Community Rainbow Waves

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.

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.

The Invisible Girl

I think I am actually invisible sometimes.
I think most people think that every now and then.
I was little the first time I felt invisible sitting on a brick wall outside of my church, all the other kids had run to play but I was too tired to play. The adults didn’t even seem to notice I hadn’t made it to the playground.
The thing is I knew then I wasn’t invisible but I still thought it, I still think it.
I do not like putting myself out there.
I slouch when the teacher asks the class a question.
I panic when I don’t understand things.
I panicked when I finally came out to my best friend. I actually don’t even remember what I said to her and I am quite certain that she responded within a minute but that minute felt like forever. In that minute I thought of all the ways my best friend could say she didn’t support me and all the painful ways I would slowly disappear to the person that had stuck by my side since birth.
The truth is even if my friend had said she didn’t support me I would still be me, I would still be gay and I definitely would still be visible.
So here I am.
I haven’t disappeared
And no matter what people say I will never disappear because I have every right to be happy, to find love, to be me.

I’m a bisexual latina

I think that since I was little I always felt that something was off or that I did’t fit with the rest of my family or friends. I grew up in a place where being LGBT wasn’t something that you could be or see on a daily basis. I was your typical stereotype of being not so feminine, loooove soccer and hang out with the boys more so than with the girls. Oh the irony!

I remember that when I was 8 o 9 I had this “competitive” obsession with this girl in the opposite soccer team. I always thought that I just wanted to defeat her in every soccer match and If she didn’t play I would get very upset. Later on you start to see this “gays clues” that life would throw at you and don’t realize. Then, when I was in secondary school and puberty started I had this massive crush on a boy, the pretty boy of the school, so I got distracted for a while but deep down I still felt off from the rest. When I was 13 this boy got a girlfriend and for a while I thought that I was jealous of her but in reality I was jealous of both, at the same time!

Then, highschool happened.

When I was 15 I finally had the opportunity to see “gay people”. Yes, as ridiculous as it sounds. Back then representation was not something you could find in mexican telenovelas o any other type of show broadcasted. Internet was just starting to be a thing and basic education at school never tells you that not being a cis straight person it’s possible. So there I was watching girls kissing girls and boys kissing boys and then I knew that was possible but still didn’t questioned it within myself. I hadn’t realized that I’ve had feelings for girls before.

Not until I was 16.

I’ll never forget it.

I was in my biology class, bored as hell so I started to get distracted and while looking around I suddenly felt that someone was staring at me. So…I turned around and there she was, this beautiful girl looking at me. We shared a look, like a 10 seconds long look!…and I knew. Nothing happened between us mostly because I was scared. I’ll always regret that.

After that, research started, quizes about whether I was gay or not, youtube videos, webseries, Carmilla, clexa, Las Aparicio here in Mexico and eventually I came out to myself.

I was in fact, attracted to cis men and cis women, I was bisexual. So far I haven’t had attrattion towards non-cis folks but who knows?!

It took a while for me to know because my attraction towards men is not as strong as it is towards women so I thought I couldn’t use that label but who cares, I feel comfortable with it and sexuality is fluid. If I ever feel the need to change it , I will and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it.

Once I figured that out I decided to come out to others.

I started with my bother, who by the way, is also part of the community! I was so funny when we both knew about each other.

Then, my mom. Poor soul, my bother had just came out to her and a week later her daughter as well. She was shocked I can tell you that but with some time she processed it and now she is even asking me to take her to a Pride Parade, gay bars and everything that’s gay because as she says, it’s what makes me happy and “gay people are so funny”

My dad found out because of her, she told him and he was cool about it.
I know that I am lucky to have a family that loves me and supports me no matter what and unfortunately that is not something everyone has but I know the world is slowly changing.

We will make it, maybe not my generation but the future looks better than the past.

XO XO from Mexico.

Blood & Water

Growing up I had an open relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. My mom was a very good listener and had a gift for making her home a safe place for kids. I have distinct memories of my best friends, going through rough times (either life-altering crisis…or in hindsight not so serious teenage dramatics) coming over to feel “heard.” She’d listen and understand and when she’d leave after hugging us goodnight my friends would often say something like “I wish my mom and I could talk that way.”

