Community Rainbow Waves

My chest comes out

I knew from a very young age that I liked girls, and the truth was something that terrified me.
Luckily I have had some very nice friends who have given me their support, my family has no problems with LGBTIQ+ people, but I haven’t come out of the wardrobe either because I don’t feel it’s the right time to do so.

The problem has never been what I like, but how I feel.

I have memories of when I was a child and I never felt attached to the things that were supposed to be for my sex, I just didn’t feel comfortable being what a woman is supposed to be. So when I started to notice my chest growing, I just started to shut down.

My first boyfriend was FTM, hearing him talk about how he felt was comfortable for me, I even thought “Maybe I’m like that too, maybe I’m a guy” but after going around and around that idea I realized that no, my only problem has always been my breast.

But it’s just in these times of quarantine that I’ve had the most time to question what I want to be, or rather, who I am.

My identity problem has made me move away from my friends, simply because I don’t want to bring them into this subject, and not knowing what’s happening to me, it’s not easy for me to talk about it, nor do I feel that I should bring them into my internal struggle.

So writing this here, which I am sure and confident is a free space, is comforting and even liberating.

I just keep swimming and losing myself in my thoughts, trying to discover and learn more about myself, hoping that I am not the only person with this kind of “dysphoria”.
Maybe I just have to be me and ignore it, appreciate what I have and love myself as I am, it’s hard, but I can’t sink.

Funny

I always knew I was a little different. I was the off athlete, the friend left out, the person who could always make everyone else laugh and happy however it was the biggest mission to get me to laugh, enjoy what I was doing. I found an environment at work where I just become friends with people because I felt alright to be around. Than one year, one day, one person came and joined our work. Straight away we were the same!, same interests, same think a like, same almost everything, It was just someone I felt it was not hard to talk to. We instantly became friends time passed and we were best friends but little things started to change. I’d want to tell her everything, I wanted her oppion, we couldn’t not talk to each everyday, I wanted to be around her. Small part of the good thing we had developed started to explode from types of family matters. But we chose to stick around for each other. This lead to a moment that I can never forgot. This girl kissed me, she’s kissed me. And from than on we’ve had family issues on her side, But my families accepted us together and she is part of my family. But we always stick together. we have had each other for almost 4ish year. Been Together for 2years. But it’s made me realise when you find 1 person who your able to be vulnerable, happy, sad, angry, loved, in 1 person than it doesn’t matter what’s stated on a birth certificate what matters is what they are to you. So at the age of 21 – I am out.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

Lesbian

I have known I was gay my entire life. I grew up with an accepting mom, but the rest of my family was not as accepting. I didn’t tell a soul until I was in middle school. I told one of my closest friends, and she was very accepting. This was helpful for me but unfortunately she left the school a few months after I told her. I felt more alone than ever. My mental health was horrible. My anxiety was out of control and I become quite depressed. I was ecxited for highschool as I thought it was going to be an opportunity to finally be myself. Unfortunately that ended up not being the case. I become friends with people who were not accepting of the LGBTQ community. This largely affected me as I started thinking I was wrong for liking girls. I tried really hard to like boys. I coundnt think about anything else, I started self harming. It was the lowest point in my life. I then met a girl who changed my life. She was in the same grade, and we become close friends. We spent all our time together. I realized I had feelings for her but was ashamed. One day she told me she had feelings for me. I was so happy that she felt the dame way. We started dating, and finally told my mom everything. I hit help for my mental health and made a decision to be myself no matter what. I git friends who accept me for me. I am now the happiest I have been in my life. I realized that I am me, and that j can change who I am. I also want to add in here that Dom has helped me greatly. I have looked up to you ever since I saw the first episode of wynnona earp. You are a truly beautiful person who is saving peoples lives. I hope my story can help someone as I wish I would have had someone to help me.

A 30-something year old whose journey took her from bisexual to lesbian to queer to not needing a label at all.

This story starts from the very beginning, so prepare yourself for a roller coaster.

