hide myself. When I was at home I always was in my room. I didn’t come out until diner. And after I would go back. And obviously my parents started to noticing that there was something wrong. My mom had an idea of what it might would be, but she never asked me. So she started dropping hints. If we were sitting at the dinner table playing a game and everyone was there she would say that it would be okay if one of us was gay. Or if we were sitting in the car on the way to school she would say that everyone is allowed to be who he/she wants to be. And from that moment I knew my parents would be okay with it. But I still wasn’t okay with it and that made me even more confused and angry.
I didn’t talk to anyone until I met this girl at my soccer team. She just joined my team and we immediately had a connection. We were really good friends (still are). she was the first person who I told I was gay. The moment I told her I was super scared. Not because of her reaction, because she’s gay to, but I was scared of myself. Scared of once I told anyone I couldn’t go back. But I did it anyway and I knew she would help me to get trough this. And she did. I could always go to her to talk and let all my feelings out. Because of that I didn’t had as many anxieties as before. But I definitely still didn’t feel 100% myself.
It took me a while to tell other people. To tell my other friends and family. Because I still wasn’t okay with being ‘different’. I cared about what other people would think of me. what they were saying behind my back. And I was sick of being in an environment where everyone knows each other and talks about each other. I wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew me so after I turned 19 I decided to go to Australia for a year. And that was the best decision I’ve ever made. In that year I truly found myself and accepted myself as who I was. I made choices I’d never thought I could’ve made if I stayed in that toxic environment. I made some amazing friends who also helped me to get where I am today. And in that year I told my best friend and one of my older sisters I was gay.
When I came back it still took me a while to tell the rest of my family. But when I moved out of my parents home and was starting a new chapter in my life I knew it was time. So I started with my twin sister. I just Facetimed her and told her and she was like: “okay cool! I’m happy for you! What are you having for dinner?”. Then my parents. I was to scared to tell them to their face even though I knew they would totally be okay with it. So I wrote them a letter. I put it in the mailbox so they would read it the morning after. The next day my mom called me at 5.30 AM to say that they still love me and that they knew all along. I Facetimed my brother and others sister to tell them and they had the same reaction as the rest of the family. Only positive and I couldn’t ask for anything else. I’m lucky enough to have such a supportive family and I’m forever grateful for that.
Now I’m 21 years old and I’m enjoying life by not giving a damn about what other people think. I’m enjoying the people around me by choosing them who have a good influence on me. I make good decisions. I try to be positive every single day. And most importantly, I’m living my true self.

XOXO Lisa

#OutisTheNewIn

I identify myself as a lesbian

I came out as a lesbian to my mom when I was 13, she took it well at the beginning but she didn’t want me to tell other people and she wasn’t friendly to the idea of having a lesbian child, She didn’t want me to wear rainbows or other stuff that could let people think I was lgbt I disagreed and still told my friends and family (except my grandparents) and was finally accepting myself for who I am.

Enjoying the journey – bisexual, she/her

I was 26 years old when I finally realized I was attracted to women. Looking back, I have absolutely no idea how I missed it before. I grew up in the southern United States where the idea of being gay isn’t well received. I was raised in the Mormon religion and being gay definitely didn’t align with those teachings so I think my brain worked overtime to justify my attractions as anything other than what they really were. So instead of just growing up thinking I was into guys and girls- I thought I was weird. I remember in high school I had a crush on one of the college girls who volunteered as one of my soccer coaches. She borrowed my hoodie once during a game and I didn’t want to wash it because it smelled like her. But instead of realizing (and enjoying) my crush, I felt like a creep. I would like to say that once I finally realized I was bisexual that it was liberating and exciting, it was actually scary. I didn’t know how to reconcile my religion with my sexuality. The thought of telling anyone and especially my family terrified me. I didn’t want to be judged or viewed differently. I spent a lot of time wishing we lived in a different world. Love should be celebrated in all of its forms and if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s loving people. It took a few years of me slowly coming out to close friends before I finally hit a point of not only acceptance of who I am, but also excitement and pride. I still haven’t come out to my family. I know that their religious beliefs will make it difficult for them and I’m waiting a bit longer to spare their feelings. But in the meantime, I’m learning to honor who I am and be as authentic as possible. I still have plenty of learning and growing to do on my journey, but I’m becoming less fearful and more excited about the future.

Gayer than a fruit loop, but too young to love.

