Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian – my long journey to truth and love

I knew I was gay before I knew what gay was. I remember watching Hocus Pocus as a child and being in love with Alison. I knew how I felt, but remember thinking “that’s not right though because girls like boys.”

When I was 11 and started high school I had 2 friends who soon stopped talking to me because I wouldn’t say which boy in our class I liked, I could have said which girl I liked but I knew that “wasn’t a thing” having still never heard the word gay and with no education on the subject or representation on TV or in films.

I actually can’t remember the moment I found out about different sexualities but I know at some point my understanding went from “girls like boys” to “okay girls can like girls but it’s wrong/frowned upon.” Whatever my understanding I knew that I liked girls, and girls only, but I also knew that I would never tell anyone.

I am a people pleaser, I didn’t want to stand out or ever be controversial in anyway. In fact that’s something I still say to people when they say that being gay is “my choice” – if they knew me at all they would know I would never choose to be something anyone deemed as unacceptable.

I really tried hard to like boys, I could write a book on the disastrous dates I went on when people tried to set me up. I never had a 2nd date with any of them, I’d get home and cry and make excuses as to why they weren’t the right fit. I just thought that was my life, I’d just be on my own, it was easier than coming out and not knowing how the people I love would react.

I wrestled with these demons and never told a soul I was gay until I was 26 years old.

And then everything changed, a new girl started at work and as soon as I met her I was in love, we had the same interests, the same values, we soon became best friends.

We had been friends for around a year and a half when she came upto me as she was leaving work and said “text me when you finish, I need to tell you something.” I didn’t think anything of it, so when I finished I was text her “hey! what did you want to tell me?” She replied with something cryptic like “can you think of anything it might be?” for a brief second the thought flashed in my head “Oh my gosh she likes me” but I quickly dismissed it. Emma was a beautiful 19 year old dancer who everyone was after, I was a 26 year old spectacle wearing lump. So I replied and said no I didn’t know what she wanted to tell me.

Then came the text.

She liked me! It was a long text and I still know it by heart but the gist of it was that she liked me, and she knows I probably don’t think of her that way but she just had to tell me because sometimes she got the feeling we were on the same wavelength.

Well, I didn’t reply for a good few hours, which I still feel bad for. I just led there in bed thinking okay this could go 2 ways, I could reply and say no sorry I don’t feel the same and carry on living this lie without the disruption coming out would cause, or, I could say yes actually, I feel exactly the same and be true to myself for the first time in my life.

Thankfully I went with the second option, the hardest part was coming out to my family and my friends. My sisters were both amazing, my mum and dad took a bit of getting used to it but are now the biggest advocates. I lost a few friends but those closest to me were just so proud of me. Not a day goes by when I don’t appreciate how blessed I am to be surrounded by such an amazing group of people.

So that text from Emma was back in 2014, the 11th of July to be precise, from that day forward we spent every moment together. We lived between our parents houses until we could afford to rent a flat of our own. Then in 2018 we bought our first house together, and now we have 2 beautiful dogs and will be celebrating our first wedding anniversary next month.

If I could tell 26 year old me that in just a few years your girlfriend will be proposing to you in front of your whole family and everyone will be cheering, I don’t think I’d believe myself.

Ours is my favourite love story, I know not everyone is as lucky as me, but it’s important to give hope to anyone who is in the same position I was – it gets better, and being true to yourself is never the wrong choice.

People ask me if I wish I’d come out sooner, the truth is that no, I don’t wish that. I wouldn’t change a thing in my story and risk it being any different than it is now

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;

Just a human who loves humans, but tends to focus more on women

I am 16. I’ve “known” about this part of myself that finds other girls attractive as well as some boys for almost 4 years now. That’s almost 4 years that I have spent trying to suppress that part of myself and keep it a secret. That’s almost 4 years of burying, shaming and building mass anxiety inside me.

An issue I have discovered about myself is my tendency to want to “fit in”. The last thing I would want is for others to think of me as different. My biggest fear about sharing this part of me with someone is that it might change their perspective of me or, even worse, they might tie me in with their preconceived thoughts/views. Whether they be good or bad views, I just want them to think of me as that same girl before the big ole conversation. Because that’s the truth. I am still the same me.
The one thing that has made me feel sane over the years in this fine, industrious closet is the representation I see on screen. I’m lucky enough to be growing up in this time of change, where more and more queer characters are being portrayed in film and television. All I can say is that it warms my heart to see this growing community of queer characters and representation in the things I watch, and it never fails to make me feel seen and normal.
And in part, I can thank you, Dom, for being one of those people who made and continue to make me understand that being a part of this wonderful rainbow we all ride on, is okay.

I am a transgender man.

