Community Rainbow Waves

I am a lesbian.

Hi, I’m Helen and I knew I liked girls to a different level probably in my 7th grade. I knew something was off and fell in love with one of my close friends during high school. At the time I didn’t know the word lesbian (I’m from Cambodia and only knew the word ‘gay’ which I thought can only be use for boys who love boys). So during college I met with my first girlfriend, we met through Facebook. We were together for two years then I broke up with her because I was too scared to get caught and also my parents at the time was forcing me to get married to a guy and I was fucked up inside the head. And I gave in to my parents and agreed to get married at the age of 25. I wasn’t happy, not at all. I lived my life in pretending to be happy. Then I got pregnant and gave birth to a beautiful boy. I got divorced when my son turned 3. I couldn’t stand living with a man anymore. My parents didn’t say anything to me but they are embarrassed that I became a widow. Through all these years I still don’t have the courage to come out. I’m now 28 years old and still living in fear of rejection and judgment from my family if they found out that I’m a lesbian. I don’t know if I will ever be brave to come out. I don’t think I can have a happy ending in this life. This is my story.

I am proud to be who I am

I always knew I liked girls. But I waited until I was 20 to come out. I am 34 now. I told my parents first. I didn’t have the strength to tell them verbally so I wrote a letter that I gave to my mother. She cried and my father just told me: we suspected it your mother is just shocked by the confirmation but we prefer to see you happy with a girl than unhappy with a man. Don’t worry it will be fine. Always be proud of who you are. And he took me in his arms. I then told all the family and friends who took it pretty well. Apart from 1 or 2 non-tolerant people. Since that day, I don’t hide anymore and my family doesn’t hide from me either and I am very proud of who I am. Today I have a 9 year old daughter that I had with my ex wife. She knows very well that she has 2 mothers and that it is quite normal even if in France homosexuality is less tolerated than in other countries.

Confusion

I came out to my parents two days ago as bisexual. I am still not sure if I am bisexual, pansexual, or gay. I guess the best I can do is say that I am queer. Writing those words is hard but it is a significant milestone for me. Dominique Provost-Chalkley made me realise that and I am so grateful for her example. I have had a boyfriend for nearly five years, but we are taking a break at the moment because I need to figure out my sexuality. I cannot go on suppressing the fact that I am really attracted to women anymore. I began watching Wynonna Earp last week and seeing Waverly and Nicole together brought up all the feelings I have been suppressing. Seeing how natural and incredible their love is on-screen has helped me to face the truth and grapple with who I really am. I have been denying who I am for so long because I was scared and because I had a boyfriend who I couldn’t face hurting. I really love him, but I am just so much more attracted to women than to him. In the beginning I was very attracted to him which is why I think I might be bisexual or pansexual. I really just don’t know though. It is all so confusing and it hurts so much. I cannot be inauthentic with him, however, as it is not fair on him nor am I able to take the strain anymore. I have depression and I think a large part of my most recent episode (which I am only just emerging from) was about suppressing who I really am so that I didn’t have to face the truth and break-up with my boyfriend who is the most amazing person I have ever known. I hate putting him through this but I can’t deny the truth anymore.
I went to an all-girls high school. I had a few crushes on other girls there but I told myself that it was just because I wanted to give my love to someone and I wasn’t around boys much at all. I was terrified and I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt. I thought I was perverted and I was deeply ashamed. I have always had problems with my self-worth and apart from being too scared to come out, I didn’t think that if I told the person I was in love with that I loved her that she would ever be able to love me or that she even should. I still don’t think I deserve love although my boyfriend of the last almost five years has been so loving and helped me develop some acceptance in myself that I might be worthy of love. I am still not sure though and I don’t know how any woman will ever love me.
My sister came out as gay about five years ago and seeing how brave she was and how normal it actually is helped me overcome most of the shame. Lately, the main reason I have been denying my sexuality is that I have been in a loving relationship and he has taken care of me throughout my depression so I feel incredibly guilty admitting to myself that who I want to be in a relationship with might not be him. I am still trying to figure it out and I am going through a lot of pain trying to do that. My depression is still in the background and the punitive voice in my head is relentless. I am having trouble seeing the future as worth living for. I have always grappled with wanting to be dead and not wanting to have been born in the first place. But Dominique has showed me the strength in living out your truth and how joyous that truth can be. I am trying to live up to my values and be who I really am and a good person at the same time. I am trying to keep living. I don’t know how long I will manage and I can’t help feeling that my suicide is inevitable but for the time being, Dominique, you have given me something to hold onto and I am so grateful. Thank you.