Growing Up

Growing up as an only child, I was pretty dependent on my friends to get me through the day. If there was ever a rift in my group, it left me with a horrible feeling inside, as if I could show up the next day and be shunned from our usual bench at lunch. (My fear of abandonment is still real today, but in grade school, you were a loser if you didn’t bring the type of Lunchables that people wanted to trade you for or share with you. Social suicide at such a tender age. Kids are cruel.) So to keep my “social status”, I practically begged my parents to get me the lunches that the cool 10-year-olds ate, with fruit-by-the-foot and Mondo. After surviving the playground, my afternoons consisted of playing sports. Once I could start trying out for the teams in 5th grade, that’s all I wanted to do. I’d save the candies from my Lunchables and bring them to practice to share…with the popular (attractive – because society shamefully says that attractive=popular) girls. I’d pay attention whether they took the chocolate or the candy, which flavor Warhead was their favorite, etc. all in an attempt to talk to them as much as I could. Back then, I saw this as me just wanting them to like me because they were popular and everyone wanted to hang out with them. I knew nothing at this point other than I got severely jealous of their close friends, boyfriends, etc. Again, an awful feeling. It wasn’t until I got to high school that I started to put the pieces together.

High School

In high school, I continued to devote most of my time to schoolwork and basketball, and my teammates were again my best friends – one of them becoming my first girlfriend my sophomore year. Trust me, the irony is not beyond me. This relationship was my first real relationship, so many “firsts” came along with it: first physical/emotional/sexual experiences with a girl, first love, first breakup-and-makeup, first long-term relationship. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years, on and off, and it was such a whirlwind of a relationship. I was 15 years old, completely immersed, everything heightened and everything intense. The feelings, the arguments, the learning, the growing. It truly was a relationship fueled by the unknown mixed with teenage angst, which needless to say caused tension between me and my family because we were both “in the closet” at the time and I couldn’t tell them all the things I was going through. We went through several breaks and rekindlings, that when we approached the end of the relationship within the first maybe 1 ½ years of college, it grew to be unhealthy for the both of us. This is not to say that the good times we had weren’t really good, because they were, but all-in-all, I had outgrown it and was turning into someone I wasn’t quite fond of.

College

I met my second girlfriend in my second year of college, during my “divorce” period with my first girlfriend. I call this a “divorce” because I feel like it took a few months to “finalize” the breakup and detach myself completely. This proved more difficult than I anticipated because potential-Girlfriend-#2 was a roommate of one of Girlfriend #1’s friends, so we were still running in the same circles. Once I was officially out of relationship #1 and in relationship #2, we moved in together and this took my experiences to a whole new level – cohabitation can either make you or break you and it definitely made us. We didn’t have too many hiccups, until I hit a huge speedbump: my dad confronted me about my sexuality. I was 19 years old. Again, we were both still “in the closet” and it was terrifying.

Coming Out – Part 1

My dad asked me to go to the grocery store with him one Saturday afternoon. This would have been a normal occurrence IF 1) he didn’t tell me to get in the car the moment my mom started running her shower, AND 2) if he didn’t take the absolute longest, roundabout way to get to the grocery store. Once he parked the car, he jumped right into it. He asked who insert screenname here was (he already knew), how long we’ve been together, and if my mom knew. His spitfire questions got my spitfire answers: “Girlfriend #2”, 1 ½ years at this point, no she doesn’t know.” My face never seemed to get the memo from my brain to remain calm, so my panic shined right through. My dad’s response: he immediately put his hand on my knee, told me to look at him, and said “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to panic. I just suggest you don’t tell your mom yet because we both know that she won’t be as cool about this as I am. Now let’s get some shopping done.”

With my hands still shaking, we went into the store and went on business as usual. My dad, being the extremely blunt unfiltered person he is, proceeded to randomly ask me inappropriate questions about my relationship, drill in the point of me needing to delete my profile from the home computer so all evidence was gone, and said that if I didn’t do it the moment we got home, he would ask me more inappropriate questions and force me to answer them. “Blackmailed” by my own father.

I didn’t think it would ever go this way. I didn’t have a plan, I hadn’t thought about coming out yet, I was just being the kid-away-at-college and figuring things out as they came along. I mean, to me, this relationship with Girlfriend #2 was kind of still “new” compared to my first relationship. I have to admit though, even without having a formal sit-down with him, a coming out announcement, or anything out of my own choice really, the weight that lifted off my chest was so much greater than I anticipated it to ever be. I finally had a parent I didn’t feel I had to hide all my gritty life details from.

“Adulthood”

Girlfriend #2 and I moved back to our respective homes after being away at college, and things started going awry less than a year later. No longer being able to rely on “cohabitation making us”, we started growing apart. The want to visit each other, Skype, and even text throughout the day like we used to dwindled. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years (similar to my first relationship), but the relationship was becoming one-sided and it wasn’t fair anymore. I hate to say that fighting for it wasn’t worth it anymore, but it’s the truth. We were at different points in our lives, wanting different things for our future, but although I won’t go into the details (because that’s not the point here), all-in-all, it ended amicably.

