Community Rainbow Waves

Elizabent91

I was at my Year 7 (middle school) camp when i first noticed that the 3 girls in my cabin were all talking about how hot Tom Felton was. I couldnt care less. I had a few guys that i liked in my early teens, but as soon as i imagined anything phisical happening i would notice again and again that i didnt like the thought. I reached the end of Year 11 (Junior year) and the Teacher for our Communities and Families subject asked us to pick any topic that we had covered that year and do a case study on it. The topic i chose was the only topic i knew little about, a marginalised group in society called Gay and Lesbian (or LGBT). It was only a concept to me, all i knew was that it ment that people of that label had a sexual attraction to the same sex. I knew of a couple of token characters and personalities in the media but nothing significant and certainly no one in my own life. It crept up on me over the course of a couple of months. Luckily my mother didnt care, my 14 year old brother said “so what?” My dad told me he has been friends with the lead of a lesbian band here in Sydney for many years. None of my immidiate friends and family really cared and accepted me fully. Why was it that while i became interested in dating and a relationship at 12, it took me 5 years to fully realise why i wasnt interested in guys? It was because i had very little representation or exposure in the media (heteronormativity)
and in life to different sexualities and genders. The queer characters i had after coming out were nothing like me. Jack from Dawsons Creek, The L Word and Willow and Tara from Buffy. This is my coming out story. I turn 30 in a few months and only now feel like i am represented in the media. Dominique’s work as Waverly Earp and with Start the Wave makes me feel seen. I finally have a place to belong. “To be me.”

Lesbian

Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.

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.

My name is Gaby and I´m Queer

Hi guys my name is Gaby, I have 23 years old and I from Venezuela but I live in Argentina.

so here goes:
I started to feel strange when I was very young, when I have 10 I started to realize that I was attracted to one girl in my school something that not happened to me with boys, it was a stange felling it scared me a lot I studied in a religious school and my family were very traditional So what they had instilled in me since I was little was that those feelings I was having were VERY BAD because of that I made my feelings go aside I grew up trying to ignore what I felt, I knew that something was different in me and that kept scaring me a lot, I did not talk to anyone, many nights I cried and told myself that it could not be like this, God going to punish me and that My mom would suffer a lot, so I kept ignoring that feeling and hid it pretty well until I fell in love. I fell in love with a girl without realizing how it happened, but it was what I felt, I do not know what happened to me, but one day I woke up and told myself that I could not continue deceiving myself, that I could not let go of my happiness because of people think bad about me, so I dared to be myself, it was not easy to accept me but when I decided to talk to my friends they supported me 100%, gave me strength, I started to read and see lgbt characters on tv what made me inspire me more and more and make me feel great, YES I am different and what? being different is AWASOME.

Time passed and I decided to come out the closet with my mom, I can swear that it has been the most hard and sad moment for me, she cried a lot, got angry to the point of calling the who was my girlfriend at that time and demand her that she move away from me I was a minor (16 years to be exact), that night I felt extremely bad I came to feel very guilty for all the pain my mom was feeling, for my mom, being a lesbian was the same as being a drug addict, coming out with my mom it was not nice, but I must say that it is the best thing that I could do, After several visits to the psychiatrist, many conversations, and all the information my mother sought about homosexuality, today my mother has become my greatest support. hearing from my mother “You are my daughter, I love and accept you as and as you are “is the most gratifying and beautiful thing that has happened to me, she supports me, she loves me as well as she also loves my girlfriend (The love of my life), little by little I was telling my cousins ​​and aunts my truth and I The only thing I have received is love and support, now and after several years (I am 23 years old) I can say that I am a free woman to love whoever I wantand with all the confidence to shout it out to the world, thank you To my mother who despite being from another era and being a traditionalist, put love for her daughter before everything, thanks to my friends for always supporting me, thanks to the fact that we now have good and incredible LGBTQ representation on TV, I must thank the universe for putting such amazing people in my life. I really hope that if you are reading this it will help you, that you understand you are not alone, that the world is a beautiful place, love always win because LOVE IS LOVE and love is what moves the world.
Be BRAVE, be STRONG, be HAPPY and FREE.

This was my story, thanks for letting me share it with you

PD: Dom. I am so happy for you. I would like to thank you for always inspiring me. Your light makes others shine.

Start the wave.

