Community Rainbow Waves

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Lesbian

I was bullied all through school even before I 100% knew what I was or felt. I thought I’d keep trying to be “normal” by dating lads but it just didn’t feel right to me. I finally started dating a girl and I just felt like this was who I was. I came out to some of my family at the beginning and they were great especially my nan. But when my parents found out they weren’t 100%supportive of me. They insisted this was a phase or that I was atleast bisexual. I’m now 24 turning 25 in July and only recently got my parents to understand that I am a lesbian and just because I am a lesbian doesn’t mean I won’t get married or have a family. I’m happier in myself, I’ve been through a journey of up and downs with it all and having 0 confidence but I’ve met great people and have family that are in my corner .

Lesbian

Not much of a story, but have always felt different in a way. And when I tried dating a boy it felt so wrong. I’ve never felt those feelings you are supposed to feel when I was with a guy but would be attracted to woman or at that stage girls, and would only feel the butterflies with them.
Because of the way I grew up and the kind of people my family were I didn’t want to accept it and couldn’t accept what I was. Found my sell falling deeper and deeper into a hole and losing myself. When my sister found out, she was supportive and helped me thru it. Finally learned to accept who I was and when I did I felt tons lighter
It was a struggle and still learning what this all is but now I don’t apologize for who I am.

I’m bisexual

I am bisexual but when I came out of the closet with my parents they didn’t accept it so I had to tell them to “change” but luckily I have people who love me and who support me no matter who I am and encourage me to never stop being who I am.

Queer!

I grew up in a very conservative environment, where women are taught to aspire to have good grades and a good job just to impress people and lure the right man in to have a big jolly family… And that’s alright and fair… If it is what you really want, which is never true for most. These sort of expectations have one BIG thing missing… Where is the part about knowing thyself? Well that was basically me for the first half of my life.

All I knew was that I should be on the look out for this boy who would sweep me off my feet, lift me up from the ground and took me on his horse to a shinny happy ever after. And for that to happen I needed to be pretty, and girly, and not play ball with the other boys or act silly after a certain age, or speak out when I saw or heard something that I disagreed with… Basically be a slave to stereotypical standards… And I was great at it! Straight A student, shy and proper, church on Sundays’ great! (with the exception of Barbies… I still have no idea what’s the point of them)
Since I didn’t know anything else, I was OK with this reality. It was not until my bubble got burst, that I realized I was missing out.

In my early 20’s I had the chance to travel, and soon enough that shy, insecure girl started blooming. I was fortunate that life aligned the right people on my path, understanding, brave and genuine, that helped me grasp that all that I had conceived as “wrong” it wasn’t… It was just unknown.
It was incredible how fear was replaced with curiosity once those walls started to come down… I make it sound quite romantic but really my process was: go party, get drunk, have existential and trivial conversations at stupid hours of the night… But the important bit… It was all with the right people, with people different from me. That’s when I understood that everyone has a different path, essence and meaning, for themselves and for you.

One of these people was a girl… Chan Chan Chaaaaan.
At this point I had have relationships with boys, serious and… Not so serious (let’s leave it like that haha), but I was always looking for reasons not to stay with them, even if they were amazing; but with this girl I was instantly hooked, and it was not because of what she could give me (marriage, kids, economical solvence… whatever that means) it was because of her beautiful smile, stupid but histerical humour, her support, I even found adorable when she was being a brat… Yep… I was done…and somehow… she felt something for me too… And the rest is history…

Not the right kind of history because we didn’t end up together haha Buuuut that was when I realized that I didn’t care what the wrapping was, I loved the content, I love discovering what is inside of people, what drives them and motivates them and more importantly, finding that satisfaction for discovery in myself, the more I learn from people, the more I know myself and the more is to learn. We are in constant change, evolution and flow.

Today, I am not in a good spot, I have fallen again into trivialities and vanities that don’t make me happy. But writing about this, makes me smile, and I am motivated to continue this journey that brightened my soul.

I am a Queer woman. I fall for passionate and calm, for intriguing and simple, for silly and mature, for anything that knows how to love.

Lesbian

I guess I have always been interested in girls, but I refused to acknowledge it. It was kind of obvious to some of my friends, who knew before I did. I guess that is why I never really tried to acknowledge it, but my friends would often comment about how different I was from them, just trying to make me realize it. I finally accepted the fact that I was a lesbian at the tail end of my seventh grade year. I refused to accept myself for who I am, but I still came out to one of my friends, who helped me come out to one of my friends who is an adult. She managed to help me accept myself, and come out to my parents, all in the same week.

