Community Rainbow Waves

That Tall Redhead – CONTENT WARNING: This coming out story contains description and/or discussion about self-harming behaviour and suicide.

Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.

Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.

My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.

Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.

At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.

I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.

When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.

I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?

Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.

So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.

Best regards,

That Tall Redhead <3

Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂

Better late than never!

I always felt like I didn’t fit in with the girls I went to school with. I grew up in a hard-believing traditional Christian household, and one didn’t talk about things of sexuality that didn’t fit in that vein. So purity culture was huge, and total abstinence was expected no matter who you loved outside marriage. So I pushed it down and tried to ignore it. I was attracted to different genders and I felt wrong trying to be with people I was attracted to and had to deal with the guilt of that attraction as well as the worry of violating purity culture in general. I guess subconsciously I decided that since I could be with who I wanted, I would not be with anyone.(I know- it sounds wrong to me now too!)
Fast forward literally decades to 2020- I was terrified of coming out to my family, in particular to my Mom, who was the strongest Christian influence in the family. She passed unexpectedly in 2020, and in my processing grief, I decided it was way past time for me to live my truth. I had denied myself my true being too long. I decided that I was tired of living a lie and had moved away from the many of the strict “traditional” Christian beliefs of my childhood and started looking for myself. It was time to come out. I spent weeks thinking & worrying about it, and one day, the timing made itself right- I came out as queer.
My Family’s response: “We just assumed you were.”

I couldn’t believe that I spent so many, many years living outside my genuine self and my family wasn’t really an obstacle (some other, distant relatives are not on board, but I’ve never interacted much with them) as much as I had made them to be in my head. I know this isn’t likely a common experience and I am so proud of my family and the support they’ve given since, and the work we have put in to build communication on a new domain.

I am learning and growing, since I feel like a sort of oddity being a middle-aged “baby gay”, but I’m wading into a life that I have long denied myself. I’m thrilled, I’m scared, I happy, I’m nervous, I’m certain, but mostly, I’m free and I’m out!

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

They’ll Never Stop Shining

Stars have always been present somehow in my life. This may seem like a weird way to start off, but trust me; it’ll make sense. I always would take a moment and pause when getting out of the car at night to look at the stars, even if there were barely any in the sky, I’d try my hardest to point one out. My first and middle names are named after my grandmothers names, which in greek translated to “shining star”. To me, it connected the stars to who I am and my roots. For me to have this weird connection to them, it was only fitting they’d be there in the moment.

It was the day after new years, 2017, and I had only just turned 16 a month prior. I was worried about going into my senior years of high school, who I was as a person and so many other things a 16 year old would be worried about. Turns out I wasn’t the only one, so two of my friends at the time, one of their mothers and I planned a small trip to one of their grandparent’s alpaca farm for three days to ease off some of the stress before we started one of our last years in high school. It was spacious and cozy, the alpacas’ fleece had just been cut a few days before and they all ran around along with the dog.

It was on the second day we were there that the three of us decided to set up a tent outside of the house and camp out. We talked about the most random things. A lot of it was me randomly interrupting conversation because I would mistake the noise of a wild kangaroo for a person, but that’s besides the point. We were all comfortable in our company and relaxed. One of my friends got tired and left the other and I outside the tent as she went to sleep. We continued talking for about everything and nothing till 3:30 in the morning. I don’t leave Sydney much, and when I do it’s usually to other cities;

I had never seen a sky so clear. I felt like I was looking upon galaxies, I’d never seen colour in the sky like I did then.

So, as the conversation naturally flew into the topic I told my friend, “I don’t think I’m straight.”

It was odd that I didn’t feel scared as I thought I was going to, I don’t know if it was the fact my friend was also queer that calmed me or the fact I was looking at a sight I had never seen before but felt so connected to. In that moment, even though I felt like there was still so much of me to figure out, I knew that was my truth and I was finally comfortable and confident to let someone know.

That whole conversation under the stars remains one of my favourites. I’m not as close wth the girl I told anymore but she told me it was one of her favourite conversations as well, which brightens a special place in my heart.

Since then, I’ve come out to all my friends and my sister. Though I still don’t know it all, one thing I know for sure is that when I pause for a moment to look up for a star in the sky- I’ll know even if I can’t see any, they’ll still be shining a light, somehow saying they see me. All of me.

And they see you too.