Trying to be kind

Maybe when I’m 12 or 13. I used to like to chatting with girls. I used to have strong feelings. And then I know, it is love.
I got caught by my parents. And they were so dissapointed with me. Thats makes me so sad. But, I need to accept that. Cause the country where I live now, still cant accept LGBTQ.
So, I still hide it until now.
I adore you so much with your work, with your passion, with your kindness. Do more for other. There will be a lot of ppl out there that need to be encourage.

A strong queer socially anxious chilean teenager who is awakening into a higher self

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

I turned 18 on January 17th, i guess you could say I have permission to do “grown people stuff” but reading this got me thinking.. why is it legal to have alcohol or whatever at 18 but love in any shape or gender it’s seen as something not normal in any age

I’ve known i was queer since i’ve been a child (10) and at first it seemed really normal to me, feeling butterflies when i hugged my best friend but as I started to grow older i noticed it wasn’t portrayed as something normal or it was portrayed but not the same way as heterosexual love, it was overly sexualised with wlw and i used to hear family member talking about people they knew that were gay, whispering about them like that wasn’t someway ok.
I started pushing away those feelings and i kinda pushed myself to feel something towards boys. Music and films have always been an escape for me but i couldn’t somehow the same representation in the tv on my country so i discovered more representation but in international tv, shows like glee haha and i was honestly in love with the character Santana Lopez because she was gay and also latina too, i felt for once seen.

I started looking up to “famous people” i remember my first celebrity crush was Miley Cyrus.. I was obsessed with her, then i started having butterflies over Justin Bieber so i was really confused because i’ve always heard bad things about bisexual/pansexual people like “they’re promiscous” or one family member that told me “they’d rather have a family member that’s gay instead of being bisexual” for the same reason. Then the crushes went on with different singers and actors and without even noticing i realized i begin to noticed that i could understand english because i’d would listen to music, watch tv, watch the premiere episodes (without subtitles because i didn’t want to stay behind). I fell in love at 15 with a girl from another country, it was beautiful honestly i felt really loved, i felt forced to come out to my mom/and friends because i didn’t want her to feel like i was hiding the relationship, my mom started crying horribly but supported me and she told my dad the same day without my knowledge. I told my dad a year later and he was supportive but he really didn’t think it would last “it was a phase” and “how i was able to know if i’ve never had sex with a boy or a girl” months later it all went wrong with my gf at the time and i got my heart broken.
Oh god that’s the worst feeling ever, my heart physically hurted but with love from my close friends, family, music i was able to be okay again, my dad over the years started noticing it wasn’t a phase, and started to not care too much about my sexuality. My sister is great because she always knew and was okay with it.

(((((((((((trigger warning ))))))))
I’ve also struggled my whole and (short) life with depression, anxiety and suicidal tendencies/thoughts. My parents divorced when i was 1 year old but they still lived together until i was like 7, my father was abusive with me, sometimes my sister but mostly my mom. When i was really young i saw all the violence, i hear all the insults and shouting, i saw how he grabbed my mom and punched her.

Obviously as i started to grow older i develop an aggressive personality too but because i was so angry at him. I used to hate him for a while and i didn’t treat him right either so he would emotionally abuse me, he made me feel so insecure about my self, my body, my mind, the things i enjoyed that i even forgot i was a person. My sister would get on his side because he would manipulate her. He always compared me to my sister and viceversa, congratulated when one of us was “slimmer” and tell the other one that should lose weight. My sister and i until this day struggle with body dismorphia because of this and we always used to fight, treat each other so bad because we didn’t think of each other as ONE but as competition.

When the relationship between my mom and dad couldn’t be forced anymore, my dad got a job in another city and me, my mom and my sister started living in another state.

My dad would come to visit us but my parents always fought over meaningless stuff. I started to notice that the abuse that my dad did to my mom made her ill, she started developing bpd.
I used to treat myself so bad, i would force myself not to eat, i would sleep all day, i would be on pills to keep myself awake or to fall sleep, i would punch myself, hurt myself.
My family couldn’t understand that i was clearly not ok, that i wasn’t being dramatic when i smashed my head into the wall whenever i was upset, that i would either eat too much or eat nothing. My dad never and until this day doesn’t believe in mental health and mental illnesses “they are not real, you are just lazy” “you need to change your mindset” the last one is true but it ain’t that easy because it’s not something you choose, it’s more than a feeling, it’s a chemical imbalance in your brain. When i was 14-16 i was diagnosed with social anxiety. It was the worst period of my lifetime because i wasn’t able to do normal activities my friends could, like go shopping cause crowds made me anxious and trying into clothes triggered me, talk to new people, practicing something new because i couldn’t face rejection, eating in front of people. I stayed in my house all the time sleeping or eating.