Thompkell (she/her)

I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”

Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.

I had to make a choice.

So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.

The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.

I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.

Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?

But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.

I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.

Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.

But what is a “coming out story”?

I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.

What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.

And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.

Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.

Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo

I am still unsure about this part. Still figuring it all out! All I know is that I am not straight.

I think there had always been a little niggle in my mind, something that told me perhaps I was different. I had crushes on guys when I was a teenager, but I think a part of me was always drawn to girls. I briefly wondered whilst at university, when I had a so-called ‘girl crush’ on a member of my cricket team, but someone explained it away by saying that all girls had them at times and it didn’t mean anything romantic. Over the years, I’ve had guys express an interest in me and even ask me out, but I always felt awkward and embarrassed, and ended up not speaking to them again. I just thought it was because I didn’t feel the same way, that I wasn’t attracted to them in return.

So, I dismissed it. Until it starting happening more often over the years. I found myself drawn to women – in real life, on TV, in films – more often than not. Yet it wasn’t until a few months ago, at the age of 32, that I seriously started questioning it. It was whilst living abroad, alone, away from my family and friends in the UK, that I started to think about it – consciously – and had nobody to really speak to. I had never had any friends who were part of the LGBTQ+ community growing up, and nobody ever really spoke about it. It wasn’t until I watched three separate TV shows (Glee, Atypical, then finally Wynonna Earp) in the space of a few months that I realised that I definitely wasn’t straight. Wynonna Earp, in particular, helped me come to that realisation and consolidated what I had begun to suspect, and I will be forever grateful that I discovered the show when I did, to the writers, directors, and cast for their genuine portrayals of the characters and the way this helped me figure out the truth after so many years.

I eventually broached the idea with my dad and a friend when I went back home for another friend’s wedding in February, but it wasn’t until last week (May, 2020) that I finally told my parents over the phone that I was almost certain that I was gay. And they were so supportive, said that they just wanted me to be happy, and they had always been worried that I would be alone forever given my apparent disinterest in dating guys. It didn’t matter to them with whom I found that happiness. And, really, nobody was surprised. Perhaps they knew all along and it just took me longer to figure out…

A part of me will always look back over the years and regret not finding myself earlier. But then I think I can finally look to the future and find my happiness, wherever it may lay and with whomever it may be. My dad has always said things work out the way they are meant to in the end, and I’m beginning to believe that may be true.

I am just me.

My small town nestled in the northern rockies wasn’t full of diversity. My friends and I grew up knowing a world existed beyond ours. One full of accents, varying skin tones, different religions and maybe even new sexual orientations. But those were just ideas, concepts really. We didn’t interact with that world and our little plot village didn’t attract it to us either. So we never thought about being anything other than part of our tiny community. After graduation we went out to discover the places we’d only seen in deteriorating history books and boy did we find them. Slowly we became part of something bigger. We traveled and learned and listened until it became clear this life shouldn’t be divided into us and them because we are, all of us, treading together through life’s unexpected craziness.
In this time most of the people I’d grown up with started coming out. My brother was bi and married his now husband, my biggest “crush” in high-school came home with his boyfriend, my best friend moved in with her partner and my whole rugby team laid down structural support systems for any and all members of the LGBTQ. But I was still afraid. Afraid of how much it would effect everything. My job at a Christian daycare, my parents chance for biological grandkids and even how much I just hate rocking the boat. But suddenly I was in love with a woman who was also not ready to tell the world. Which made it easy to justify hiding our relationship for years. Sure sometimes I wanted to hold her hand in public or kiss her goodbye at the airport but giving those up seemed easy if it meant I got to go home to her each night. When it ended with her parents finding her a man with a good job my heart broke along with the illusion that I wanted to be anything other than me. And who I loved was a massive part of me. A few prides and a couple difficult conversations later I was out at 29. It didn’t all get better, its still a struggle somedays but for the first time ever the pressure on my chest, I didn’t even know was there, has begun to fade. Seeing the world as one whole, knowing that different is what makes it so great and way more fun, helped me find my way. And while there is still so much work to be done I see the hope and happiness spreading further and faster and I can’t help but smile.

Nuala – Lesbian

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