I took a break from all the seriousness for a few months, focused on my hometown friendships, went on a few (failed) dates, but really just honed in on regaining my individuality. I was 24 years old, juggling my first job as an undergraduate and being a new furmom. Things were really coming back together, in their devil-may-care fashion, and I managed.

And then there was Shedonism – Las Vegas Pride, where I first met Girlfriend #3, my current and god willing my last. Long story kind-of-short, we met through mutual friends from LA and Sacramento, we said maybe a handful of words to each other in Vegas, went home after the event, I texted her 2 weeks later on her birthday, and it was all downhill from there. We talked daily at all hours, officially got together 6 months later, and have been together ever since. We did the long-distance thing for about 1 ½ years and here we are now, living together in LA with 2 dogs, just 4 months shy of our 5 year anniversary celebration, and I’ve never been happier. I could gush about this girl, but I’ll save you guys from that, but I just want to say that it works. It all just works. The present, the future, everything. But no matter how great and grown and comfortable I’ve been in the relationship, I still had a huge chip on my shoulder: I still had to come out to my mom. I am 29 years old, and disappointing my parents is still (and will always be) such a huge deal. But I did it, and I wasn’t alone, and it changed my life.

Coming Out – Part 2

Friday, October 28, 2016 – The day I took the most nerve-wracking risk of my life (and the longest and most crucial).
So this plan had been brewing for almost a year. I originally wanted to come out to my mom around last New Year’s, but it just wasn’t the right time. I thought so long and hard about the various ways to do it because this was probably the most important thing I was ever going to do. I was finally going to be able to plan for this and do this after so many years. I could tell her in one of our daily phone calls or texts, pony up and tell her in person in a very public place to avoid the meltdown, have my dad tell her since he’s known for 9 years, or write her a letter. I opted for the letter. I felt that if I wrote it all down in a letter, no matter how long it was, it would result in some of the weight lifting off of me AND allow me to lay absolutely everything on the table for my mom to absorb. My dad, naturally, wasn’t a fan of the idea, saying “that’s like breaking up with someone via text. I think you should do it in person,” even though I explained to him that I really didn’t think I had it in me to have an impromptu sit-down. I wrote the letter anyway and left it for her to see the next morning at my grandma’s gravesite (for other personal reasons).
Anyway, I was due to visit my parents, and since they get home around the same time, you can imagine how my plan quickly devolved into not my plan at all.
My mom and I moved about the house, my dad comes in, and says “Mom, sit down, your daughter wants to talk to you.” Cue heart attack. I’ve never glared so hard at someone EVER while I said “No dad, I don’t. I REALLY don’t.” At this point, my mom is now starting to panic. My dad then looks at me, says “You’re going to hate me for this, but…”, turns to my mom and says “Your daughter’s ‘roommate’ dates women, and so does she.” Cue heart attack #2 and blackout. What’s a girl to do now that her plan had been hijacked a day earlier than expected? I held onto my consciousness as best as I could and went to sit opposite my mother. Yikes.

The first words out of her mouth were the most heart-wrenching. A phrase a child never wants to hear out of a parent’s mouth:

“I’m disappointed in you.”

I nodded my head and gave her the floor. The next phrases played like a broken record before I’d even said a word.

“Never in a million years did I think my own daughter was going to tell me this.”

And then the parental denial:

“I prayed every night that this day would never come.”

(I complimented her motherly instinct in the letter – I knew she had it in her.)

By this time, my dad is unexpectedly sitting next to me, and as much as I hated him for blowing up my plan, I am so grateful for him right now. I began by telling my mom “I’d been in 3 long-term relationships in the last 14 years, my current relationship consisting of the last 4 ½ years (funny how this number keeps coming up). I’m so tired of hiding myself and my relationships from you and this family. I’m exhausted. My dreams for my future haven’t changed: I still want that house with a white picket fence, be pregnant, have kids, and get married, which now I can, it just won’t be to a man. I’m so happy with how my life turned out, and I’m so lucky because I’ve never been bullied or put down and my friendships are so much stronger now. I’m one of the lucky ones! But it sucked having to go through every relationship and breakup I’ve had and been too scared to tell my own mother about them so that she could help me through everything.”

