Community Rainbow Waves

Barbara

I think I’ve always known that I am a lesbian. When I was 14 years old I already had my first girlfriend. I enthusiastically told this to my parents, who unfortunately looked at it with slightly different eyes than I did. My mother grew up in a very religious family, so my sexuality didn’t fit the picture. This caused a lot of insecurity for me, and I was bullied at school and this resulted in a period of anxiety attacks. Fortunately my parents now support me in everything. I have learned to accept myself for who I am and I AM surrounded by people who also accept me for who I am. Only when you love yourself and can be yourself can you love someone else and I have been happy with my beautiful girlfriend for 6 years now. So don’t be scared if you love another humanbeing. Just be and love yourself. You have so much to give.

I’m attracted to those who are attracted to me. content warning – this coming out story contains discussion and/or mention of sexual assault and self-harming behaviour

I really struggled with my sexuality growing up. I was surrounded by boys and all I wanted to be was like my older brothers. I’d steal their clothes growing up so I could dress like a boy. I sometimes wondered if I was supposed to be one. I was sexually assaulted at a young age by someone close to me. Just typing that causes so much anxiety and shame that I know I shouldn’t feel, but I’ve never got the help that I should have and very few people in my life have been told the full story.
Over the years, I was openly attracted to boys and even had a few crushes. Under the surface there was always one girl that I would be attracted to, at different stages of my life. There was a girl during elementary, then one during middle school and high school, and then another during and after college. All of these girls identified as straight, but I was closer to them than anyone else. They had the power to determine my moods on a frightening level. It got worse as I got older. I still continued to have crushes and other feelings towards boys too, and I was much more vocal about these feelings.
When I got to college I developed a very close and affectionate, but slightly unhealthy relationship with a girl. Nothing sexual ever happened, but I became very dependent on her and this is where the frightening mood swings would come in.
I would never get violent with anyone but myself. When I spoke about her to others it would be met with questions of if I liked girls. I would say no and try to rationalize my thoughts and feelings.
I got some space from this girl, and although it took me a long time, I eventually became less dependent on her and she had less influence on my moods. It took several more years for me to come to terms that I might be bisexual, and then I realized more recently that I’m probably more Pansexual. It was actually while watching Wynonna Earp and shipping #Wayhaught that I became more aware and comfortable with coming to those realizations enough to share them with my friends. I haven’t come out and told my family directly, but I’ve said it in other ways. Everyday I try to accept myself a little bit more for who I am. My biggest struggle now is learning to love myself in every aspect, including my looks, and finding the strength and discipline to change/improve what I don’t like about myself.

Victhoria – Brazil

My name is Victhoria and I currently live in Brazil!

I came out has lesbian when I was 17 years old.
I’ve always knew I’d liked girls from a very young age, but growing up in a religious family, I tried to hide and suppressed those feelings.

I tried to date boys but I didn’t feel right, I just couldn’t carry a relationship with boys, so when I was 15 I had my first gay experience and then I understood what was that I felt and start to find myself.

When I came out to my family it was the most scary and brave thing that I’ve ever done.
It was hard at first, but now, thankfully, my family loves and support me and my relationship.

Be true to yourself, it’s a scary path but it’s worth it !

I went through enxiety and panic attacks but when you are true to yourself it’s liberating and free .

To all the people who are afraid to come out, don’t be , there will be people that will love you, support you and accept you for who you are !

Love to all

Larissa

I’m a 30 years old queer cisgender woman that knew from a very young age that I liked girls. However, I didn’t really know that I was a lesbian at that time.
As far as I can remeber I had crushes on girls, but as a kid growing up in the northeast of Brazil (a very “tradicional” region) I had no queer references whatsoever. I just knew that girls were suppost to like boys, so I faked it, throughout my entire adolescence. I dated boys and kisses a lot of them so that no one would suspect that I was actually in love with a girl friend.
It was only when I went to college in another state across the country that I had the courage to try to kiss a girl. In a traditional Brazilian festivity, carnaval, I kissed a girl for the first time and that made me realize how much I wanted to do that for my entire life. Since It was a party and there was a lot of alchool involved none of my friends said much about It, and I actually ended up with some other guys for almost an year before finally having the guts to admit first to my self, that I was definitely not into guys.
It was watching shows with queer characters that helped me build the stregnth to come out, in special Naya Rivera’s Santana in Glee. I related so much to her that I started to feel the need to be honest with myself, to stop hiding who I was, that’s when I leaned on my first openly gay friend to start going out more, meeting girls and telling people around me that I was gay. I then came out to my childhood friends who still lived in my hometown and it was such a releaf to hear them say that they loved just the same. It was time to tell my family. In a visit to my parents house, on a long weekend that my dad was way I told my mother. Her reaction was as far from undestanding as it could possibly be, she didn’t speak to me again for several months. As I left the very next day, heart broken, I didn’t really know what to do next. My mother told my older sister who called me and said that my mom was devasted, crying all the time and not eating, begging me to go to a therapist. I knew that they were expecting me to be “cured” by this therapist but I went anyway to try to make amends. It turned out the therapist was a really nice woman who knew my sister and their intentions and told me at the first session that she wasn’t there to cure me, but to help me cope with everything I was going throutgh. My father was the real light for me at that time, he asked me to have patience with my mom, that she was taking it pretty hard but was trying to be better for me and that he would love me for the both of them until then.
A lot of scars had to heal before I started to feel whole again and be proud of who I am, but as I was going through all of this with my mom I kept reminding myself that I needed to treat her with the same love and acceptence that I expected to get from her. Now, eight year later, she has come a long way. It took patience and love, but most importantly I knew I wasn’t alone.