Fast forward to the summer of my senior year in college. At the time I was in a 2-year relationship with a beautifully kind guy my family, and heck myself thought I’d marry soon after graduating. I was taking a summer course and decided to live in the dorms with one of my best college friends and teammate, “Bell.” (for purposes of this story) Her best friend/partner, now spouse, was bunked up with a girl that would end up playing a pretty big role in my coming out story. “Bell” was pretty involved in the LGBTQ community as her partner had at that time recently come out as trans. By then they had fought through most of what would be their uphill battle as an LGBTQ couple at a very Catholic school. This context is important because by that summer I had introduced them to my mom. She was kind and treated them like any other person I cared about. This little detail will throw me for a loop later…

One summer night a group of us decided to go to a Gay club. It wasn’t my first time going, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say some part of me knew something was going to happen. The night ended with me kissing the girl I mentioned and making the conscious decision to see what sleeping with her felt like. My understanding of my sexuality at that time was that I enjoyed having sex with men, I loved a few along the way…and if I ever found myself being attracted to women, I’d simply add them to the list of people I was also into. I’d say I had a very matter of fact feeling about my sexuality. Love is Love… and I’m straight.

My mom called the next morning and I answered, “Hi, I’m hungover as hell and a girl kissed me last night.” I remember her laughing and asking if I was going to tell my boyfriend. The conversation went on and now that I’ve since been to therapy (which rocks btw) I can clearly remember the sound of how casually I lied to my mom. The truth was that I was interested in this girl since summer started, I leaned in first, she leaned in back, we kissed, and I made the mental call to go home with her that night. I realized I was slightly full of shit when it came to honesty. With others…and myself. Sure, I kissed girls in High School on “dares,” but never admitted I liked it and maybe… (not so maybe) put myself in a position to take those particular dares on purpose. I told myself, my parents, and friends what made sense about boyfriends I genuinely loved as people, but possibly never really liked as partners.

All in all, the open relationship I thought I had with my parents wasn’t so open. And that was on me. However, the fears that kept me from being honest then and now (still healing) were realized when I broke things off with my boyfriend and called my mom to tell her I was, “pursuing a relationship with the girl” I had told her about. She screamed, my parents cried, they cancelled my phone plan, closed my bank account, sicced my very Mexican very old school grandma on me, and of course, “cursed the day they spent 6 figures sending me to a Catholic school to become a lesbian,” etc. I laugh at this all now (again… thank you therapy) because it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to start “adulting,” but I’d be remiss to say it didn’t crush me. A. because I was surprised, they reacted the way they did given how open they had been with my friends and their experiences. (Although clearly my subconscious was on to something lol) B. I began to associate my self-worth with monetary value. Money and acceptance were twisted into a very messy and conditional thing that I would later need to work out. Money of course screaming PRIVELEGE. (Insert: Unlike a lot of my LGBTQ family I am a white passing, middle class, college educated women, and because of these things I was born into I was in an ideal position to get back on my feet, quickly.) And acceptance of course being something too many of us struggle with on a daily basis.

Fast forward to ending a very toxic and abusive relationship with the girl from the gay bar, moving into my own place (parents eagerly paying for the Uhaul when I announced I had left her… there’s an ironic gay joke in there somewhere) and meeting my now wife amid the chaos. At that point I was out to my friends and sister but had never said the words “I’m Gay” to my parents. Sidenote: I never said those words to my friends or sister either, beautifully enough I simply told them I’ve met this amazing girl and it’s going well…they didn’t need the labels.

After 6 months of dating my then girlfriend I told my parents I was in a relationship. Fast forward another 6 months of my dad telling me they weren’t ready to meet her I decided to propose knowing I couldn’t wait for them to come around. We got married a year and a half later and they didn’t show up to the wedding. We’ve been married for 2 years and are now trying to start our family!