“The future I wanted for you was for you to find a man who would treat you as the great girl you are, get married, and have a family together. That’s what a family is.”

My dad chimes in immediately, saying “She has found someone who treats her well and makes her happy. I’ve known for several years now, and in the grand scheme of things, this is no big deal. She’s still going to get married and have kids. Your job now as her mother is to love her, not judge her, accept it and move on. She is the same loving daughter you’ve always had. Nothing has changed that.”

Now I’m crying, and I’m not sure if it’s from my mom’s comments or from the shock of witnessing for the first time my dad’s verbal unwavering support. Fast-forward through the next 20 minutes of repeated comments, my mom then has to leave to pick up a family member from work. I turned to my dad after she’s left, and said “Well, I suppose that went as expected…when I get married some time down the road, I’d appreciate it if both of you would walk me down the aisle. I’ll take one, but both would be preferable.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye, “Look, I’d prefer you to date men, but I know that’s not going to happen. You are the way you are, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy. That’s all there is to it. If your mom is going to be upset at you or your girlfriend or anyone for that matter, that’s her problem. I don’t give a shit about anything else. We’re all just people.”

My hero.

Coming to the end of this story now, my mom and I went through 4 days of radio silence, which equaled an eternity since she has text me or called me several times a day since I went away to college. Per my request, she did still read the letter I wrote for her, and we spoke about it while my dad was out of town. I took this chance to stand my ground more firmly, profess that I’m no longer a child, this is not a phase, and this is truly and fully who I am. It has been 3 weeks since “D-Day” and life is…well life I suppose. I’m still a little freaked out that we might just be on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I will take what I can get, and my mom still loves me and hugs me hello and goodbye whenever I see her.

The relief alone feels like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It could have gone a lot worse, and I’m slightly shocked that I am one of the lucky ones. It breaks my heart that so many people out there will not have their story play out as successfully as I did. No matter how old you are, no matter what path of life you are on, the most important things I can say to you are: Trust those close to your heart and embrace them and thank them always for being there for you. Trust yourself especially, because that is who you will always have. Be so unapologetically yourself, and demand respect in the purest way you know how. Please please please stay safe, stay mindful, and only do things you are comfortable doing. You know YOU best, so you’ll know when the time is right.

This is my story, and now I can honestly say it gets better.

Fast-forward 4 years: I am 33 years old, living in Sacramento with 2 furkids, and Girlfriend #3 became my fiancé! Even though we are in the middle of a godforsaken pandemic, I have to say my home life is pretty great and it still gets better and better.

Under The Same Sky

Salaam from your kazah nomadic wanderer, who finally has found her place in Turkey.

Please do not blame me for my pretentious greeting, it is only a slight whiff of those feelings and sensations that live in my heart (in positive tone, of course 🙂

The overemotional part of me, having overcome the thorny path of finding myself, looking back, can say with a big smile on my lips that it was a long way back and really hard.

There is no greater happiness than being yourself. To be able to breathe freely and not be afraid to confess your feelings to someone who excites your soul so much that your heart skips a beat every time you catch a familiar face on the rearview mirror of your car.

You can deceive everyone around you for an endless time, and sometimes play this role so convincingly that you begin to believe it yourself.

But even so, no one has the right to judge you. Because no one else knows what you went through or are still going through. Only you decide how to live: rise up and fly high in the sky freely, like a bird, or sit in a dusty closet, where it is dark and damp. This is your choice. There are different circumstances and everyone has their own reasons.

I am 33 years old, I am from Kazakhstan and I am a lesbian.

I have always known about my orientation since kindergarten. But even when I grew up and went to elementary and then high school, even after I entered the adolescent phase, I never spoke openly about myself. Never to anyone. At University, there was a moment when I told my friend about my orientation and she stopped communicating with me. Then I decided to just not stand out from the crowd and be like everyone else. Just like the others.

We live among people who are so used to putting labels on everyone and everything that if someone doesn’t live up to their expectations or does not meet their ideas of “normality”, they immediately turn into outcasts.

We live in an environment where society sets the rules and dictates what is “normal” and what is”abnormal”.

We live in a World where money and status have become more important than the mental health. Where real life and colors of nature are erased in the glossy pages of social network. Where the individuality and uniqueness of individuals are distorted under the forced images of imaginary saints.

This is how we live. I lived in such an environment, socialized with such people and tried so hard to match their scale of normality that I began to lose myself. After a while, I didn’t know where I really was, and I couldn’t tell my real self from the image I had created for the public.