I first started questioning my sexuality when I was 11. My grandma had just passed and I was severely depressed. I realised that I liked dressing more masculine, and in what I know see was a way too hide that I was gay, I decided that I was probably trans. I started going by the name Sam and started wanting to cut my hair. I even tried to bind my chest (in very unsafe ways) and I thought that I was depressed because I had gender dysphoria. After about a year I realised that I was just really fucking gay. So, I decided to lived my truth in a very homophobic school and it was the best choice I ever made.

I started coming out at twelve by mentioning it slightly in conversations, mostly by denying attraction to boys rather than admitting my love for women.

This year i turned 15 and after two gay relationships and after being out for three years Im still uncomfortable with my sexuality. I hate to say it and I wish it wasn’t like that, but my class mates and and the society we live in has pushed the ‘predatory lesbian’ stereotype on me for so long that it’s hard to forget.

I’ve recently decided that I will try to wear my pride bracelet in a way of showing who I am with out having to say something. And most importantly it serves as a small reminder for me that, no matter what my classmates say, being gay is 100% okay and that I’m so fucking proud of being a part of this community.

Remy

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

I live in a country where homosexuality is punished by law – up to 20 years in jail and whipping. The government and religious bodies here are against the ‘lifestyle’ and want to ’guide people to the right path’. I have seen a member of my family spit at an interracial straight couple. My best friend is of mixed parentage, and I have received so much pushback from my family to stop being her friend because of this reason. I come from a homophobic, racist, narrow-minded family. And my mother abused me growing up – physically, emotionally and mentally. I also come from a minority racial group, where in my country we are second class citizens. We do not have equal rights, this is the law. Imagine all that and going through a sexuality crisis at school all by my lonesome.

My life was very sheltered. My mother had her own values that I didn’t agree with. She would call me useless, unwanted, heartless, ungrateful and a pariah everyday. For no reason, or a very small mistake like not completing a chore before she got back home from work, she would make me squat outside the house in the dark facing the wall for hours not knowing if snakes, scorpions, spiders, centipedes, rats or cockroaches were approaching me from behind. For hours. And over a span of years, this went on. If I opened my mouth to protest, I would get a caning, and still had to do the punishment.

I became a loner. I didn’t talk much. I tried to stay away from home as long as I possibly could. I would give excuses like I had extra classes or after school activities. During these times, I would take walks and sit by the paddy fields across the road from the house. Just thinking. Because on top of all these things going on in my head of being just a complete useless person, I was also dealing with my sexuality. I didn’t have a sense of there even being such a thing as lesbian or bisexual. I’ve never heard of these things, coming from a fishing village. In the small amount of time in a week that I did watch television, there was no representation of such things. And there was no Internet back then. Therefore there was no awareness.

So when I started developing crushes for other girls, I felt like I was doing something so wrong. I felt dirty and guilty and shameful of myself. But I couldn’t stop these feelings. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t talk to my parents. Not even my dad because he was too afraid of my mother to say anything to me. I certainly couldn’t talk to my school friends. They were an immature bunch of kids who just wanted to talk about fun things like the latest pop music or television show. I don’t blame them, they were happy kids from happy households. Our priorities were different.

Things got a little bit better when I started college. My parents moved to the town where my college was in. So I continued living with them. This is the culture in my country. Kids don’t move away from their parents at 18, we stay together as long as possible. Therein lies my problem. Because until today I have to take care of my still abusive mother who is now 81 and immobile. I have put aside my life for her, but that’s a different story. In college, I had access to the Internet, and with that came the awareness of the LGBT community. I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I didn’t feel like I was wrong. And I started a relationship with a girl I have been crushing on for a while (turns out she had been crushing on me too). We were together for about 4 years, in secret, until her parents got her married off to a man and they moved to a different country. It broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes to the awesomeness of being in a relationship with someone you love.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I thought I’d just share with everyone that things are bleak sometimes and it may seem like there is no hope. But in all that craziness, there will always be a small sliver or light you can hold on to. Life gives you that much. My situation is still shitty at best but I choose to believe that things will turn around for me. I did not become like my mother, and I am proud of that. I chose kindness and compassion and tolerance over what I have been taught and shown my entire life. So I know there can be some good in this world that rubs off on you and sticks with you because you know it feels right for you.

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

Asexual

I was 14 when I realized I was LGBTQ2IA+ but at first I thought I was Bisexual at first because I didn’t even know what being asexual was. Just before I turned 16 is when I started thinking more about asexuality and I knew as soon as I found out more about what is was that it was who I am. The first person I told it was a really casual thing and we didn’t really talk about it. After that I told my best friend but after that I realized I didn’t really care about coming out. I started thinking that people who are straight people do not have to come out and being straight inst the norm anymore so I just went along and people found out when I introduced everyone to my girlfriend. After that people kind of just had to except it.