On my way, hoping to get there soon…

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.

Be Brave

Growing up in an academic focused, traditional Asian family, my ‘path’ had always felt like it was mapped out for me. I knew who I was suppose to be the minute I knew how to walk. I was a pretty sheltered child and didn’t even know what the term “gay” meant, let alone understanding it. Moving to San Francisco for college was the first real introduction I had to the LGBTQ+ community. Once learning more about the community and understanding my thoughts and feelings, my whole life made so much more sense. I understood why I was so angry at my best friend in high school for hanging out with her boyfriend instead of me. I understood why I go out my way to make certain girls happy. I finally understood why and that scared me. I was different.

I first came out to my college friends as bisexual because I felt like it was easier for them to understand and accept. I wasn’t honest with myself even then. I’m very thankful that I had a group of friends that were very open minded and supportive. Living in SF at the time didn’t hurt either. I eventually came out as a lesbian to my best friend, crying my eyes out because I was finally allowing myself to admit it. Life at that point was good and I was embracing myself and experiencing this new me. But I soon realize I was living a double life. When I’m home I become someone else. I was out to everyone but my immediate family. I stumbled out of the closet to my mom when I was 21 and she kicked me out of the house, claiming that I was disgusting. She was my hero. I thought she going to understand. She didn’t and it broke my heart. I lived most of my life trying to make her proud and I failed her because I was being me.

I went through some of the darkest times of my life then as I was done with this life and it’s disappointments. I wanted a different kind of out. I try to end it all but I survived and that was my true awakening. I started on a whole new journey in finding myself and to be my most authentic self. During this journey I found the love of my life, a smart and beautiful woman who I asked to marry me. Now that I’m older, I decided to give the conversation with my mother another chance. So last Christmas, I came out again to my mom and asked if she would be at my wedding. Her answer was no. It hurts. It’ll always hurt but I came to the realization that I’m not going to sacrifice my happiness for anyone anymore. At the end of the day, I have to be able to live with myself and the person I’m becoming. I’ve learned to be brave and face what’s coming my way with kindness and compassion. Not everyone will understand my truth just like I might not understand theirs. We as human just need to help each other learn the different truths. Hopefully one day, my mom will understand mine.

But I’m now 31 and I’m the happiest and most free I’ve ever been.
Took 10 years but I’m queer, I’m here and that’s MY truth.

Much love, always.
Sandy

To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered

I was going to make up this fake encouraging story to help people in the closet see a story where the journey out isnt always painful and hard. But that’s not my truth. It’s time to stop being ashamed of my past and start being honest of my coming out. Or rather lack there of.

I was outed.

I was outed in a large scale, it could seem small to some but it felt like everything I knew was crashing down on me.

I’ve always been told I feel. I’m a feeler. I feel greatly and deeply. Everything goes in my ears and directly to my heart.

My parents always say they’re so proud I came out so young and not many can do such a thing, they deny their part in my “coming out”. I would do anything for love and affection to the point where I let them believe that’s how it went just for their praise. But this isn’t about them. It’s about me.

My story starts at 12 years old, in 7th grade at a new school. I had sunk so far into myself I’d pushed all my friends away because I thought this world didnt want me. I acted on those thoughts and tried to escape to no avail.

I spent a lot of time at home, watching shows and reading books because relating to the characters gave me a sense that I wasnt alone. Soon enough I’d stumbled upon a show that I’ll never forget, Wynonna Earp. Through that show I learned that girls could love other girls. I soon pondered if I’d felt those feelings aswell. Scared of my own thoughts I turned to my mother, “mom,” I’d said “I think I like girls. Romantically.”

She said I had time to figure it out.

The next thing I know I’m at my dads house he starts talking to me about what I told my mom, I cried myself to sleep that night, my trust so violated.

Soon all my siblings new, my dads new girlfriend too. I tried talking about it with a girl who I’d been best friends with the year before. Suddenly that popular girls at school knew everything. I was terrified in my deeply homophobic school.

That summer I went to a wedding away for a cousin of mine. We were having fun and talking at the rehearsal dinner out on the patio when my dad brought up the fact that I liked girls. Everyone looked at me as I immediately stood up and sprinted into the bushes, I didnt leave for hours sobbing even when it started pouring rain.

I’ve had more than just those experiences, and a few good ones after when I’d actually got to come out.

But even through all that pain, I came out stronger (no pun intended).