They probably won’t ever meet my wife, and our future kids, but I’ve learned that coming out and coming into myself was something I did unconditionally. A sort of promise I made to myself and the world (Insert: source or the universe, g.d, or whatever works for you) that I would dedicate my authenticity to the balance of justice and harmony. And although that balancing act is sometimes very hard with people like my parents it makes for clear boundaries… simply put, seek justice when the rights of others are at risk (i.e when I don’t stand up for myself, my community…or other marginalized peoples)…and seek harmony when recognizing one another’s humanity will birth compassion and perhaps strides towards progress and understanding. (I struggle with the latter)

The last and most important thing I’d like to share, and the gift of my life is my chosen family. It may be cliché and an unfortunate necessity for many of us in the LGBTQ community, but the friends I have found and the family I have built is more than I could have imagined. I have a sister that walked me down the aisle, best friends whose parents showed up to celebrate my engagement, witness my first look with my wife, celebrate my marriage, create and celebrate new holiday traditions, and last but not least show up for every major life moment no matter the miles between us. I’ve found friends and bonus parents that will help raise my children and teach me how to be a wife, mother and the best version of myself. Sure, there is pain, but like many quotes that are historically misinterpreted, “blood is thicker than water,” really means that the blood shared on the battlefield is thicker than the water of the womb. And trust me the people who have chosen to fight for me and those I’ve chosen to fight beside are sure as shit there. Always.

For anyone needing to hear this: “You are loved, and it gets better.”

Lesbian- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT BULLYING AND DEPRESSION.

When I was nine I had a crush on a girl in my class. I would get a sick fizzy feeling in my stomach everytime I saw her. I never liked boys and as I grew older and more sexually aware I knew I was different from everyone else. Unfortunately this put a target on me and I was bullied throughout high school. I became closed off and depressed because I wanted to be like everyone else, what society classed normal. I hid my sexually away from everyone until I was 23. Unlike me my little brother who is also gay wore his sexuality on his sleeve he never cared what anyone thought and gave me the courage to accept myself for who I really am. So i took a deep breath and told my mum i was gay and she smiled. She said she had known who I was since I was 4 and only wanted to kiss girls while playing kiss chase. Now as I near my 40th birthday I am out, i am married to the most beautiful woman in the world and i am happy.

Lesbian

I found out when I was 11 but I guess I always felt like I knew and the first person that I told was my best friend and she has supported me through it since, then I told my mom but she just told me that I was too young and I didn’t know anything but it’s been a couple of years and I’m still the same person I still like girls i just hope she allows me to be me once I tell her again I hope she supports me.

A discombobulated female that is into girls

It never completely dawned on me that it wasn’t socially ‘normal’. Both my parents had never shown a liking to the community but never expressed directly that they hated it either. We moved house a lot when I was younger cause of their work, so I got to see so many different cultures and ways of living.

I first got the impression that I was (in some ways) different when I was in secondary school. My favourite teacher did an assembly on LGBTQ+ topic, and ended it by coming out (subtly). A few months later I was questioning her on all things GAY! How to know if I was gay, if other people could tell etc. I ended up coming out as lesbian in year 9, and from then I noticed an increase in my confidence and self-respect. Most of my friend were extremely supportive giving me even more reasons to be proud.

I came out to my parents a month ago, 2 years after my first big announcement. I was only able to do this because of my amazing teacher guiding me through the hate crowd we call a society. She is the reason I can stand up to people and admit that I am a lesbian.

I want this to show that support and knowledge about LGBTQ+ matters and can make someone change from a nervous 11 year old with a stutter to a strong(ish) 16 year old.

I haven’t had a long battle with my sexuality and sometimes I am told that I’m not ‘old enough’ to know what I want. BUT I am proud of me and my community 🙂

Queer / Lesbian

I think I was 14 when I realised that I was gay. I was watching “Dr House” and there was a kissing scene between two women. At that time I didn’t understand why I was so obsessed with it. I thought about it all the time. And then a few weeks later I discovered a TV show all about gay women. And then it clicked. The thing is at that time there were no representation at all. Of course I knew lesbian existed, but I didn’t know it could be me. It took me a few months to fully accept it, that I was that person. A year later, the day that I started to go out with my first girlfriend, I came out to my parents. I didn’t want to lie to them, it was important to me to be true to myself and to my family. I believe that I am very lucky because I came from a open minded, loving family so it was a relief to come out. I wish that every coming out story would be as peaceful and happy as mine. Love is love. And love is beautiful.

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.