Community Rainbow Waves

In the end we only regret the chances we didn’t take.

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community when I was 13 and met my best friend. My best friend is genderqueer and showed me what the LGBTQ+ community is. At first, I was amazed that I had spent so much of my life not knowing about this fantastic community but then, I got to thinking what if I’m a part of the LGBTQ+ community? So being the person that I am, I spent hours upon hours of researching and learning everything I could about the LGBTQ+ community. And after learning and researching until my brain felt like it was going to die, I came to the conclusion I was bisexual. The next day I came out to my best friend and she was accepting. I then proceeded for the next couple of months to come out to friends; they all were accepting. In late December of 2018, I came out to my parents as a lesbian. I didn’t come out to them as bisexual because I knew deep down I was lesbian. Nonetheless, my parents are accepting of my sexuality. The next day I came out to my brother, and he was accepting and then later that day came out as gay to me and my parents; my parents are accepting of his sexuality as well. I then spent the next year coming out to my aunts, uncles, and cousins; and they all are accepting of my sexuality. Overall, I am just so grateful to have an accepting family and friends that I can truly be myself around. I couldn’t ask for a better coming out story.

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

Pansexual

Hi there mates, my name is Iris and I am pansexual. Whew, that’s really the first time I’ve ever written that out. I am sixteen years old but knew my identity since seventh grade. I never really saw anyone in the media I could relate to, until these past couple of years. Someone I really look up to is Natasha Negovanlis, a pansexual actress. I feel like labels are so pushed on people that it’s difficult to identify with one because there’s so much pressure to do so. I definitely relate to bisexuality but I don’t want to limit myself by identifying with it and excluding the possibility of being with someone who identifies as non-binary or not in the gender spectrum of “male” and “female”. I know this is the age when people brush things off by saying that “its a phase” or “you’re just confused”. I’m not. I know who I am but I also know that if I choose to be just that there’s going to be a lot of backlash. I live in Tennessee, the south. Here, anyone identifying with the LGBTQIA+ community is unheard of. I almost came out to my best friend. Until I heard her say that someone called her a lesbian (as a joke) and she became very offended. I remember her exact words. “Ew, someone called me a lesbian… I know it’s a joke, but that’s like, super offensive”. I am open about standing up for the LGBTQIA+ community and everyone I know mocks me for it. The people, who I thought were my friends, make fun of the community on a daily basis in front of my face because they know it makes me angry and uncomfortable. I don’t really feel the need to have this big “coming out” because honestly, who I choose to be with, is no one’s damn business but my own. My closest friends are always asking me “what are you” and “seriously dude, if you like girls you need to tell me”. Does it matter? What difference would it make? My best friend calls me D*ke instead of using my real name because she thinks it’s funny. I don’t care about being called that, but derogatory phrases are offensive to the community and I have told her multiple times not to say them. I feel like I’m in this corner trapped by people who whisper about me like I’m some kind of circus animal. My girl friends are worried that “I have a crush on them” and feel uncomfortable around me. I’M NOT CONTAGIOUS?? Anyway, I do honestly think that I want to move somewhere else when I am older to a place which does accept me. I’m looking at colleges in Canada and really hope I can create my own community. CHOOSE my family. People who don’t squirm when I mention that, YES, I AM QUEER. There’s so much beauty in that community that I truly wish to celebrate openly some day. I WILL come out once I find the right people to come out to. Even if it takes a few years, I know it’ll be worth it because surrounding yourself by people who unconditionally love you is irreplaceable. I want to say thank you so much to those who support, and are apart of, the queer community, I really look up to you and hope to find those who are like you some day.

I am gay.

I suppose you could also use the term lesbian to define me but I’ve never really felt comfortable with it due to the pornographic connotations. I am 17 and I realised when I was 13/14. I can’t remember the exact age or date which may be a surprise to some people because it is often viewed as a life changing event. For me, it wasn’t. It was a realisation, an extra part of myself which I hadn’t yet realised but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Quite a few people say that they knew from a young age but didn’t think it was something they should embrace but I honestly had no idea. I’d never met a gay person, nobody had ever mentioned gay people, or just anyone who wasn’t straight, to me or in my presence. I had no idea this was even a thing. It wasn’t like my parents were trying to hide it from me, it had just never been brought up. It wasn’t until I accidentally stumbled across some coming out videos on you tube that I realised. I’d felt the same way that they were describing but I’d just thought that was how everyone felt. I’d had many “boyfriends” when I was younger, I say “boyfriends” because none of them were ever real relationships after all I was only between the ages of 10 and 13. But that was just what you did, that was what everyone my age was doing so that’s what I was doing too, sure I’d found them attractive but I’d never been attracted TO any of them which was the big difference.

