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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Lesbian

i guess i knew i wasnt straight when i was watching greys anatomy and started liking amelia shepherd and lexie grey a little too much. i sort of obsessed over them and realized that wasn’t a thing straight girls did. i tried calling myself bisexual and it worked for a while, but eventually i realized i didn’t really like men the same way i like women. i told one of my close friends, and she encouraged me to tell my other friends. a year and five months ago i came out to my sister, and she said she wasn’t surprised. two weeks later i started dating one of my best friends, and we’ve been together for a little over a year and four months. then, 8 months ago, i came out to my mom. she wasn’t thrilled about me dating at 14, but she really didn’t care that i was gay. now she makes gay jokes with me and tells me to invite my girlfriend over for dinner. i’m glad i got the courage to come out, and im insanely grateful to my family for being so accepting and okay with it. so here i am, typing my story into a website. my name is hannah, i’m 15 years old, and i’m a proud lesbian.

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.

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.

I am a 25 year old Gay Woman – content warning: this coming out story contains discussion of an abusive relationship

As a teenager I always thought that something was amiss as I used to enjoy the company more of women than I did men. I could have a laugh more with guys but with women I connected more with them and was always so shy whenever someone would speak to me. I pushed my feelings down as I thought I was pretty young and just concentrated on my schoolwork. It wasn’t until I started football (I live in England) when I was 14 and was immediately drawn to one of the girls on my team. We used to speak constantly outside of football and always be at each other’s houses. The feelings grew more and more and when I couldn’t see them, I used to wonder why I would get so upset about it. It wasn’t until a few months after playing football that I realised I liked her more than a friend and lucky for me she felt the exact same. But because we were so young, we wanted to keep it to ourselves, from our families and our friends. At first, I was completely ok with that as I was coming to terms with it myself and was getting used to being with a woman for the first time. After 2 years of being a couple in secret I felt I was ready to tell my family and friends as everyone always used to ask me if things were what they seemed, but I used to deny them. But she still didn’t want anyone to know and I was in a different place to her as to how I felt, and this caused a massive problem for us both to the point she no longer wanted to be with me. This break my heart, but it also made me stronger as I had the courage to tell a select few of my closest friends what had been happening. I cried to the point the literally just kept hugging me saying everything was going to be fine and that they accepted me for who I was. It wasn’t until a year or 2 after this that I came out to my parents, in the meantime I was dating and got used to this new normal for me. I had a bad relationship after who was controlling and turned me into a person that wasn’t me. This was when me coming out to my parents happened. I was friends with two people who had recently split up with each other, one of them was with me and other came round to give them something of theirs (I was the one to open the door) as I came back in my dad was sat next to my friend and he asked me if that was my girlfriend (trying to have a joke) I replied with no. He then asked me if I was actually gay after asking me a million times previously and me denying each one, and without any hesitation or thought process I literally said yes. He thought I was joking at first and I said that no I actually am. My sisters came running downstairs at this point with pure excitement because I had finally admitted that I was gay. Everyone was so supportive and the only things my parents said to me was they were disappointed I never told them before. It was such a huge relief to have such a positive reaction. All of my family followed with me coming out to them and one by one they all said they already knew I was but was waiting for me to say something. After this I was relieved, I could finally be myself and express myself in a way I have always wanted. I was able to talk about things more and not have to hide any part of me from the world. It hasn’t always been plain sailing as my previous partner who I was with for three years, I was blind to see was abusive in many forms. Mentally and towards the end was physical. Still till this day has had lasting effects of me having to go through countless therapies to get myself on track and recover from having anxiety and depression ever since. I am finally on the mend and I am now with my amazing partner who everyday helps me heal and encourages me to go for my goals that I set out for myself. She continues show and give me the love I have always wanted. Its been 11 years since I first knew I was gay and I’ve never been happier.

From Fear to Pride

According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.

Queer all the way

I realised when I was 29. But this was a cognitive type of realising as my heart already knew for a long time. I grew up watching straight couples in movies and tv-shows. These were the characters the viewer was supposed to identify with. I tried dating men and everybody around me just assumed I was heterosexual. I dated men who I thought were intelligent, attractive and kind. But my heart always said NO. One day a bisexual woman told me about her journey. Her story liberated something inside of me. I opened up… to myself, to the world and to new ideas. How could I not have seen that I was into women all the time? Yes, I like girls! This is me!

Bi work in progress

I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.

Confidence……Sexual confidence

Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.

Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.

Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.

The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?

Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.

With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.

Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.

Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.

I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.

WHY?

I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.

That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.

Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.

The was it.

No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.

Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.

With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.

This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.

Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.

Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.

Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?

The answer…….

CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.