I grew up very clueless about anything lgbtq+, but even then I got lucky enough to have a mother that didn’t push me to be or feel any certain way, so when I was old enough to form my own sense of self I 100% knew-or at least I though I did. From the age of 11 I identified as a lesbian and felt confident in my identity. I had used YouTube and tumblr to find out things on my own and come to a firm sense of “yes this is me.” I told my mother not long after and, she to no surprise, was loving and supportive. I lived, identifying as a lesbian until I was 16, but something never felt right. I began high school at 14, kept most of my childhood friends, and even started a relationship with an amazing girl! But not long after, the discomfort in myself grew and grew until I was so uncomfortable in my own skin that it left me locked in my bedroom. The discomfort had always been there ever since I was a child, but I had always ignored it-so it confused me as to why it was getting unbearable now. I once again turned to YouTube and tumblr for help. I did my own research, and heard people’s stories-they gave a words to put to a feeling. It was a realization of “I feel like that too.” I wasn’t a lesbian, but a man. All of my discomfort and hatred of the thought of looking down in the shower, and fear of going out in public finally had a word, transgender. My girlfriend was the first to know, she loved and supported me. She was patient when there were days when I couldn’t be touched. She helped me test out a few different names. A couple months go by and I come out a second time to my mom. She was again loving as supported (and also not surprised). She bought me my first binder, and she tried(s) her very best to use he/him or gender neutral pronouns. I am now 19 and starting my journey to hormone replacement therapy. I got so lucky to have such a strong support system. My story is a very positive one and I am forever grateful for my mom, my friends, and my girlfriend.

Thank you for reading my story 🙂

Just a random guy enjoying to give love to other people.

I was born in Russia, adopted and living in France. I never knew my biological parents and so never got answers to my many questions. And it caused a lot of problems in the future, as I’m going to explain you there :
As soon as I remember, I knew I was feeling different. First I thought I was just a lesbian, a woman attracted to other women. But with the years, I was feeling unconfortable with my name… People were all saying “Justine” “she” “cutie” and my mind was feeling in another way…
In France there are genders for EVERYTHING, and so I was feeling weird ALL THE TIME…
I felt bad, always feeling like something was missing in my life.
I suffered for years from mutilation impulses and now all the scars remind me what I went throught, at the begining I was ashamed, but now I’m proud of it, it shows that my life hadn’t always been easy, but I survived, I won against depression.
When I clearly got what was happening to me, I decided to don’t hide myself anymore, I had a name on what I felt. I wanted to continue being proud of me and who I was ( I was already an assumed lesbian ).
I told it to my parents and my siblings last summer, and my siblings don’t care at all about it, but my parents don’t accept it, at all…
I told my friends as soon as I came back to school in September, they call me Thomas as if I’ve always been this man, and it feels soooo good !
I feel like I have a new life, truly me, Thomas, a random guy, finally loving other people because he learnt to move himself
My last relationships were better than all the others because I was myself, and I could love someone without fighting inside for who I was.
I’m a man, in a women body ( for the moment ), but I really love my life now, I’m ready to confront life and all its problems because myself isn’t one anymore.
Be who you are, whatever people think, because you have to love yourself before wanting to love other people
And, be fucking proud.
You’re an human, special, incredible, unique, wonderful.
And I am this kind of human
I’m a transgender
And, finally
#I’m out !!

A funny carefree kid 🙂

so when i was little i had the biggest crush on jessie j and like i was obsessed. and when i was in year seven i heard this group of people talking about a girl in my year who was lesbian and they where being really nasty so i was like so what im bi and you dont have a problem with me. and then i realised that it felt so good saying it but it wasnt quite right. so a few years later i came out again as lesbian and i felt so much better with myself but everyone expected it because i was the sporty short haired girl. and people started talking about me but i didnt care because i was happy 🙂 thats my coming out story x

Non-Binary

I am 43. I could say my whole story of coming out as a lesbian when I was 16, but that’s not where I want to begin. I am A former songwriter. Made a living. Wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. I had a stroke when I was 40. Had aphasia and memory problems. Then I couldn’t write anymore. I’m still grieving that, but I started painting instead. For the first time. I’ve done quite well with it. I found myself using colors and topics that have to do with who I am. Things I didn’t remember but did remember when I painted them. Like The painting was a vessel for…me to remember who I am. So I decided to come out as non-binary. I’ve always known since I was maybe 4. But there were no words for it. The binary never made sense to me. So here I am. A lovely non-binary human who loves women. And everyone has been so lovely to me. I have learned that there are always consequences to everything you do. Everything. Good. Bad. In between. So you might just be who you are. It’s easier. I hated myself for so long, but now I think I just got lucky.