So after stumbling across these videos I began searching for them, absorbing everything that was being said, in particular I identified with Rose Ellen Dix’s video (if you want some good queer representation, her and her wife Rosie are absolutely adorable and they’re very funny). I discovered that I was gay and that was it. I didn’t see any issues with my identity because as I had not known about the LGBTQ+ community I had also not known if the struggles I could face, I was blissfully ignorant. I began telling my friends through sending them Ally Hill’s song for coming out with because honestly what a bop. I broke up with my boyfriend at the time, he seemed to take it very well and decided that I should tell my mum. I told her that I’d broken up with my boyfriend but that I wasn’t ready to her why yet. When I was, I wrote it on a chalkboard in my room and asked her to read it, and once she had she came and found me. Her first sentence was to ask if I was joking, when I said no she said I must be confused because I had realised I didn’t like my boyfriend and that I needed to rub it off of the chalkboard before my dad saw. She wanted to know if I’d told any of my friends and upon replying that had, she told me that I should tell them that I’m not gay, I was just confused about my feelings. Now I know this isn’t the worst thing to have said to you by a parent when you’ve just tried to come out to them, but I was 13 I didn’t know that this was an outcome that could’ve happened, I thought they wouldn’t care and now I was scared.

Now I faced the struggle that so many if us face. I began closing in on myself for a while, I was suddenly faced with a reality where everything wasn’t okay and there must be something wrong with me. It took a while before I decided that there was nothing wrong with me and I told my friends once more that I was gay, maybe this was just something I had to hide from my family, that was okay, I could do that. I made an Instagram account where I could follow other gay people and talk about tv programmes with gay characters etc without it being associated with my own account because being gay was now something to fear rather than be unbothered about.

At some point, I don’t know exactly when, my dad saw my phone whilst I was on it, he told my mum but didn’t say anything to me about it. A good few months after I’d tried to come out to my mum (probably closer to a year really) she’d been out drinking and I’d stayed up to say goodnight to her when she came home. She confronted me about what my dad had seen and wouldn’t let me leave until I’d told her that I was gay. As you can imagine, I was crying I was only 14 at this point and my main objective had been not slipping up in front off my parents so that they would find out, she kept telling me that it was okay but I honestly wanted the world to swallow me right then and there and this will probably always remain one of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced. Both of these instances paint my mum in a very bad light but she’s actually a really lovely person, obviously we have our disagreements over things and certain topics but most people do. I used to hate the way she acted during both these instances but know I realise that she was just as inexperienced as I was, she was scared of what people would say and how they would act towards me, of how she was now supposed to act was she to be different? Or the same? I’ve forgiven her for these things, nobody is perfect and she is constantly working to be better. She told my dad what had happened and I think they had an argument over the way she’d acted. My dad has never had an issue with my sexuality and we seem to be closer now than we ever were.

As far as I know, all of my family members know. I say this because my mum told most of them, this may also seem like a bad thing to do to some people, like she had taken away my right to be able to do it myself but honestly, I prefer it this was. This whole experience gave me a fear of coming out to family members so I’m glad I never had to do it. I think I will always have some uncomfortable feelings talking to family members about being gay but it has gotten better as time as gone on so hopefully that means it will go away as I get older. My auntie found out last year after my mum had told her, she made a big fuss about how proud she was of me and I know that’s what some people want and need but it makes me feel so uncomfortable, probably due to the trauma created by my coming out but also because I’ve never felt like it was something that I needed to be brave about, something I needed to be proud of (not that I’m not proud of being gay) but it’s just a part of who I am and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of that being something I need to be brave and proud about if you can understand what I’m trying to say.

A light-hearted coming out was when I told my brother, during the uncomfortable atmosphere that followed my 2nd coming out disaster it went as follows:
Him: “why are you being weird at the minute?”
Me: “I’m not being weird, you’re weird”
Him: “I know you’re gay you know”
Me: *internal freaking out* “who told you?”
Him: “oh I was joking but that’s cool”
After I’d finished freaking out, I really appreciated the easiness of the whole situation.