The Right People Will Always Stand By You

I knew when I was 14 that I was a lesbian. I actually had a friend in the LGBTQIA+ community that I had talked about for a while. When I was questioning my sexuality and trying to understand why I was feeling disconnected from all the girls talking about the Hemsworth brothers. We would be up at night, and he would just ask me questions. “What attracts you to a person? What do you imagine your partner to look like? What type of people catches your eye? Is there someone that you like now?” It just helped to have someone asking and just listening. A year later, as a kind of joke later when I was telling him about the people that I’ve told, he said, “You never officially told me you’re a lesbian.” Anyone who studied the performative understands where this is a little funny. He has just been such a great rock for me, and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

I came out to people in so many different ways. I told someone at dinner at IHOP. A friend I already came out to gave me an opening, and I said, “I haven’t told my parents this yet, but I’m gay.” She didn’t make any jokes or say, “I hope you aren’t trying to make a move on me” or anything like that. She was just supportive, and I could not ask for better friends in my life. It became a game of who have I told and who can they say things in front of. I sent someone Ally Hill’s Coming Out song, others from texts, during ice skating, and now just from passing comments rather than me announcing it to everyone.

The person I was most scared to tell was a teacher that became more of a friend over the years. I wanted to tell her because she saved me from myself and gave me the best chemistry education I could ask for. As she was my teacher, she couldn’t discuss her stance on things, so I had no idea how she would react. She moved schools, and I felt like telling her deserved more than an email, so I waited for when she visited, and I gave her a letter. It explained I was gay when I knew why I wanted to tell her, and why I am so scared. She emailed me later and said, “there is nothing you can do or say that will make me love you any less, ok?” It just made me feel like everything is ok and that I’m not going to lose someone over this part of me.

I tell people that I feel are important in my life, and I refuse to tell people that would put me in a bad situation or disregard it in any way. I’m 17, and I haven’t told anyone in my family, but I’ve told the people that I feel comfortable with it. Coming out will be something constant, and everyone has the right to come out when and how they want. There is no time frame and no expectations other than being authentically you. I’ve had a very positive coming out experience. Still, a lot of people don’t have that, and I want people to know that you will always have this community in your corner. You’re not alone, and we will all be here for you.

No More Pretending

Funnily enough, when I was about 6 I told my sister that I was gonna grow up to be a lesbian. It was naturally laughed at by her and the rest of my family. Fast forward, looking back at high school, my friendships were all close with my female friends, particularly touchy, and I would occasionally be jealous of their relationships (even when in my own). I played it off though, just me being a needy friend. When I got to college, everything changed. I met out queer people, one of which was my roommate and one of my favorite people on this earth. She introduced me to media and the community (and funnily enough, Wynonna Earp nearly a year ago now). And it was like my entire world opened up, and I realized I was bi. And that was crazy to me, how I had been missing this huge part of myself. How everything finally clicked into place.

I was opened to the community and all of the beautiful people in it. And I finally put myself out there. I was out to everyone at school, and nearly all my friends at home as well. But it took me even longer to come out to my family. I told my brother first, his response (and my favorite by far) was “Well, I also love women so we have even more in common now.” Coming out to my mom and sister was harder. It was immediately met with “Are you sure?” “Don’t label yourself.” “I thought I liked women at one point too.” and many other cliche lines that I never thought I would actually be hearing. Eventually, my sister came around, and even my mom to an extent. They both support me and love me, and that is something I am very grateful for. However, my coming out was met with a “But play it straight around your father.”

And finally, after coming out to them, I started dating my first girlfriend, and I was absolutely in love with her. But it also led to probably one of the worst experiences in my life. While planning a trip home to see her, my mom decided that after months of telling me to “play it straight” that she would take it upon herself to tell my dad about my sexuality. Only 5 days after I had left for my third year of college. Which led to the absolute worst phone call of my life with a very angry father and some of the most hurtful words I had ever had spoken to me, with the phrase “You’re not gay.” Yelled over and over.

The sarcastic person in me so badly wanted to reply, “You’re right, I’m not gay. I’m bisexual.” But I don’t think I could’ve landed it with confidence over the way I was feeling in that moment.

Eventually, the relationship ended, and me and the girl went our separate ways. The response from my father being “Thank god that’s over”, while I was experiencing heartbreak for the first time. Luckily, by that point, my mom had learned a lot and was there to have my back and reaffirm that I am who I am, regardless of my relationship status.

And now, nearly a year and a half later, I am proudly out to anyone and everyone in my life. Whether they accept me or not, I have no care in the world. I love men and women and I decided that I wasn’t going to hide it for a second longer than I already had. I am proud to be bisexual and a part of this incredible queer community. I love you all. #OutIsTheNewIn

On my way, hoping to get there soon… kd

I guess I always knew way back when I was a kid, but I had no idea what it was and why I felt that way. I just wasn’t what was deemed “normal”. I started acknowledging it for myself as I was going through adolescence and all throughout college and then sort of embraced it after graduation. But to be honest, I still don’t feel safe or free – as I wish I could be – to declare my truth. To some I am able to tell them, while to most I keep quiet… either way, I am never without fear of being rejected or seen differently, like I become a different person from the one they’ve come to know as soon as I confirm what they probably already thought. I still fear that I will never be taken seriously professionally or deserving of the same respect as a person just because of who I am. I am still afraid but I am also hopeful that one day, I’d get there – where I am free to just be me and no longer afraid.