Community Rainbow Waves

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 Bisexual unicorn – 20 years 🙂

I always knew that I was not like other girls, from the age of 8 when I liked my best friend. Nothing else happened until the years passed, at the age of 14 I was experiencing my sexuality, with fear and alone. One day I bravely told my mother, that I liked girls, she was so angry and forbade me from seeing my friends and took me to the psychologist. My soul was broken knowing that she was never going to accept me, it was a difficult time, when I was 16 I stopped going to the psychologist and spoke with my most close friends, who thanks to heaven, supported me and never left me alone. It took time but now I accept myself as I am, a woman who likes women and men. I am 20 years old right now, I wonder if someday I will be able to be happy, if I will be able to be myself with my family that is so homophobic, I would like to be who I am 24/7 and not just with my friends. I wish that the world was not so cruel with its labels and that my family accepts me, me, who only wants to love and be loved.

A special bean called the lezbean

When did I know?? I had inklings and moments of suspicion that I was not like other beans in my teens. I was never into the boy beans. But my upbringing was very Christian influenced, enveloped in values that made it really hard for me to grow. It took leaving home for university, going to Vancouver, to open my eyes. I met a lot of queer beans and attended ClexaCon it’s first two years. I started consuming a lot of queer media. Eventually, this gay bean accepted herself for who she was at the age of 21. It’s been two years now and I can honestly say nothing else has ever made me happier than loving women and accepting myself for it.
When did I come out? You don’t come out once in your life. You come out over and over and over again. The first person I told was my dad in the car, on the way to lunch. Then gradually, I told my friends- most of them had a hunch anyway. Everyone I’ve told has been seriously loving. But I’ve consciously kept some people in the dark, like my mother, her being the source of the religious influences in my life. Recently, I moved to Europe. I still go to church and only three of my friends know my sexual orientation there. The first, is a bisexual girl who came out to me drunkenly at a bar. Bless her. The second, is an intern at the church who I asked for advice because I had fallen for one of the girls in our community. I specifically asked, was a relationship with her realistic? And the third person, was the aforementioned girl. She was becoming my friend and if we are to talk about love, romantic relationships, and past experiences openly, then I wanted her to know the real me. She is in fact, not queer, I’ve established. That’s okay. There are other rainbow beans out there.
Being out and openly queer in my country in Europe is very much allowed, but not common, I’ve learned. I’m going to keep my orientation to myself from now on. I fear I’m not strong enough to take on the social obstacles that I might have to face, should my orientation be widely known in my social circles. That’s okay for now. My hope is that… I can live openly one day because I’m not good at pretending to be something I’m not. People like Dom inspire me, of course. I know, in turn, I’ve inspired others as well. If I can keep that going… this nice cycle of receiving and giving, I have a lot of hope that I can get through anything life will throw at me for being “different”.
– a lezbean

Lesbian

i guess i knew i wasnt straight when i was watching greys anatomy and started liking amelia shepherd and lexie grey a little too much. i sort of obsessed over them and realized that wasn’t a thing straight girls did. i tried calling myself bisexual and it worked for a while, but eventually i realized i didn’t really like men the same way i like women. i told one of my close friends, and she encouraged me to tell my other friends. a year and five months ago i came out to my sister, and she said she wasn’t surprised. two weeks later i started dating one of my best friends, and we’ve been together for a little over a year and four months. then, 8 months ago, i came out to my mom. she wasn’t thrilled about me dating at 14, but she really didn’t care that i was gay. now she makes gay jokes with me and tells me to invite my girlfriend over for dinner. i’m glad i got the courage to come out, and im insanely grateful to my family for being so accepting and okay with it. so here i am, typing my story into a website. my name is Hannah and i’m a proud lesbian.

My name is Carolyn and I’m a lesbian.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DEPRESSION.

The first time I remember being attracted to women I was 9 years old.
I hid this fact about myself and eventually married a man at 16 in 1983, our marriage was difficult for multiple reasons. In 1986 I left my marriage. I began a queer relationship with a woman I worked with, but we both kept it secretive from everyone for 3 years and it ended sadly, which broke my heart because I loved her still and she was the only person I could be myself with! I knew I wanted to be in a queer relationship again, but I didn’t know how or where to go and meet women like myself. I was still hiding my secret from my family and friends. This secret was making me sick mentally and physically to the point I ended up in a mental institution for 2 weeks from severe depression. Upon leaving the hospital I decided I would need to tell family and friends if I was going to get healthy. It did take me a month or 2 but I came out to my family members one at a time, their are 6 siblings in my immediate family, then my mother and father. All of my family except my father was wonderful about my coming out!
I eventually told everyone which was such freedom! I was in 2 short relationships that lasted 2/3 years. Then I met my soul partner Maureen Flannery and we were together for 19 years. Maureen passed away December 20th 2017 from cancer. I’m now just starting to feel the need to be in queer relationship with another woman.