Yes, I had a cool job with a high salary. Yes, I had “friends” with whom I spent time, had fun and talked about abstruse topics. Yes, guys were interested in me, asked me out on dates and even confessed their love. Hoy, but I wasn’t interested. So yeah, I really thought I was asexual 🙂 And I didn’t have the most important thing – happiness.

I was just a pale reflection of other people’s emotions and feelings, and deep down I was always alone. Loneliness and I became best friends. During the day I put on my loneliness like a shirt, and during the long cold nights it wrapped me like a plaid. When my circle was celebrating holidays and having fun to the fullest, there were none of those faces who knew the real me. Nobody. The saddest thing is to feel completely alone when you are surrounded by people. This is the price of your obedience.

I was unhappy. How can you be happy if the light of your soul is muted, and there are no colors in the palette that you would like to paint the canvas of your life with?

Until I met Her. An unexpected meeting on a sunny autumn day that turned my whole world upside down. Our friends thought we were just colleagues. Our families thought we were just friends. I don’t know what I was to Her, but to me, She is my favorite topic of conversation with the Heavens for all eternity. No, I am not religious. I just believe in miracles, in the rainbow unicorn and in Sailor Moon 🙂

For the first time, I felt what it was like to be truly happy. And then I didn’t want to and couldn’t live the way I had before I met Her.

I found wings to soar above the images of public opinion about “normality.” I got my voice back to say: “Hey, I’ve had enough of this shit! (pardon my French). Now, I will be myself”. I found the will to change my life and live in full colors. I accepted myself and found freedom. Yup, the number of acquaintances and friends has decreased. But the PLUS is that the atmosphere has become friendly.

Maybe your feelings will be one-sided or vice versa, you will be among the lucky ones who reciprocated (woohoo, congratulations dude!). Or maybe you haven’t met your soulmate yet and you’re not in a relationship right now. It is all right, sooner or later you will catch your wave 🙂

After all, to be able to openly talk about your feelings, about yourself and your dream means to have equal rights.

Equal rights to be yourself, to love and not to be afraid that you will come under the pressure of public hatred for WHO YOU ARE.

Someone will understand you and support you, someone will turn away and stop communicating with you. It is OK, everything will be fine. You are not alone! Here WE are, your rainbow soulmates 🙂

I am not asking for special treatment. I am just asking for equal treatment. To live. To be who I am. To love..

Sometimes words just aren’t enough to describe all your love. Sometimes a smile just isn’t enough to express that love. Hiding my feelings in a veil of lies, I don’t understand what is real and what is fiction. I choose to live under the same sky and enjoy a sunny day, speak openly, smile in front of everyone and hug when it snows or walk next to my loved one in the rain.. Always in this way.

When you are really happy, your soul shines so brightly that your heart becomes so warm. It is like you can embrace the whole World!

Na’vi from the planet Pandora greet each other with “I See You”, which means “I see the real you, not what you seem” (thank you, James Cameron). I see into you. And I understand you. Guys, I SEE YOU! Let’s be kind to each other. Let’s make a better World for you, for me, for ALL of US!

One meeting can change your life. One voice can change the World. One good thing can change Everything.

Be yourself. Be free. Be happy.

Much love and “may the Force be with you”!

#underthesamesky

Always be myself

I realized in high school that I wasn’t attracted to boys, I went to catholic school though, so I kept up a facade. I started seeing females during college. I never really had a “coming out” story, I just kinda came home with a girlfriend one day & that was it. My sisters didn’t care, they love me no matter what. My parents are ok with it, but my mom still occasionally makes comments about dating one of my guy friends, while I do love him, I don’t love him like that. I’ve had my ups & downs with relationships, my 1st one was abusive. Then I was not so no eat with my next & I did cheat. My most recent one was 7 years, it ended back in October, she left me for a friend of a friend, they’d known each other like a month & got married a week after she left me. Since then I’ve been taking time for me, get back in touch with myself, what I want, what’s important, & right now, for me, my family & friends are most important. I lost touch with 2 of my best friends because of my ex, but I got back in touch with them & that’s the best decision I’ve made.
I’m so proud of you Dom for coming out, you are a beautiful person both inside and out. Always be yourself

I’m Emma and a proud young gay woman.