Painfully Beautiful

I went into fifth grade with the greatest belief that everything would be amazing. I was hoping to make many new friends and become someone that was independent for the first time. I was hoping for so many things, and got none of them. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life. It was a year that pushed me to the edge of everything and left me belittled and scared for what was going to come next.
The truth is that people often believe that fifth graders don’t have a good idea about who they are, what they like, or who they like. However, I was different. I can confidently say that fifth grade was the year that I realized that I was a bit unusual. I looked at boys with a fond eye, which is what I believed was normal, so when I first looked at a girl with that same eye, I became apprehensive. I wasn’t sure why I felt the same way and I didn’t know that what I was about to do would spark something horrible.
I walked up to this girl that I saw differently and told her, point blank, that I had feelings for her. I even remember writing her a poem and giving it to her as she stood outside of her locker. Nothing that I had done felt out of the ordinary, but as soon as someone noticed my gesture, all hell broke loose. The word got around very quickly that I was a lesbian. My classmates talked about me and laughed. They wouldn’t let me sit by them at lunch or be in their group for a project. At recess I walked alone, anxiously staring at a group as they continued to talk about me. I had never felt so isolated and alone, most of all, I had never felt so depressed. I, at the age of ten, considered taking my life. The pain that I felt kept building up and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that kept me alive was my family.
Now, my family didn’t actually know that any of this was going on. Every day, I would leave my house with a smile on my face and come home with that same exact smile. My parents and two sisters had no knowledge of anything that was going on at school. They didn’t know that I would go into my room and contemplate why I should continue fighting and not just give up. However, if there is anything worse than what the kids were saying about me, making my parents cry would be cause the biggest pain in my heart. I could never hurt myself in a way that would leave them asking why I did something or cause them to wonder if they were the reason. Despite all of the pain that I felt throughout fifth grade, I would never leave this world for the fear that my parents would be left alone in it.
Denial was the only way that I made it out of fifth grade. I denied all of the events that had occurred and stepped right back into the figurative closet that has been created for people like me. Now, as a junior in college, I am more open with people about my sexuality. I have the biggest and best support system around me and could not be more thankful. I look at life through a new lens, filled with hope for anyone like me. I look back at fifth grade and hate it in so many regards, however, I also look at it and believe that who I am today would not be a possibility without those events. I believe that everyone deserves to be happy and I will never disregard someone for a belief or aspect of their life. I have also come to accept who I am as a person and I am no longer scared. I was so close to the edge with nobody near. Now, if I ever become close to that edge again, I know I will have multiple people behind me ready to help.

I am a bisexual

When I was still a little I always admire girls. But I do fall for guys too. Until the time that I got to have a relationship with a girl. But my family doesn’t know yet about my sexual preferences. Though I am starting to out my self here in Bacolod City which is far from home.

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

Pansexual female

I came out as bisexual when I was 12 because my knowledge of things like pansexuality was really limited. It wasnt till I was 13 that I realized I was pan. I knew that I would be accepted by my family but I was still scared. Like, once I told everyone it would be a reality. I knew I liked girls when I would look more at girls in movies and I would desperately try to find a boy to tell my friends I liked. I fell in love with my best friend which is such a trope but moving on, it was watching TV shows that I really found my home (if that makes sense). It was watching shows like Glee, Wynonna Earp, and One Day at a Time that I found my confidence. I think the hardest part of it all was learning to accept myself and dealing with hiding a part of myself. Now I’m 15 though, I spend time working on ways to make other people feel accepted and safe. I think the main thing that is really helped me is seeing lgbtq+ people on TV and normalizing it.

Sunflower in a Rainstorm

Being apart of the LGBTQ+ community is never something anyone could ever plan for. At first there is usually some form of confusion and shame. However, every single person has a beautiful story on how they have persevered through. Here is my story.