Bisexual (I think)

I developed my first ever crush on a girl October of 2019, in my second year of high school. I’ve only ever had one crush before, and it was on a boy. Liking this girl scared me more than anything else I have ever known, and I still like her. I didn’t really know what to do, but I eventually told a friend who it was and I felt better. What’s weird is that I ran away before I could see a reaction. I guess I thought she would be disgusted. But she wasn’t. I then told my best friend because I felt like it was eating me up inside that she didn’t know. We were hanging out and she was talking about this boy she liked and the whole time I was thinking it’s now or never. I told her I like someone, and of course she wanted to know because I never like anyone. I almost started crying trying to tell her, hoping it wouldn’t change anything between us. I finally told her the name of the girl and she just smiled. She wasn’t mad. I was terrified. But she was okay. And I am okay. I told another friend a few weeks later. I was insanely nervous about this one because I honestly felt like she would become immediately uncomfortable. I was with the first friend I told and I kept avoiding it. But I did it.
Last week however, I decided to tell my sister. This TERRIFIED me. My sister is not at all homophobic but I felt like I couldn’t breathe just by thinking about telling her. She kept asking who I like, and I finally said it. It was weird. It still kind of is. She doesn’t treat me different or anything, I just thought we would talk about it a bit more. But it’s okay.
And that’s it. I am out as a bisexual to the 4 people closest to me.

Gay

I knew I was attracted to girls as soon as I knew what attraction felt like, but every time the thought presented itself I promptly decided that it was a problem for future me to deal with.
Initially this was because me as an 11 year old didn’t care too much about much to have a serious think about things, but as time progressed and I learnt words like ‘lesbian’, and ‘bisexual’ on the playground and (slowly) through media the more I realised that what I was feeling was associated with those words.
Once it had a name, it was a thing and it had to be dealt with.
However the name my feeling had was given to it by my peers, who in our first year of high school (middle school for Americans I guess) would still lace those words with mistrust and hate.
Over my dead body would I be associated with something like that when I was just leaving my 11 year old book-nerd-with-a bad-haircut-self behind. So, I shoved those feelings right down and hoped they’d go away, and honestly boys aren’t THAT bad maybe I can have a nice life with a man or maybe I’ll just get one of those jobs where you’re too busy to get married?
Like our beautiful founder I was hoping it would all go away. This remains my coping method in most things to this day.
Anyway then came the years where i talked to the boys my friends said I should on Snapchat and then avoided them at ALL COSTS in school, and I started to really admire women that I’d see on tv or even my friends…. completely obliviously.
I was on the field hockey team for Christ’s sake.
In high school I was quite popular, in that I hung out with the cool kids and people knew my name. I had friends in other high schools so I went to lots of parties and my big sister could buy me alcohol so I had street cred. The field hockey team was where all the cool girls gathered and we’d always joke about how none of us were lesbians despite the trope (lol).
This was a precarious situation. I was a people-pleaser and probably always will be. I would say anything to be liked and stay in a comfortable second row of that pyramid ( I was still living under the shadow of that haircut).
I told myself that I didn’t care anyway so it didn’t hurt to keep it secret.
I also had a best friend whom I was madly in love with. Standard.
When that friendship ended it was as a result of my feelings and my unfair expectations of her and it meant I had to confront them finally.
I was scared because the the people that I loved and counted on were casually homophobic about gay people that we knew. They would say it was their hair or humour they didn’t like but in reality it was that they were different. We were young and stupid and mean and I was terrified of being rejected by them. I was terrified of not being invited to sleepovers, or girls not changing next to me before PE.
All these years I’d been rejecting my own feeling I’d turned them into something ugly in my head. I like dressing in a typically ‘femme’ way. But like not all the time that’s so much effort??? But if I looked in the mirror and felt my hair wasn’t long enough or I didn’t have enough makeup on or felt like I’d gained weight, I thought everyone would know I was gay. As adolescents we’d moved on past ‘gay’ being an insult. Now you had to be afraid of ‘butch’ and ‘dyke’.
I decided that the only possible way to come out and not be rejected was to be as conventionally attractive as possible, died my hair blonde, wore more makeup, shorter dresses, higher heels. All of these were fun in moderation. I lost a lot of weight very quickly and not very safely.
I do whatever it took to fit in because I thought it would make people question me less if I came out. I started to drink a lot and one night in with my three closest friends, I got blackout drunk and when I woke up I’d come out to them.
One way to do it.
Anyway they were so brilliant and it turned out that I just needed to spit it out.
Not just that obviously, I needed to become comfortable with my own body, my sexuality, my emotions and bloody hell I needed some healthy coping mechanisms.
At the ripe old age of 18 I’m not as comfortable as I’d like to be but it’s a journey and I’m on my way.
I started looking for positive representation and that’s when I found Wynonna Earp and wayhaught and Dominique Provost Chalkley who is just too beautifully brave . I also found this beautiful community she created and within it I could not be prouder to be a lesbian woman who is beautiful however I dress, and who is always trying to be kinder and spread more love because of this amazing woman who was brave enough to share her story.
Tonight I’m coming out to my parents and I’m gonna tell them about this gorgeous girl I’ve been seeing, big hugs to everyone telling their stories xx