Now almost 3 years later I’m an out and proud lesbian, advocating for our community in the ways that I can. At 14 years old, I’ve planned and attended Queer Proms, Attend a Queer Youth Group, Had my own Billboard with a Queer relationship on it in Time Square, Planned a Queer Youth Trivia Night, started a Gender Sexuality Alliance, brought in a Queer Non Binary Public Speaker to educate my homophobic school how to have common decency, Helped all my friends come out, and so much more. I’m so proud of myself.

Ps. Dom I’m so proud of you!!

I identify as “Trying”

I came out at thirteen as a lesbian. I was so convinced I only liked women as a result of severe familial trauma in my early years.

Deep, seeded trauma had kept me from being an honest person, and while I don’t use that as an excuse for my adult behavior, I understand that trauma motivated many unsavory behaviors in me until my early twenties at least. And I will have to work the rest of my life to forgive myself for the person I was when I was not honest with myself or anyone else. And that’s okay.

I allowed the fear of myself I harbored to be my sole motivator.
I feared loneliness so I remained in toxic interpersonal relationships for fear of being alone long enough to confront my own trauma.

I feared my parents, who were incapable of caring even for themselves as a result of their own never confronted traumas, thus providing me with a grocery-list of my own traumas to deal with.

I feared being adopted or thrust into the foster care system, like my siblings had been. If I was going to have to be housed, I’d rather not have had to meet new people doing it.

I feared disappointing others, mostly my religious grandparents.

I feared all men as a result of my mother’s propensity for self sabotage and men with abusive habits.

This fear has followed me for decades. I’m here because I’m not a lesbian and I don’t think I’ve formulated a coherent thought around that before now. I love love. I love all types of people. Despite what I’ve convinced myself, I am capable of great love and I am deserving of it, no matter who it’s from. I am so sorry to my younger self for forcing her into this box. I was convinced I had to pick a side to be taken seriously. I don’t. You don’t. It’s ridiculous. Be open to love in its many forms. My life has opened up greatly since I had this revelation.

I’m trying. And sometimes that’s all you can do.

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

Progression not Perfection from a gay mormon

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.

My journey is far from over, stalled out yes but not over…not yet. I was born and raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons-not the polygamist version). When I look back over my life, I realize that I felt different, broken…a mistake when I was 3 or 4. Going through life, church every Sunday, church activities almost every evening, seminary in the mornings…year after year. I tried so hard to be just like everyone else. But I felt something for women that I didn’t feel for men…while I didn’t understand what any of those feelings meant I knew I needed to keep my secret…a secret I didn’t even know about. I didn’t meet anyone who was gay until I was 21-ish and still had no idea I could be gay until I was 24 or so. Xena was the first suggested gay anything I had ever known. I fought against it so hard, I was always the “tomboy” and hated with a passion when someone would call me gay. As if at that time I even knew what gay was, I just knew that you couldn’t be gay and be in the church. You can’t go to heaven unless you marry in the temple. I had to be straight but I hated the idea of being with a man. After all, men were the ones who told me what I could do with my body, men were the ones that used my body before I ever knew what my body was for. But women were safe, soft and caring. I fell in love with my best friend in 1st grade but had no idea at the time what I was. Who I am. Just that I had to keep it a secret. I tried killing myself in high school…for a lot of reasons really, but mostly because I felt and had learned that I was a mistake, that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t normal. But I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted. My junior year of college I met gay people for the first time, and suddenly life started making sense. Their stories were like mine, the confusion, the loss and the horrible lonely ache of feeling like you can’t be you. At that time though, only church members were really in my life…when they started suspecting I was kicked out of two separate housing locations, I lost my all of my friends. All of them. It wasn’t hard coming out to my mom, bless her soul she has loved me and supported me even when I hate myself. She is the only reason I exist now. Dad, well…I’ve blocked most of it out but remember him with a steak knife. The majority of my family loves the sinner but hates the sin. I’ve been fired from jobs for being gay. I’ve been beaten up, called names, spit at and threatened…but I can’t change who I am. I still feel like a mistake, either waiting to die or waiting for life to start…and while I have no idea what actually happens in the afterlife…I know that I live with integrity. I help those less fortunate than me, I help lost and abandoned animals, I give to charities and I work with some of the most challenging of clients in my professional life…I’m not gloating, not puffing my chest. Just saying that I’m being me, all of me. I am gay. I love women. I love helping others. I firmly believe that if we do our best every day, no matter what the best looks like…that maybe God/the universe will understand that I am the way I was made as God intended. Yes, I still feel broken, lost and a mistake…and if being gay keeps me from heaven, then sadly I admit okay. I cannot change who I am any more than I can change my blood type. I cannot change my faith even if my church hates me. Coming to terms with yourself is not a destination, it is a journey and I am far from the end. Yes some days are better than others, and some days I am a victim to my own mind but this I promise…I will never give up my integrity as a good human. An empath. A gay Mormon. Had God wanted me different, then I would be different. No matter where you are in your journey…know others have been there. While the steps are not the same, the feelings are. Don’t let anyone steal your shine. You are worth it. Every little bit. You are worth it and so much more. Be at peace and know you are loved. <3 Deb