– Styliana | 19 | Queer | AU

Nuala – Lesbian

My name is Nuala and I’m from Scotland. Scotland is one of the leading countries for LGBTQ+ rights, but we still have our fair share of problems. I knew I was different from a very young age and as I got older I felt very confused about what was going on in my head. In my 4th year of secondary school I began to think more about my sexuality. There was absolutely no education within my school and no positive representation within the media. After actively looking for my own resources I came to terms with the fact that I was a lesbian. After realising this, I went into very lonely time in my life. I wasn’t ashamed of who I was, I was more afraid of what was going to happen to me if people found out, there was no one I felt like I could talk to. I felt alone, I always felt extremely sad, I was frustrated, I didn’t know what to do with myself, I just wanted to be out and proud. I never came out when I was in school, I was bullied though out my time at school and I felt that if I was out it would fuel their fire so, I suppressed it. I used sport as my escape, it was when I would feel like myself again. Due to the lack of positive representation on the media, all I saw was negative things happening to LGBT characters and that also played on my mind. The one show that I can confidently say absolutely changed my life was Wynonna Earp. For the first time I saw queer characters being represented in a positive way, Nicole and Waverly being themselves and openly showing their love for one another was and still is incredible. I come from a very small isolated town where I would hear and see homophobia daily. The fact that Nicole and Waverly could be themselves in a small town was extremely inspiring to me and I thank Dom and Kat for that. In 2017, I experienced the LGBT community coming together at a concert in Glasgow and I felt so safe and happy. A week later at the age of 19 I came out. My family were all so supportive apart from a relative who said “I always knew there was something unnatural about you”.
I took a gap year before going to University to take time for myself and continue to become more self-confident with being my authentic self. Since coming out I felt that it was so important that I helped my community. Before moving to Glasgow (a great city for queer people) I wanted to help the LGBTQ+ community in my home town. I wrote an article for the local paper about my journey and to know that it helped at least one person felt incredible. I then went on to challenge local government councillors on making the town become more inclusive for LGBTQ+ people. I became one of the founding members of the LGBTQ+ youth group in my constituency, which is growing in numbers. I am now in my final year of University studying Sport Coaching. I have completed research on LGBT participation in sports to educated coaches and sports clubs. I am currently working through my dissertation which is on transgender experiences in sport and what needs to change to make it more inclusive. Once coronavirus restrictions loosen, I will be taking sports sessions for LGBTQ+ people in Glasgow. Through this I am hoping to provide them with a safe space to reconnect with sport, or try something new, to get fit and healthy and meet new people with similar experiences.
It is so important to me to help my community and it has been amazing reading other peoples experiences. I am so proud to be part of this community, thank you Start the Wave for providing people with this platform. Remember you are all loved, in this community we all look out for each other!

I identify as bisexual

It all started since I was young…I would watch tv shows and movies and think that the women were pretty in another type of way. I never understood why because I grew up in a place where liking your same sex was odd, different and wrong…Flash forward to middle school: I started being confused over my sexuality…I didn’t know if I liked boys or girls or both. I was very confused. Then, I was in denial…Saying I wouldn’t picture myself being with my same sex, that I supported the community, but I wasn’t LGBTQ+ and all the typical things. In December, I was scrolling down on tumblr, when I stumbled upon this GIF of a bisexual woman and a lesbian woman kissing. I got curious and searched the name of the show on Netflix. I clicked and started watching it and quickly got fond of it…The name of this amazing show was Wynonna Earp and the two women I saw kissing were Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught, also known as Wayhaught. I Remember watching that episode and being like: “I’m bisexual.” I finally realized that I was attracted to both genders and I came out to myself…I left that denial behind and confirmed my sexuality. But there was a problem…I was not out publicly, because I feared I was going to be hated and segregated by my family and others. I thought of the worst and decided to stay in the closet for a few months…On February 14th 2019, This girl dm’d me on Instagram and from there we were talking. We started having feelings for each other and to that day, the only people that knew were: my best bro, my best gal, my sister and her. My mother would ask who I was talking to and I would say that I was talking with my best bro so she would leave me alone…One day, I made the huge mistake of giving this girl my password so I could get more followers on Instagram. On a Saturday afternoon, I was getting ready to go to the movies with my friends, when I receive a text from the girl asking me out on a date. I accepted and went over to my sister to show her the text…Thing was, my mother was doing my sister’s nails and she asked me who had texted me. I didn’t tell her anything and refused to tell her. She said that if I didn’t tell her who texted me, then I wouldn’t go to the movies. We started arguing, until I shouted: “Fine! I’m bisexual and this girl asked me out on a date!” My mother looked at me and said: “thank you” in a disappointed tone and kept doing my sister’s nails. I stormed off to my room and finished getting ready and went to the movies…After the movies, I was angry at my mother, so she tried talking to me, but Iashed out and it resulted in another argument which got me to have my phone confiscated and another issue was brewing…Somehow, my account was cloned and my mom freaked because she thought my account got hacked and my parents are very serious about my safety so, they got off work early and picked me up from school and took me to a fast food joint parking lot. And we talked again…After all that was said, the things that really got to me were these words my mom said…”I just wanted to know what was making my daughter so happy.” And what both told me…”I may not be okay with it, but you’re my daughter…That won’t change how much I love you.” After those words, I felt horrible about myself and my behavior against them…I assumed the worst and I didn’t come out the way I wanted to…What I want to tell people is: Come out when you’re ready and don’t assume the worst…Please stay positive and don’t be like me.