Lesbian

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

When I was 7 (1987) I had my 1st crush on my art teacher. She was absolutely gorgeous. The word gay or lesbian wasn’t even a thought because I didn’t have the resources like today. No internet, only a few tv channels, no magazines or books. I brushed it off like it was normal for me and never spoke a word about it. I had a rough childhood because in my head I knew I’d never be able to talk to someone about it. It wasn’t until 95′ that I heard my 1st melissa Etheridge song. It opened me up to at least explore what I was going through. Things got a lot more complicated though. I knew I likes women but never thought of myself being gay or a lesbian. Those words were rarely used in my day to day life. Depression started in 2nd grade and still continues to this day. My worst enemy will always be my mind.
I didn’t officially come out until around 2009. I wrote an email to my family which was extremely difficult. They all knew but were waiting for me to come out. I was bringing my girlfriend home with me to meet my family. They all excepted me for who I was and excepted her as well.
Definitely one of the hardest times of my life. I still keep my personal life to myself especially at work. As much as I say I don’t care what people think, I actually do. It’s been a hard road of depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempts and lots of crying. I feel like I’ll never find someone. No matter the age, its definitely a struggle.

One should be free to live as they’re able, and not according to another one’s label – content warning: this coming out story contains self-harming behaviour

I always knew there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was called, and certainly didn’t know the emotional battles I would have with myself as I was growing up.

Coming from a relatively small country town was even more confusing for me.

What is wrong with me?
Is there something wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
Are there other girls like me? Where are they?
How will I know?
What will people think?
What will my family think?
Will my friends hate me?

The questions just kept coming, but I didn’t have any answers. Each and every day I was struggling with my inner demons.

I remember my first real girl crush like it was yesterday. There was a girl in my class at primary school that just got me. I know she is still out there, and I know she is out. One day our paths may cross again.

I moved away from my home town when I was 19 and headed for the big smoke. By this time I was in so much emotional pain. I developed a very close relationship with alcohol, but the pain didn’t go away. It was always there the next day.

I became close to one of my friend’s mum. I could talk to her about anything. She obviously saw something in me that I didn’t know was ‘visible’.

When she asked if I wanted to go out one night with her and some friends, of course I said yes. What she didn’t tell me was that it was a women’s only club. When we walked in, although petrified, I finally felt like I was not alone. The place was packed, so I definitely wasn’t alone . Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.

I guess this was the first time I came out, and I didn’t have to say a word. And I guess that’s when her and her partner came out to me.

When it came time to start coming out to family and friends, I was shit scared, and rightly so. I was cast out, given death glares, humiliated, bullied, publicly shamed, and the list goes on.

I was made to feel disgusted that I was a human being.

Even though I was living the party life, I was now very much alone. Let’s be honest, I was trying to fill a void.

At my lowest point, I just wanted to die.

Slowly, I started to meet people who just saw me, without judgement. I was finally starting to realise that life could be beautiful.

Times were changing.

Or was it just me seeing things more clearly?

Things were very different back in the 90’s.

Along came the internet, mobile phones, and a multitude of Social Media platforms.

May the support, awareness and love continue to grow for the LGBTQ+ community.

BeKindNomad – Jude

While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.

Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.