My coming out story started in the 7th grade with a girl who had beautiful blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. I knew at the time the feelings I had for her were “wrong” but there was always this gravitational pull toward her. Being that this wasn’t a “normal” feeling to have, I didn’t give into my urges because “girls are suppose to be with boys” and “everyone will think I am a freak.” Because of those constant reminders of social normalities, for the next few years I was on and off with boys. I never really had a dislike to boys but girls have always caught my eyes. All through middle school I was extremely confused with my own self identity. However, everything changed when I got to high school.

I have always been an athletic girl so I decided that I was going to go for the varsity basketball team. I successfully made the team as one of the 3 freshman players. At first was quite intimidating playing with 17 and 18 year olds, until I became close with Raquel. Raquel was another freshman who had always played a few grade levels up, therefore, she already knew the entire team. Trying to fit in I latched onto Raquel to get my in with the upperclassmen. However, the more I got to know Raquel, the more it opened my eyes about myself. Raquel has identified herself as a lesbian and has been out since she was in 5th grade. She has had multiple girlfriends and always talked about how experienced she was. Fascinated, I continued to hang out with her to learn more which allowed me to feel more like myself. I never before knew a real life lesbian.

In the beginning of our off season we decided to join the University of Florida camp tournament where we would stay in dorms and train with the woman’s basketball team. Unfortunately, Raquel picked to room with one of her upperclassman friends so I roomed with the other freshman. During the day, we had groups separated by position, which was great because Raquel and I played the same position. The camp was 4 days long and every day was a different activity that would completely drain all my energy but I got to be with Raquel. The only time that really sucked was night when I couldn’t see her. But I would wake up every morning excited to get another conversation in with her. On the last night, I was getting ready for bed when I got a text. It read “Meet me in my room in 5 minutes xx-R” Super excited I threw on my sweats and waited outside her room. My heart was racing when she opened the door. The room was pitch black and our other teammate was already sleeping. Raquel motioned me to get into her bed so we squeezed into the tight double bed. Silence surrounded us and Raquel was pulling me in closer to her body. My heart was thumping but my eyes stayed locked onto hers. After what felt like forever, Raquel finally whispered “I know what you are” and kissed me. Her lips were magical, nothing like I have ever felt with any boy. We continued holding each other and shared a few more kisses until it was time for me to sneak back into my room. When I got back to the room I finally knew. I have finally came out to myself.

Finding that ground of who you truly are is probably the most scariest things that anyone in the LGBTQ+ community has to go through. Not knowing who is going to accept you or understand you is a daunting feeling which can make you feel alone and isolated. But I just want you, the reader, to know that I understand and I accept you. A quote that has always stuck with me is this: “Not all those who wander are lost.” Be your own truth and know that you have an entire community behind you, supporting you. I love you and we are in this together. #StartTheWave

Bisexual

Accepting me was a very tough process. Living in a closed-minded country, with homophobic parents and in a school that I knew did not support the community made me question myself many times, it made me live in an environment where I believed that my feelings were not valid. It was thanks to the performances on tv shows and being part of the lgbtq + community on twitter that made me realize that my feelings are valid and normal. I have not yet had the courage to come out with my family because I know it will be difficult, I have tried to see their reactions but we have always ended in discussions and at this moment I depend economically on them for my studies so I have not been able to do it. I met amazing people on twitter who are from my country (Peru) and who have helped and inspired me a lot in my journey and I hope that later I can come out into the world to say how proud I am to be who I am.

A badass graysexual lesbian

When I was younger, all my attempts at imagining myself marrying a man felt… off. So naturally I assumed that I just wasn’t someone who wanted to get married.
On my facebook account that I started at the age of 9 (dont arrest me) I had mistaken the sexuality question on the profile description as a question about what friends I would like to make. My facebook profile read “I am interested in girls” for everyone I know to see. I was 9 and had no clue what a lesbian was, but I certainly pretended to know when everyone at school started calling me that.

There were countless times where I would think to myself “the next boy who walks through the door will be my crush” just because I was so tired of my sister asking me if I had any crushes on the boys at school. In reality, I had no interest in them at all. In fact, I didn’t have any crushes on anyone and didn’t even feel attracted to people, which was very confusing and made me feel somehow defective.
Both of my sisters had relationships and crushes on guys and talked about how people were attractive but I just didn’t get it.