To be honest I never thought of sending in my story purely because I feel as though it’s boring but then I figured, we all have a story and they are all beautiful and unique to us, so why not tell it?
There were definitely many hints from a very early age that I was queer. Since primary school I was always very shy and awkward around girls and found it easier to be friends with boys and became quite confused when around my own gender, like there was something “off” about me when I was around them. In turn I ended up trying to become more like a “boy”. I dressed in “boy” clothes and joined in with the “boy” activities and subsequently started questioning if what was “off” about me was that I just wanted to be a boy.
This went on for a fair few years until secondary school where I realised I was actually happy being a girl but still not feeling comfortable around them or just having feelings when around them that I couldn’t understand.
Later on in secondary school I had a friend who came out as bisexual and as a lot of things in schools, that news travelled fast and many people were judgemental. To this day I remember the pit in my stomach I would feel every time I heard someone make a hurtful remark regarding it. Looking back, I think hearing those kinds of things held me back from discovering who I was. I became fearful of having anything to do with the LGBTQ+ community and so I stopped questioning anything to do with me and how I felt around girls. I tried to find boys that I thought were cute and wouldn’t mind dating because that’s what was “normal” and what no one else frowned upon or judged but it just never felt right to me. I remember thinking that this can’t be what love feels like. Surely it doesn’t feel so forced. But still not allowing myself to open up to any ideas of me being anything other than straight. Until a while later after I had graduated from school.
I was 17 and found myself amongst many LGBTQ+ people online and even made a couple friends who were gay and one day one these friends questioned me about if I was sure I was straight and I’ll never forget that pit returning to my stomach and my face feeling so hot and telling her that I wasn’t sure at all. That was the beginning of it for me, I started letting myself question and ponder the idea of me not being straight and from then it was very quick that I realised I wasn’t and that all of these feelings of being uncomfortable around girls was because I liked girls and I felt like that was wrong so I felt uncomfortable being near them and I thought about wanting to be a boy because boys could date girls, that’s how we were told it’s meant to be. All of these things suddenly made so much more sense! It was both relieving and terrifying! I was gay. I now knew that but where do I go from here?
For the next few years I just continued living a straight life in person and an out life online and that was fine for a while until I felt like my real life was fake, not even just with my sexuality but my hobbies, my interests, everything was hidden from those physically around me and with already being a highly anxious person, being myself only online was just making me more and more anxious and so I confided in my closest friend and they were so supportive and didn’t judge at all! That was a turning point for me, I felt like I could do this. I can be gay and it can be okay. However, I still felt a bit ashamed of it or a bit like things would be easier if I was straight. Until I was about 19 and a beautiful scene from this show called Wynonna Earp (don’t know if any of you have ever heard of that before?) popped up on my feed one day and I clicked on it and was introduced to Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp. It was Nicole that caught my attention at first, I was so drawn to this strong woman who was gay and so
completely owned it and she wasn’t defined by that At All! It was her that helped me accept my sexuality completely and decide I want to be like her! I want own this part of me and know that I am so many more things than just “a gay person”.
And then a few years down the line the beautiful actresses who play Nicole & Waverly come out as part of LQBTQ+ community and I felt so much joy it was unreal, it’s hard to describe exactly how I felt but the word “safe” is what comes to mind, I felt safe and at ease and through learning more about them off screen and hearing about their journeys, in all aspects has been the biggest gift, I could never thank them enough for all that they have shown and taught me because now I am 23 and exploring all aspects of myself and being my authentic self more and more everyday and finding my authentic self more and more everyday. I don’t hide my sexuality. I’m not ashamed. I love love, in all of the ways it shows itself.

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.

ELIAS

I now am a proud trans* man but the journey to get there has been rough. I remember always feeling like I wasn’t a straight cisgender girl, but I also remember thinking if I ignore it, it will go away.
At age 14 I first saw a lesbian couple on screen. That gave me so much representation and feeling like I wasn’t alone. It really motivated me to come out as gay.
Two years later or something I like that I stumbled upon my first ever representation of a trans* man and I was so shocked to learn that trans* man existed. That may have been like that, because (especially in german/Austrian media) they only show trans* woman and they mostly do it for the sole reason to mock the community so I wasn’t really fond of that.
At the time I saw a trans* man in media for the first time I thought to myself I may be gender queer. I identified as gender queer for two years, before I came to the conclusion, that I myself was a trans* man. I’ve been out and proud as a trans* man for a little less than two years now (July 2020) and it was the best decision I could have ever made. I feel so much more like myself.
And to make it easier for people who might feel the same way I am fighting for more trans* (especially trans* male) representation in the media. You are not alone!