Community Rainbow Waves

The dance of sexualities and how I realized I wasn’t as straight as I thought I was

I was born almost 18 years ago in Germany, a country that nowadays strongly supports members of the LGBTQ+ community. I never saw that, though; I never really realized that gay people even existed. Sure, I knew it, I have heard about it, but never once in my life have I seen a gay person in real life.
Which is why I was frightened when I first looked after a girl. I was frightened because of my friends. They were by no means homophobic, but they always dreamed about boys, always talked about how they wanted their first kiss to be, some of them even were in relationships.
And then there was me, the girl who already felt like she didn’t belong anywhere before and it drove me even more insane that I did not want these things- or rather: I wanted them to be with a girl.
Whenever I saw an attractive woman on TV, I felt this weird, tingly feeling in my stomach. For a second it felt like home, or at least it felt right.
Not a single person around me showed any sign of homophobia, but I was scared, scared to admit the truth and I tried to push it away as far as possible. After, I fell into a hole. A deep, bottomless hole. My grades dropped, I stopped taking proper care of myself, I fell and it didn’t seem to stop. All because of these thoughts that kept recurring in my mind.

Years passed by and in 2015, I decided to share my thoughts with a friend of mine. She was okay with it, but it wasn’t a big deal to her. Being the shy child I was, I immediately regretted telling her and I started to think that she didn’t care about me.
A year later I told a few more friends about my sexuality, back then I labeled myself as bisexual, and all of them were more than just okay with it. I slowly became comfortable with it as well and started to watch LGBTQ+ related TV-shows and movies, I started reading more books and manga that dealt with women loving other women and slowly but steadily, I became comfortable in my skin.
2017 was a year filled with love, acceptance, and recovery. I started taking care of myself again, I got even more involved in the LGBTQ+ community, joined group chats and at some point, I even started making jokes about my sexuality. I was comfortable, but there were still two people missing in that equation: my parents.

I told them three times that I am not (only) into boys. The first time was in 2017, we were at a birthday celebration and at some point, I decided to tell my father that I’m bi. He didn’t believe me.
Coming-Out number two took place in 2018 when I was studying abroad in the United States. He never responded to that specific text message.
Number three, 2019, I told him when we visited Egypt. At that time, I already figured out that I was gay, not bi as I thought I was. He once again said that it isn’t true, that I am confused.

But I will not let that define me.
Because years later, I am here and I am an openly gay woman. I am proud of myself and even if I haven’t escaped the bottomless hole entirely, I’m almost there.
I have a lot of friends that belong to the LGBTQ+ community, the others strongly support it. I make jokes about being gay, on special occasions (Pride for instance) I dress up as a rainbow. If anyone asks me where I want to be in twenty years, I have no problem to admit that I want to live in an apartment in my hometown, a dog, wife and maybe a child by my side. I know who I am now and I am proud.

I am about to graduate from High School and I will go to college to study film. I want to write and produce TV-shows in the future because to me, they are not just entertainment, they are therapy. Shows/series like ‘The 100’, ‘Orange is The New Black’, ‘Wynonna Earp’ and ‘Carmilla’ have helped me to find myself and even friends who support me no matter what I do.

I want to change something in the future and I want to help people feel things they thought they could never feel before.
I want to #startthewave and give a voice to all the colours of the rainbow!

Much much love, respect, appreciation and gratitude from Germany!

Khetalyn

I haven’t totally assumed myself yet, my family doesn’t accept me so I don’t have any support from anybody at the moment, and the fact that I’m a minor I don’t have many choices of what I really want, my mother found out some time ago that she liked girls, it was a very complicated period, it still is, because she told most of my relatives which none of them supports because they say that religion doesn’t allow it and that this is a sin. I live sincerely on the edge because it is complicated to live in a place that you feel threatened, that has no support and no choice of what to really feel, but we can’t get stuck in this tale that society invented that people of the same sex can’t be happy, that they are wrong and that this is not right. My dream is to be free, to be free from all this and to be able to enjoy every moment beside the one I really love, I hope to be free from all this someday. And I’m fighting, I still haven’t had the happy ending or the ending I want, but I won’t give up until I get it, and you too who go through this don’t give up, fight, be resistant.

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.

Gay

I guess I started questioning my sexuality when I was 10, I’d experimented with girls and was just very confused. I didn’t know what it meant to like girls, but some part of me, did. As I grew up, my friends would ask me if I was bi, because they’d noticed how I looked at our vice principal, who happened to be a woman. I denied it. I denied liking anyone, until I met my boyfriend. He was my safety net. No one really questioned me anymore, because I had a boyfriend, so pretty much everyone just assumed I was straight, except the few people who knew. *Coughs* The girls I’d been with behind closed doors, and my therapist. When I was 15, my therapist outed me as bisexual to my mother, I was terrified because I grew up in a very closed-minded, judgmental, “Christian” “family”. Being too scared to tell the truth, I chickened out and said I was bi. This came with more questions, mainly from my mother. “I thought you liked boys, you have a boyfriend”. Then came the shame. “It’s a sin, you’ll go to hell”. And at the time, I didn’t know better, and wasn’t taught better, so I believed it. I believed I was going to go to hell, if I was myself. If I liked anyone but boys. So I tried. I tried to like boys for as long as I could. I dated boys. In secret, I also dated girls. I didn’t know how to stop how I felt, I was so confused. I was too sheltered and didn’t have any guidance or anyone to talk to about these feelings, until I discovered the TV show South Of Nowhere, in 2005. I was still 15, and didn’t have much supervision at night when my mom was at work, so I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. South Of Nowhere is a show about a girl very much like me, came from a very closed-minded, “Christian” family. She met a girl and started questioning everything. Ironically, the same character that made her question everything, made my brain go crazy. I’d liked this character way more than what was considered “normal”. I started deep diving into my thoughts and feelings with every new episode, and slowly, eventually I started realizing who and what I was. The show had a bunch of different perspectives so it really helped guide me to figure out what MY beliefs and opinions were. By the end of the series, 5ish years later, I had finally admitted it to myself. I had to come out to myself first. I was gay. There was guilt, I was still ashamed of who I was. It took a few years for me to be okay with who and what I was, but eventually I was. When I was about 20 my mom and I were in a heated argument about gay and transgender people, and she made me pretty upset so I told her that she was hurting my feelings because I’m one of the people she was being so hateful towards, she didn’t really understand and sort of just blew it off, didn’t really say anything. About a year later, when I was 21, the same argument happened, again. (We’d had a lot of those arguments). And again, I told her she was hurting me because I was gay. This time, she heard me.

