Community Rainbow Waves

Do things for you, not for the approval or satisfaction of others.

I knew at a young age that I was different. Different as in I wore basketball jerseys of my favorite NBA players when my friends were wearing dresses and makeup. I think I was around 11 years old when I had my first girl crush, I knew from that moment I was gay. At 11 it wasn’t that easy to understand, especially when you’re from a small town in Kentucky..being gay was foreign, disobedient and wrong. I didn’t have the guidance and the acceptance in myself until I was 19 years old to come out to my mother. It was hard, the relationship drifted apart for about 2 years, but she finally came to terms with me and realized that me being a lesbian didn’t change who I was as a person. I’m here to tell you that if you are scared and fearful of disapproval, I understand. You will say what you need to say when you are ready. Please do not forget you are not alone we are all here for you just reach out

~All Love,
Brittany B.

Gay (she/her)

Oh man. Where do I begin, how do I even begin. I’ll just keep it as short as I can, because there is things I can’t yet discuss. I’m 25 years old and I am a proud gay woman. I came out (if you can call it that) about 6 years ago. The way it came to be is not how I have planned it. Things happened to me that previous night and the following day set everything in motion. It was awful and I had no one to stand beside me. I was in a dark place, my family didn’t want to talk to me. I didn’t know what was going on around me. When I was young I’ve always known that I was different, that I like girls, not boys. I felt like the odd one, like the weird one. I have a crush on this girl but it can’t be right. Hell, I was so young, how did I know what all this meant? I had so many questions but no one to ask them to. It was hard and I felt like I was suffocating. My family at that point (I actually still don’t know if they changed their views) was completely against our community and what they’ve learned about me. I was told it was not the way I was raised, that I am the “black sheep”, like I was intoxicated by my friends, that they were a bad influence on me. There was a point that I thought I didn’t belong in this world anymore, that I could just end it all. I am in a relationship and they seem to accept it. I feel somewhat free, but also feel I’m not entirely myself yet. I’ve recently told my girlfriend of 5 years (and now you’re the second, third or fourth person to know the next part) that I think I feel like a man, but I don’t know what to make of it. Will people except it, will they expect me. Shit, what will my family say? I just want to be myself, and live a fearless life, with all the beautiful things I sometimes see this world has to offer.

So this is me, coming out again and coming out with something I’m not sure about.

Thank you for creating this space and thank you for making me feel so welcomed that I could share this without any hesitation.

Midori Mori

Growing up, I didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that I was different. I never needed words like Tomboy, gay, or Freaky Freshman Asian to know that I didn’t belong in a crowd of one million. But people would always feel the need to remind me of this everyday. Whether it was the moms who would cram their daughters into a bathroom stall if they saw me come in or the adults who would kick me out of locker rooms, all I could assume was that I was disgusting.

Indecent. That was the scent that followed me. A smell so pungent that it would only worsen if one tried to wash it off; A fragrance that’s been rubbed into society since the beginning of time. So I wore a mask called shame made out of lies. The more lies I smeared onto it the harder it was to breathe. Until I met a teacher who asked me to strip away the 40-ton shield I was holding. And even as my hands were shaking she managed to pull off that mask; extinguishing the fear that laid beneath it. Taking in a breath of clean air, I realized that I slowly stopped smelling this indecency and in turn, others did too.

We are told growing up that “different” meant imperfection. Imperfection meant ugly. But I want this to serve as a mirror for those like me who grew up without one. I want people of all identities and backgrounds to read this and understand that it’s okay to stand out, it’s okay if you don’t know where you stand. Because far worse than being oppressed for your differences is knowing that you’ve spent your life pleasing people at the expense of your happiness. Happiness we all deserve.

Simply Amy

I was 15 years old, but I guess I always knew, had my first kiss with a girl on a dare and it sparked something in me, my friends accepted me before I even accepted me. Spent years struggling with my sexuality identity and still do to this day, didn’t come out to my parents until I was 21 forced out the closet by my ex girlfriend, which I resent but same time grateful for, I’m open and I’m free and last year (age 28) I found the label pansexual which suits me, I love women cis gendered or not I love non binary and rarely but yes I do sometimes find myself attracted to men cis gendered or not. I’ve struggled with my gender but never really wanted to change my body and I still struggle with that identity. Sexuality and gender is fluid and I’m always going to be figuring that out but that’s ok…. I’m simply Amy and that’s ok too

Bisexual

People label being anything but straight as abnormal. That is the environment i grew up in and continue to live in . I was just as attracted to women as i was to men. I thought that was the norm and was nothing out of the ordinary. So in a way there was no moment of realization as I always knew. I came out when i was twelve but my mum dismissed it due to us being a Pakistani Muslim household not to mention my father being in the military which just made things worse. After that my mum and I never had talked about my sexuality. It was simply unacceptable to her and the rest of my family. I am 17 now gonna turn 18 this year and i have given up on coming out to them so I’ve decided that only my friends and some family members will know which I’m fine with to be honest. I am hella proud to be a Pakistani , I am hella proud to be a Canadian and I’m hella proud to be bisexual. That I am certain will never change.

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.

In a Cocoon

I’m torn about telling my story. i hardly know what my story is because I’m still trying to find my truth but i know that there’s power within a community. In finding people who are like you, who understand you, and who accept you. I also know that by telling our stories, we affect change in greater ways than any of us can imagine.
So I want to be a part of that change and I want to give my voice in this growing wave of transformation.
I hope it’s heard.

The first time I thought I was gay, I couldn’t stop smiling.
I just walked around the house all day with an ear-splitting grin plastered to my face and thinking over and over again that “I like girls.”
I wanted to shout it out from the rooftops and tell everyone I knew and loved that I’d finally found a part of myself that was hidden for so long. I wanted to let them know that I’d regained a love for myself and rediscovered a love for others that I never knew existed. And that I felt complete.
I couldn’t contain it any longer than a couple days so i told my twin sister, and she rejoiced with me. We confided in each other about our own individual experiences with our sexualities and for so long she was the only one who knew. She was the only one who I’d trade jokes and secret knowing glances with when my aunts and uncles asked about a boyfriend. She was my rock when I’d have crushes and couldn’t help but gush about them; she was my safe space.
She was there for the joy in the beginning and she’s here for the heartbreak in the now. Even though we’re separated and hundreds of miles apart, she’s still here.

It’s been 43 days since I’ve come out and 42 since I’ve been kicked out of the house. When my mom found out, she said that she didn’t want a homosexual daughter and that love is sanctified between a man and a woman. To feel anything different is unnatural, unholy, and wicked.
The sad thing is, I used to believe that for the longest time about myself too, but it wasn’t until all of this that now i can confidently say that the way i love is beautiful. I’ve never felt anything more natural than loving women and i love it.
So through all of my couch-surfing, car-living, night-crying days, I can’t help but feel the weight lifted from my shoulders. I feel like i can finally breathe after all this time, and I’ve never felt more….liberated. By being able to live authentically, I’ve learned to not only love people in greater ways, but myself as well.
So I still don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight, or if i’ll be able to go home anytime soon, but one thing I know for certain is that I’m finally able to start living my truth.