I tried committing suicide when i was about 14 and 16, i was hospitalized like three times for 1-2 months. He got worried but he started to made me feel guilty. My mom helped me out a lot and so did my sister, my father slowly started to try to help me in the way he could even though he wasn’t great he was at least trying.

When i there were only 4 years left until i graduate school i changed to a new one because i failed one year since i was hospitalized and lost many days. I was hopeless and my friend’s mom told her about an art school project that’s close to my city my mom told me about it and i got excited but i wasn’t sure, it wasn’t like i had an option because school was 2 weeks ahead, so i said yes.

It was a great decision. I met new people, people liked me. I could start a new life. I started doing things i never thought i’d be able to do again, i was learning about things that i loved, i got closer to music, i even try acting a few times (it was horrifying and had several multiple panic attacks but i can say that i could do it at least three times).
In the two last years of school (in this school) you have to choose specialty between arts, music or theater. I was between music and theater but the last one would make my anxiety even worse so i protected myself and choose music (i wanted to go to that school because of music at first) and it was the best decision i could make, i didn’t have friends at first and felt lonely for a couple of months and i felt stupid because everyone could play an instrument or sing(i could too but i wasn’t THAT great) i didn’t want to go because the voice in my head was there again, making me feel like i wasn’t enough, i didn’t deserve to be there.
Until a met my closest friend now. I’ve never felt more blessed, she’s everything i could ask in a friend, she respects me and my space, hears me, she’s a great musician and doesn’t make me feel like i’m an idiot for not knowing some things, she explaines to me those things, she is nice and kind, really funny and gives the best hugs ever. She wasn’t in the best headspace too i truly believe we found each other for a reason because we’ve grown so much together, we’ve faced fears and challenges together.
One teacher believed in me and talked to me about why i wasn’t going and i told him that i didn’t feel like i was enough, he said to me that i was and that i did have talent and that i was passionate about music. He saw something in me and didn’t leaved me behind, he was really kind to me, he helped me a lot.

I was able to get in in the little orchesta of the school and they teached me clarinet, i fell in love with wind instruments and i had never thought i was even able to play one….
I was able to play in concerts, last year one of our classmates passed away.. it was really hard for everyone, we went to the funeral and played for them because that’s what the parents also wanted. Ive always been drawned to spirituality but i’ve never knew what to do about it, you prettyyyy and mysterious universe haha i forgot to say it but in 2017 i discovered Wynonna Earp and boyyyy it saved my life. I did some research on the people who played the characters and found a small little angel that i was drawn to miss dom!!! i don’t remember exactly when but i noticed she was vegan and had a channel in youtube “start the wave” i’ve tried going vegetarian once but i went back on meat because my family didn’t understand i wasn’t that informed so b12 was kinda fucking me uppppp sis hahah but anyway these videos helped me so m u c h i’ve been vegetarian since i saw that “veganism” video. I eat vegan food every time i possibly can and the same with drinking milk or eggs because i honestly don’t even like those things anymore. Dominique idk if you’re reading this or if you will ever read this between the amount of stories you receive but there’s one thing you should know.

I wouldn’t be the same person if i would had not found you, in fact i’m not sure if i were able to have the strength to make it trough. you had helped me so much, made me connect with myself and my spirituality again, made me realize so many things about love. I’m forever grateful and i truly hope one day i’ll be able to tell you this in person and hug you, you made a huge positive impact on my life, i want nothing but love and feeling at peace.

I truly believe the world is awakening too, we’ve never been more aware, last year the country i live had a rebellion, a beautiful one, people finally started to protest against the system, reclaiming for the rights. The young generation like me did it, and then everyone slowly started to join, even though the coward system and police repressed us by killing and disappearing people, by shooting lacrymogenic on porpuse to people’s eyes (many people lost their eyes for this reason), by torturing people, etc we the young generation are not giving up, we get that the older generation is mostly scared because of the dictatorship of Pinochet in the 73’ but we are not giving up on our rights, we will not let old people die waiting for health or having a miserable jubilation, we’re not letting them to live indebted all of our lives and never living with dignity either, we crave justice for the missing, for the femicide, for the children who live in a system called “sename” who’s supposed to take care of them by taking them away of dangerous situations/houses, but instead make them live a living hell there.