My name is Hope, and I’m an out and proud, gay woman.

Rose

I was working a summer season and, for the first time in my life, was around people who were LGBTQ+ (mostly gay ladies). Obviously the question of sexual orientation came up a few times – I had never been with anyone – and a few of my friends suggested that I might be into the girls. I rejected that, having never really considered it as a possibility, wasn’t against it in any way, just never really thought of it as an option! (I come from a very straight white village in the UK)
Anyway, long story short, eventually I realised that maybe actually girls did it for me more than I might have originally thought, I got close to one particular girl, and one of my little brothers came to stay with me. Now, there were a few rumours going round due to a complicated situation involving her ex and a healthy dose of gossip, as often is the case on a season and I thought it best to tell my bro before he heard it from someone else. So, we were in the car and I said look you might hear some things about me and this girl, nothing has happened, I’m not saying I’m gay but I kinda like her and I thought you should hear it from me.
He went silent for a couple of seconds, then he looked at me and just went
“Haha. Gay.”
And that was that.

For the record, he was correct, I am a fully fledged gay, rainbows and all

Chris. P.S. Believe in yourselves. Dream. Try. Do good. -Mr Feeny

Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)

At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!

That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)

Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.

My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.

My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)

I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.

I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?

I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?

I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.

Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?

Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?

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.

I identify as transgender non-binary and bisexual

When I was around 13, i started to figure out that I wasn’t really straight. Something just felt wrong by saying that I was going to be a beautiful woman who is going to marry a man and have children and all that.
I started doing some researches about it, and I told myself that I was a bisexual woman. I stayed closeted for around a year before coming out to my parents as gay, wich felt more right than “bisexual” since I couldn’t picture myself as a woman dating a man.
So here I was, out and proud. Yet, something still felt wrong. When I was 14, I started watching some FTM transition video. I was so obsessed with those kind of videos, I couldn’t explain why at the beginning. I watched documentaries, tv shows, movies and everything until I realised that I wasn’t a woman either.
But calling myself “a man” was not right. And, as I kept searching, dysphoria started hitting.
Day after day, and without being able to explain why, the way I looked in the mirror felt less and less like me. One day, I found the definition of non-binarity, and it was it.
I am not a woman, but I am not a man either. I am me.
At 15, one month after my birthday, I came out to my parents as genderqueer, and I asked them to change my pronouns and name. Now, I am Charlie, and my pronouns are he/him.
About my sexuality, it as changed a lot with time. From a straight girl, I am now a self-made person who is going to fall in love someday, no matter what gender that person will be.
I am in a constant evolution and today I am proud of who I am.

A bisexual woman and proud

My story is a little backwards! I thought I was gay when I was about 13, I had a few crushes at school (I went to an all girls school, so there were many). I didn’t tell anyone until I was in my last year when I started to go out with this girl. She however was uncomfortable dating girls so it was a very secretive relationship.

At a party one night she kissed some guy and I got really upset and ended up kissing one of my friends boyfriend (I know stupid). Anyway that ex-friend then phoned my parents to tell them I was gay and bullied me for saying I was, not fun. Thankfully my parents were supportive, but being a family that don’t talk about relationships I had no idea how they were going to react.

I am so thankful to come from a supportive family, and to have had some supportive friends who helped me through this. It was a traumatic experience for a 17 year old.

Anyway, when I went to uni I feel in love with a guy, which was definitely a shock for someone who thought she was very gay. I had to then come out to all my friends and family again it was pretty funny! I had never really thought of bisexuality as a thing until then!!

Freakin Awesome

I’ve always knew I was not like other girls when I was little. Never really got into barbie dolls and all the girly things. I always liked what they boys liked. It wasn’t until high school that I realized that I liked girls and it really threw me off. At that time is when Prop 8 was getting introduced and people were fighting for their right to marry their partners. Something about seeing that and being devastated because that’s how I felt. One day I want to be married and have kids but people saw someone marrying someone of the same sex wrong, so I suppressed who I was. Then 2016 came along and I was really fighting my demons on who I was and who I loved. I looked myself in the mirror and finally came to terms that I love women and that I’m normal and like everyone else. I told my siblings and they support me 100%. I haven’t told my parents and probably never will but it is what it is. I don’t need that negativity from them. My name is Jenell and I’m proud to say that I’m a lesbian and I love women

#OutIsTheNewIn