So to conclude what is a very long story (if you’ve made it this far, thank you for being interested in my life, I’ve nearly finished I promise) I’ve only actually come out about 9 times in my life, the rest is thanks to other people spreading it, including the boyfriend mentioned previously who told people that was the reason I’d broken up with him and lead to the whole school finding out, (it’s okay though, I’ve forgiven him too because we were young and he didn’t know any better). I know there are going to be so many small comings out in my life that I will easily lose track of the number of people that I’ve told and I will probably face some hard times from people who aren’t accepting of who I am, but I say bring it on because I’m happy with who I am and I’m ready to face anything that comes my way.

On a side note, I hope everyone is staying safe during this pandemic and that you’re all healthy and hopefully not facing any loss.

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.

Bisexual

My coming out was not the best. I was forced out by an ex’s parent. I was 18 and was in a complicated relationship with my best friend at the time. Unfortunately the future would show me she was neither my girlfriend nor my friend, but that’s another story. She had wanted furniture for her room so I told her I could give her some of mine because I didn’t really use my drawers. Of course that caused commotion at home so I lied and told my parents I was going to move in with her. That way they wouldn’t think I was just giving her my stuff. My mom drove me n the furniture over to her house and I was going to bring the furniture inside. Her Father and my mom started talking while I went to her room to figure out where to out everything. Next thing I know my mom comes up to me and says ” el dice que quieres a su hija.” (Meaning he said u love his daughter) and my heart dropped but I didn’t want my mom to know I was freaking out so what I said was “So”. After that my mother broke down crying and we ended up not leaving the furniture. What followed was being ignored and getting kicked out a number of times. The good thing is now that I’m 30 my mom has become more accepting but I would have loved to have told her when I was ready.

Jenna

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

I have never posted anything serious on social media and I do not like to post for all to see, but I wanted to get my story out there somehow. When I saw the video that @dominauep_c uploaded I thought I might be able to help others with my story. I understand there is a certain limit on characters with these social media outlets, but I think my story is pretty crazy and actually inspiring for anyone willing to listen. Some days I don’t even know how I am still here and still sane. The story I am about to tell isn’t for sympathy or pity but it is for hope. It’s for others to realize that things can get dark but there is always that glimmer of hope at the end.

I was born in an upper middle class family. I was the middle child and probably the cutest out of my siblings. From what I can recall I had a great childhood and a loving family. When I was 13 my family decided to take one more camping trip before the school year started. Little did I know then, but that day my whole life would change.
My mother ended up having a heart attack on the vacation and would never come back home. My father being the man that he was ended up remarrying 3 months after my mother’s passing to a abusive drug addict with 6 kids. With my fathers decision to remarry our extended family fell away. My life went from a loving family of 5 to a family of 11. Life was terrible for me and my siblings. I was constantly physical and verbally abused for years by my step mother with my fathers knowledge. At the end of my ropes, I finally fought back. My father choosing his new family kicked me and my siblings out. My grandparents took us in but only to a certain extent. We lived in their garage and could only bathe in their pool. My sister during this time was to young and had to move back in with my father and my brother ended up moving away to college, leaving me at the hands of my grandparents. Once again physically and verbally abused, my only escape was to go to college.
Going into my freshmen year of college my father decided he wanted me back in his life. He divorced his wife and got a small apartment for us to live. On my first semester break from college, I went home to his apartment to find it abandoned, no note nothing, my dad once again left me and moved in with his new girlfriend. With no where to go, I moved into my car.
When the semester break was over I returned to college and actually became good friends with a girl from my hometown. Telling her my story, her family took me in. I had a loving family again. It was great and awesome until one day I fell in love with that girl. We hid this relationship from her family, and our closest friends for 11 years. We played the straight life in public, but behind closed doors we were in love. Through those closeted 11 years together we went on dates with men to keep rumors of us together at bay.
At the age of 25 I finally saved enough money to buy my first house. My hopes were to have my girlfriend move in with me and actually come out to our friends and family. Like everything else in my life things did not go as planned. We immediately became estranged from my girlfriends family and also mine. It was hell for 2 years for us. I was getting death threats on the regular from her family that I ruined their life and I turned their daughter gay. I was an abomination to society and shouldn’t be loved for what I am. Despite what we were going through we got married in those two years. My wife’s father did not show and her mother the day before decided she would come. My family ended up coming but only a handful and our wedding was mostly celebrated by our friends who supported us.
We bought a house shortly after our wedding and in hopes of starting a family. I am going to fast forward three years and cut out more heartache of miscarriages to current day.
I am 33 now, I have my own family. I am married to the woman I fell in love with 14 years ago. We have a beautiful 16 month old spitfire and one on the way. We have a beautiful home and finally some hope of happiness and peace.I no longer talk to my family for they believe being gay and brining children into this world is cruel. My wife’s family accepts/tolerates us/ me.
I am telling my story to bring hope to those going through dark times and for those who feel alone. We are not alone and we can bring change and we need to bring change. It is important to fight and keep fighting for what we believe in no matter how dark times may get. Fight for yourself and fight for love.
I will end on words that have kept me going “happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn the light on” – Dumbledore