I’ve never felt better and aware, since last year i got into divination, wicca, meditation, crystals, into healing myself, taking care of myself, going to the psychiatrist, started to do things because i enjoyed them even if i feel i suck, started playing the saxophone, singing more and playing more guitar, exercise, i don’t have my life resolved but i’m enjoying the little things for now, finding purpose. My mom’s mental health is not great either but she tries her best, my sister and I get along so fucking good, we laugh sooo much together, talk about these things that made us turn out this way, the things we lived, everything, she’s a beautiful soul. I feel so fucking connected to the universe know that it sorta freaks me out, like synchronization, seeing the same numbers everywhere, manifestation and believe me you don’t even know how much you helped and help me until today.

my story is not over yet and i may have wrotte some words wrong but i am proud of everything i’ve been trough, i’m proud of knowing english and understanding without even studying it, i’m proud of the person reading this, i’m proud we’ve all made it this far, i’m proud of dominique. i’m proud of being queer.

First Clue… Crush on the Flying Nun

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.

Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.

First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.

Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.

Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.

Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.

Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.

Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!

Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…

Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.

Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”

Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”

There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.

I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.

Homosexual, Panromantic

I come from a religious family, practically raised in a church. I had gay family and in my head with my teachings that was fine for them to live that way but I could never choose that because it was wrong. I had thought it was a choice. Until the 8th grade when my best friend came out, and slowly through conversations she had made me realize that I too was possibly part of the LGBTQA+ community. Even then some part of my brain desperately wanted to be straight, knowing that my family likely wouldnt accept me. I’d pray and I’d pretend that if I just didnt act on that side of me then it would go away. In high school I became friends with somebody who was pansexual, lots of people actually but this one happened to be a senior while I was a freshman. She asked me very outright while we were alone if I was attracted to females. This came as a shock but I found myself answering yes. Still believing myself to be bisexual. By the end of the year I had wrote a poem about my sexuality, and posted it over Facebook. Surprisingly most people were incredibly supportive. However, my aunt had called to tell me how proud she was of me and ended up outting me to my mother. Who was less than understanding, I was grounded and forbidden from hanging out with friends the night of prom. (She wouldnt allow girls to really sleep over anymore either.) It took until senior year for me to come to terms with and realize that I was just simply not physically attracted to men. Which is when an uncle I had only met as a toddler came up. He came out to my father, and then proceeded to out me. My father is very religious and often used gay, queer, and fag as insults. He never talked to me about it, but I noticed he changed his language around me. When we accidentally ended up in the middle of a pride event he kept bringing up how love is love. I guess subtle support is better than none. My mom still doesnt fully accept it. Over the years I found myself having emotions for guys, but never being able to express them, cause the physical attraction just wasnt there, and I believed it wasnt fair for either me or them to be in that type of relationship. The ones I attempted always tried to get me to be physical with them anyways. It took a lot of time researching the different types of attraction for me to understand who I truly am, and I still dont really discose it unless I am totally comfortable with somebody. Or just dont care how they feel about it.

A person who fell in love with another person (who happened to be girl).

It took a really long time for me to accept that I was a part of this community. Straight out of high school I met an amazing person and very quickly we became inseparable. We were the very best of friends and would often talk about growing up and having families and children that would also be best friends (childhood dreams right?!). After around 18 months we realised we had stronger feelings but assured one another it was just a “temporary thing” until the “right” people came along. After some time we had to admit there was no one else we wanted to be with. We wanted to spend every minute with each other. Despite feeling this way we couldn’t bare to come out to the wider world. Shortly after this self revelation, as fate would have it we ended up at universities 5 hours apart. We spent the next four years making the five hour drive every weekend to see each other. After graduating and moving in with one another we still couldn’t bring ourselves to have “the talk” with our families. A year later we were pregnant with our first child and had to bite the bullet. This exciting news was met with tears (not the happy kind) from some family and shock and plenty of behind the scenes chatter from others. I think one person congratulations us. We had never hid our relationship specifically and there was a million obvious signs however everyone criticised us for not officially “coming out” sooner. That we never said the words “gay” or “lesbian” and made a clear declaration. The problem was that those words were synonymous with “less” and “a disappointment”. Someone who was different and it was acceptable to mock within our families. This is not how we saw ourselves and not how we wanted our families to see us. After having our daughter we got lots of practice “outing ourselves” to every random person who inquired about of beautiful little girl! We connected with local “rainbow family” groups and really began to feel we belonged to this community. 18 years on from meeting one another, we now have three gorgeous children and are grateful everyday for finding each other and never steering away from what always felt so right. The shame and “difference” associated with being a “rainbow family” has unfortunately still impacted us and our children as times but we continue to step forward and stand proud for we are a family filled with love.

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.