The first crush I had was in middle school, and it was my best friend. I still had no idea what was going on at that point, and only realized until it was too late and she had moved away. I put a lot of effort into research after that. By high school, I knew for sure that I was gay. Luckily at the school I attended, almost everyone in my friend group was part of the LGBTQ+ community and I even had the opportunity to join the LGBT club there! For the first time I felt seen by the people around me. There was no stress on coming out because we were all growing up with the same pressures and expectations that we hated. ‘Be normal’ ‘Be straight’ ‘Do what you’re told.’

My research also lead me to the asexuality spectrum. An infinite spectrum of the gray area of sexual libido on which I have come to fully recognize I will never find my exact place. However, knowing that my lack of sexual attraction was not some kind if mutation but instead just the way my brain worked was more than I could have ever asked for.
I felt safe to be who I was at school without the fear of being called names or being bullied for it (not to say I wasn’t bullied for other things, of course).

Coming out to my parents was not hard. For a while I felt bad or somehow inadequate because I didn’t have some tragic story, but then I realized that it was a fact that I should be greatful for.
My parents aren’t the only republicans in the world who are accepting of the LGBTQ+ community, but it is not common to positively associate those two things together.

I came out to my parents as graysexual the week after I did extensive research on it. It was a non-issue. My gayness, however, I kept hidden for four years.

Not because I purposefully hid it, though. Not once did I ever tell my parents “I like boys.” I never in my life wanted to ever have to LIE about who I was to anyone. They simply did not ask about my sexuality.
Except one day when I was 18, while I was sitting outside with my mom, she finally had the thought to ask if I liked boys at all.

I was nervous; caught completely off guard with the question I had never expected her to actually ask (despite the fact that she has previously asked about my gender identity and pronouns). Shakily, but nevertheless determined, I told her the truth.

“No, I’m gay.”

She seemed shocked at first, and asked me if I was serious (because sarcasm is a true commodity in my family). After I told her I was serious, she smiled, shook my hand, and said, “Alexa, play ‘I am Woman’.”
I distinctly remember the corner of my lips trembling anxiously as I tried to fight the smile that wanted to break out across my face. I had never been so open with my mother before about anything, and it was an odd feeling to feel accepted by her.
The rest of my family soon followed. My older sister thought I was joking and wasn’t paying attention the first five times I said it, so I had to grab her by the shoulders and say it directly in her face. She quickly hugged me and congratulated me then.
I told my dad, eldest sister, and her boyfriend all at the same time after hearing my sister’s boyfriend sing “I’m coming out”. I thought, why not? So I told them right then, and my sister said she already knew because she had seen all the gay shit I watch on my netflix account, haha.

I got hugs from all of them, and felt proud to be part of such an accepting family.

I did not know then that coming out was not an isolated experience. It is a constant task. A box that needs to be checked every time you make a friend. By the time I got to my third semester of college, I found I was tired. I wanted to see what it was like to not come out to friends for once.

Really long story short, I didn’t come out to a group of friends that I had incorporated myself into and I ended up accidentally going on a date with one of the guys who probably didn’t believe me when I told him that I’m gay. He then outted me to the entire group, and they proceeded to question if I really was a lesbian or if I just didnt want to date that guy.

It made me feel so inadequate. As if being a lesbian is some kind of last resort to get out of a bad date.

I started to feel very insecure about myself and after that incident I stopped hanging around those people, bought a ton of rainbow-themed clothes, and wore my rainbow bracelet obsessively for nearly a year. After that I never purposefully hid my sexuality again. I had seen the other side and the grass was putrid and yellow.

Due to some amazing friends and supportive family, I have become proud of who I am. I don’t hide anymore. I advocate for who I am and who I want to be. I get angry when things are unfair. I get sad when people are being hurt. I feel happy when I see part of who I am on TV more and more often as the years pass.

Other people have it a lot worse than me. Many of those people are my close friends, and it breaks my heart.

What my experiences have shown me is that I am lucky. Every day, I have people who support me and love me for who I am, and I am so damn grateful. I hope more than anything in the world that I am that person for someone else.