Bisexual however been with the same woman for 13 years

When I was 16 my BFF and I started an intimate journey together really seemed out of nowhere. We weren’t intimate all the way but one afternoon we were making out and I burst into tears saying over and over again ‘I don’t want to be gay OMG I don’t want to be gay’ it was quite the melt down. Very long story short I spent the next 20 years of my life in the closet hating myself when I was with a woman because I couldn’t be honest and out. Then hating myself more being with a man and being miserable inside. Eventually I figured it out and here I am 48 and in love with a wonderful lady. She’s my everything and I’m so glad I finally was brace enough to come out. My baby sister was who I told first and she was fine and herself is bisexual. Who knew. We could never learn to be brave and patient if there was only joy in the world.

Allison

As a queer woman, I have many coming out stories. The fumbling time I came out to my parents in a pharmacy parking lot, the time I drunkenly sobbed it to my best friend at a bar while an 80s cover band performed Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” in the background, the multiple times I came out to myself.

I first realized I might not be totally straight when I was in college. Sure, I had been attracted to other girls before, but I marked it up to general admiration. Everyone had thoughts like this, right? It was during my junior year in 2009 that I noticed a girl waiting in the corridor for our class to begin. There was nothing ordinarily special about her, but the way she carried herself captivated me. So, I kept an eye out for that girl, thinking maybe I wanted to be friends with her. She was sporting a baseball cap with the horrible baseball team I cheer for. That’s enough to want to be friends, right? The semesters changed and I didn’t give much thought to the mysterious girl whom I never ended up talking to; though I continued to work my part-time job at a queer owned deli, telling myself I was just an enthusiastic ally.

As fate would have it, who walked into my senior thesis course the following semester? Why, none other than baseball cap girl! Since there were only six of us in the class, we all got familiar, and for the sake of anonymity, let’s name her Kate. Kate and I became fast friends and the need to be near her became too much to ignore. It was like my true self was festering under the surface, but all the years of my small town, conservative upbringing made me scared of what the outcome would be if I let this part of myself out.

In coming to terms with my sexuality, I did what I always do when I don’t know an answer: RESEARCH. I scoured the internet for any helpful articles, I even got books from the library on human sexuality. I searched for representation in the media to little avail. I wanted to find stories like these, from real people who knew the struggle of accepting yourself. I was lost and confused but finally said the words “I’m gay” to myself, out loud.

Meeting Kate was a “click” moment for me. She was the one who turned the light on in corners of my brain and heart that I was trying to suppress. She came into my life abruptly, threw me for a loop and for that, I am forever in her debt. Though the story between the two of us is a phantom for another day, I will always be thankful to this woman and cherish my memories with her because she helped me see my true self.

Personally, I have never been a fan of labels. I don’t like to be put in a box when there are so many little things that make every one of us unique. I never really referred to myself as a lesbian, but that is what most people I know decided to categorize me under. Again, I don’t care for labels, so I never really minded. Then, a few months ago, I was cleaning up at the bar I work at with a coworker. We were having a pint while sweeping the floors when we started a candid conversation about the queer community. He is an open-minded straight cisgender man, so I honestly answered any of his queries to the best of my ability. It was in this conversation with a friend, that I came out once more, but this time as queer. I told him that though I usually prefer women, I would never close myself off to the opportunity of being with someone based on their gender.

So, in closing, much like the world around us, we are never done evolving. You are allowed to be a work in progress. You are allowed to readjust your labels. You are allowed to unapologetically be who you are, because who you are is beautiful and more than enough. No matter how you identify, you are deserving of all the fucking love in the world. <3 AM

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.