Not straight

I’m Katelyn, I’m 14 and I live in small town Louisiana. In 2016, I was 11. This show that my great aunt told me to watch was called supergirl. And supergirl was the first show I had ever seen, as a 4th grader, that had a gay character. Alex Danvers was always my favorite even before she came out. I didn’t want to tell anyone but when she came out I liked her a lot more, and I didn’t know why. At that time I still was convinced I liked boys. I had a “boyfriend” if you can even call it that in the fourth grade. I was not fully aware of lgbtq+ people. My parents never hid it from me but didn’t talk about it directly. My dad’s best friend is a lesbian and had girlfriends and all but I didn’t fully understand what that meant. Until I watched supergirl and I watched as Alex struggled with her feelings and eventually came to terms with it. I continued to watch supergirl religiously until like sixth grade. At this point i had different boyfriend. The only reason I have ever had boyfriends is bc everyone around me began having crushes and boyfriends. I never really liked the boys i dated more than a friend. One of which was my best friend. He said he liked me and asked me out. I felt so nervous and pressured that he would become upset if I said no so I said yes. It was awkward holding his hand or sitting close to him. And when people asked if we were dating I get uncomfortable answering. One day in social studies, my teacher moves me to a table with three other girls all of which were very friendly and funny. We would talk all the time during class and the teacher didn’t care. The girls who sat next to me was my favorite. We became really close in class, but would not talk outside of class because w each had our own friend group. In class one day we cheated together on a test and we sat extra close and we giggled the whole time. She grabbed my hand and I get a rush of nerves I strike inside of me. All of a sudden I had butterflies in my stomachs. I assumed it was because I really wanted her as a friend and we were just becoming really close. So every day we would sit really close and hep each other with work and laugh and y’all and the butterflies were always there. And every once and a while she would touch my arm and I get like I was melting. One day in line for class she made a gay joke at me and I didn’t laugh or smile. I still had never realized that I was attracted to her. She asked “hey, what’s the matter? Wait are you gay?” She whispered respectively in my ear. I stood silent for a while, pondering on what she had said. “I think so.” I said. I didn’t know why I had said it I had never even thought it before she asked. She put an arm around me and said “that’s chill, I don’t really care man sorry for joking about it.” And that was that, I had just come out to someone. And honestly I was ok with it. I had never felt any internalized homophobia or anything like that I never felt ashamed either. One day she asked me if I was okay with telling people. I didn’t see an issue so I said ya tell whoever you want I don’t care, just don’t tell my twin sister (only cause she would tel my family and I wasn’t ready for that. They are accepting and all I just wasn’t prepared at the moment and I’m still not ready). So she began telling her friends who would then come up to me and ask if it was true and I would nod. I went to a private catholic school and surprisingly never faced homophobia. They were all really interested seeing as how most of them had never known or met a gay person before. I became kind of popular. Until people wanted to know how I figured it out, like who I had a crush on. I didn’t want to say it was my best friend so I made up and answer. I chose the prettiest, sweetest girl in my grade. We never talked much but when we did she was very kind and quiet. Everyone believed me. I said don’t gel the girl because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. After a couple of months of telling people I liked this random girl, I began to really notice how pretty and nice she was. My best friend was moved away from me in class and we began to talk less because of it. I began to have feelings for the girl I pretended to like. That girls best friend who was known as a blabber mouth, had been really nice to me and wanted or know who I liked. I told her not to tell the girl and that was the first thing she did. The girl I lied about, and was beginning to have feelings for stopped talking to me. She wasn’t mean about it she just felt uncomfortable which I understand. But it hurt. She wouldn’t even look at me when I spoke in class and avoided me in the lunch line. In seventh grade I eventually realized I was in love with her. I became really really attached to her and I get like crying every time she glanced at me and quickly turned away. Near the end of seventh grade she began to talk to me more and she became more adjusted to my reality. On the one year anniversary of coming out she was the only person, including myself, who remembered and she wished me happy one year. I cried that day. I then realized something devastating, I was going to a different school then the rest of my grade was the following year. They were going to our schools sister school and I was going to a public school. The last day of school I cried so hard. I thought about her everyday of my life until I started my new school. I found out one of my friends was hi and we bonded over that. I get more comfortable in my feelings and sexuality and I eventually graduated from my feelings for that girl. I was free from the burden of obsession I had locked myself into because of the freshness of my emotions. I feel I now, at 14, have a clearer and healthier relationship with my sexuality and I am ok. I’m good and I’m as happy as I can be. I am gay, and I’m ok with that. Girls are pretty, what can I say.

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

I came out after being dumped by my first girfriend

I always knew I was gay, even before I knew what being gay was. I was always just interested in girls. But I never told anyone. When I was 18 I got my first girlfriend, and I was sooo in love. She dumped me 6 months later, and I was heartbroken. So I finally decided to come out to my best friend. And it turned out I was worrried about nothing. I was sooo nervous before saying the words, but I was just met with love and understanding.

I had quite the easy journey of coming out, I was lucky. Thankfully I live in a country where it’s easy to be open. For the past 12 years I have lived with my girlfriend, and we have 2 beautiful kids together. Live your own truth, and be with the one you love