I’m queer, black, an aspiring filmmaker and modest cinema buff.

My name is Rashard. I come from the great state of Maryland.
I came out as bisexual to myself when I was in my senior year of high school. It was slightly difficult, as I went to an all-boys Catholic private high school.
It wasn’t until college that I joined an LGBTQ student group. I went to my first Baltimore Pride in 2018, then went the next year.
I’m out to some parts of my family, including my parents and siblings.
I came to the conclusion of being queer around this time last year.
I want to be an actor and filmmaker, and I really love film so much.
I have a DVD and Blu-Ray collection damn near so vast you could probably mix it up for a small-scale movie store.
I graduated from CCBC in June of 2019, and now I’m taking classes at Towson University to get my Bachelor’s.

In conclusion, this is me and I’m learning to be proud of myself.

Queer

When I was a kid, my parents never taught me that there are different types of people. And in everyday of my life, I started to think that those people are not normal. As time goes by, (thanks to the emergence of social media and technology) I slowly learned about people that I thought was not normal. I remembered when I was on my 8th grade, I had this admiration towards my girl classmate. I can’t understand what I was feeling back then, but I knew it was more than an admiration. She wasn’t my bestfriend, nor a friend, she was different. And when she started getting a little cozy with me, I freaked out and pushed her away. Because all I know is that, if a girl likes a girl, they’re full-on lesbian, and if a guy likes a guy, they are gay. I was naive with these kind of things because my parents are somewhat conservative and “homophobic” and so they never taught us when it comes to that. I had no idea that there are different labels of sexual orientations for someone. All throughout my high school life, when I knew a girl is getting cozy with me, I would totally shut them off because I’m afraid a girl would like me. And that was the biggest and most stupid thing that I ever did. I was shutting off and pushing away people who are actually willing to show love and care towards me.

But when I got into college, it became a plot twist for me. I met this girl from an org in our school. I saw how dedicated she was on what she was doing and I saw myself staring at her everytime we see each other. That was when I started to really admire and get attracted to girls too. I freaked out, not in a bad way, but I freaked out because I realized it’s real and that is who I am. And that time, it’s like I was hit by a huge rock, or an overspeeding truck, or a lion just bit me, that I like girls as much as I like guys.

I think, labeling your sexuality is your job and no one elses. Because you only get to know yourself more than anyone. With me, I don’t like to label myself yet, because I know I’m still young and I still have a lot to experience and journeys that I have to go through. I’m just really happy and glad that Dominique inspired me to come out publicly, like, to strangers. Which is strange because this is my fear and only fear. Ever since I watched Wynonna Earp, Dom already gave me confidence to totally know and accept myself more. Maybe by coming out to you guys, it will make me accept myself more before I come out to any of my friends or relatives. Though I’m still sh*t scared on what other people might say or people knowing about my true self, at least there are people like you who understands and accepts other people’s truths. And I’m thankful that I came across to Dominique and met a lot of amazing and inspiring people.

I wish I could have the courage and bravery a lot of you guys have into coming out to people. Maybe not now, but soon. And I believe the time will come , I can proudly wave the rainbow flag not just for me, but for all of us🙂 xx

Difficult

I realized I was into girls about three years ago, I was fifteen at the time and I didn’t really understand. With that being said I did the most dreadful thing ever I fell in love with my best friend. She didn’t understand why nor did she feel the same way and this really crushed me. I didn’t tell anyone other than her about my feelings I didn’t even tell her I thought I was into girls. She simply told me it was a faze and I even convinced myself that all it was, simply a faze. Months had passed and my friends would talk about how they thought being gay was wrong. This only made me push those same sex feelings even further down. Here I am three years later, eighteen and I know I like girls 100%. I am too scared to come out and I don’t know what to do. I know my family wouldn’t accept it. Please help me.

Olga from Belarus, Minsk

I’m queer (bi). I madly love my girlfriend, with whom I live. We are raising her son. We love, we are happy. But, our parents (both her and mine) do not recognize our feelings and deny them. We want our parents to know that their children are happy.