Community Rainbow Waves

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

I like what I like.

You can’t help who you love.

It began when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class with short dirty blonde hair and I still remember the red and white ruffled dress she wore, with her dingy white sneakers. I knew something was different. I was having these feelings that I couldn’t explain, and they continued to grow. My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot, and met a lot of different people. I was constantly bombarded with all these new attractions I was experiencing. When I was 10 years old, I realized that this was the real beginning of my struggle with my sexuality. There were two girls in my class that I could never stop talking about. I started drawing out their names during class and was constantly thinking about them. “This can’t be normal! Why am I having these feelings? What’s wrong with me? Do I tell mom and dad? What would they say?” Then I remembered I had an aunt, who was rumored to have a girlfriend, and that was highly frowned upon-yet no one ever confronted her about it. My parents just told us that “they were girlfriends.” I took that as they were together, but it was never explained or rarely spoken of. When it was mentioned, it was always with eyebrows raised. Their reaction to her made it even more difficult for me to want to talk to them.

After a few months at a new school, my sister found a couple drawings of girls’ names that I had really huge crushes on. “I LOVE…” She went straight to our mom with them! I was so embarrassed and confused. “You are just confused. You can talk to me, okay?” I WAS NOT going to talk to her! “This is my secret and it will pass,” I thought to myself. Maybe I was going through a phase. My dad was away, so I felt a little more at ease that I didn’t have to try to talk to him too.

I was 16 years old when my mom came up to me and asked me outright if I was gay. Her eyes pierced my soul. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so ashamed. I did NOT want to disappoint her. Without hesitation, I looked directly into her eyes and lied to her. “NO! I’m just not interested in anyone, that’s all.” She knew I was lying, but did not say so. I continued to have my secret crushes, but never allowed myself to fully give in to my feelings. It was miserable, to have all these feelings and be terrified to speak about them. My questionable sexuality was knocking at my door. I was in real trouble. It was getting harder and harder to suppress these feelings. My friends at school were all dating and here I was, not interested in any guys. AT ALL. I decided that I would just tell everyone that my mom would not allow me to date because I had to focus on my studies. That’s what Asian kids do right? They don’t have time for relationships!

I was 20 when I met Lou. She was the general manager at the restaurant that I worked at. Over the years of our friendship, she noticed that I never had a boyfriend, or talked about relationships in general. One day, I decided to date a guy. We had gone to high school together and he was recently divorced with a young son. Honestly, I was trying to test if I was really gay. This relationship ended quickly, as I realized that even if I had feelings for him, being with him felt like a job. I went through all the motions but had no real connection. I was watching him fall for me and for what? To disappoint him in the end? We ultimately broke up because I was always choosing work over him, or any excuse to keep him at a distance. My mom and Lou watch all of this unfold. Neither of them were fooled for a second. The thing that Lou said to me that I will never forget is that, “you can’t help who you love.” I didn’t answer, but I knew that she knew. I was 29 when I had the worst encounter of my life. I had met someone at my new job and had fallen in love with her, and I could NOT bear to tell her. The friendship ended horribly because I wouldn’t explain to her why I was so jealous of her boyfriend. In an effort to forget about how my life was completely ruined by me being in the closet, I decided suddenly to join the military. I needed a new environment, a change. I had to get out of here!

In a new place, I decided that I could finally be me. None of the past shame or mistakes. However, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” was still in effect (homosexual servicemen/servicewomen could stay in the military if they did not openly declare their sexual orientation). I got involved with a girl at the barracks, and things escalated quickly. We were careful, because we didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves. I lied to her about my past in the beginning, but seeing how serious it was getting, I finally told her to truth. I’d never been with a woman. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. During the duration of our relationship, we had difficult arguments. I had not come out to my family and was avoiding it, which was a huge problem for her since she expected them to know that she existed as more than my friend. She wanted to get married and wanted kids, and to be accepted by my family. I was not ready for ANY of that. Everything was still so new but I still was not able to be ME. I was living two separate lives.

The next year, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Within that year, she passed away. I never came out to her. And now she was gone. I fell into a horrible depression and was not sure I going to make it in the military. I had only been in for a couple years and my girlfriend was afraid I would ruin my career. Since I had been free of suppressing my sexuality, I decided to suppress my grief over losing my mom. It caught up to me a few months later when I getting ready to report to my first ship. We dated for another year before she ended things. We were on opposite coasts and would be separated for 3-4 years. My first REAL heart break. As soon as I was able, I went home on leave and came out to my dad and sisters. I came out to my dad first, and boy was that the hardest thing I ever had to do. I couldn’t even look at him. He is a man of very little words so when he asked if I was sure, I looked at him through my tears. “Dad, I’ve known since I was 5.” He looked down, then said, “okay,” and walked away. I felt a huge wave of relief. I mean, he didn’t hug me or tell me everything was going to be fine, but I knew it would be. I came out to my sisters next, which was much easier. “I knew it! Why couldn’t you just tell us? It was obvious! I remember your little drawings,” my one sister yelled. The other one was still a baby back then, but then chimed in, “I was just waiting for you to tell us.” I started crying because I wasn’t able to tell my mom, and that I would never be able to tell her.

Newly single at 32 and a new duty station was just the change that I needed . “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed and I could serve the remainder of my time in the military truly happy and free. When asked “what I am,” I would always answer, “I like what I like.” I still to this day have no label and have been happy in my “no label” sexuality since then. I have never felt the need to come out to everyone. My dad and sisters know and I’m okay with that. In my dad’s words, “You don’t need to announce it to the world. You don’t owe anyone any explanation. You do what you feel is right, and what makes you happy.”

I finished my contract and returned home. I had a lot of people speculate on my sexuality but the only person I cared about was Lou. She has been my best friend for years and like a big sister, but I still have not come out officially to her. I don’t feel the need to. Outside of my dad and sisters, I know that she loves me unconditionally. I know that she knows, and I believe she is still waiting on me to tell her. Maybe I will soon. 21 years later is not too late.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

Noah, just a boy in a world who doesn’t see him as such

My whole life I’ve known I wasn’t like all the other girls I was friends with, everyday I felt as though there was something in the back of my mind telling me something was off. From a young age, I had always been more of a masculine person, and while yes, any gender can be masculine, I don’t think most little girls wanted to be a boy, be seen as a boy, as badly as I did. But the fact was that I had not been armed with the words that I could’ve used to express myself just yet, living in a religious and very conservative home does that sometimes.

So, when I was about 11 or 12, I met a friend of mine who identified as a lesbian, a word I wasn’t familar with and part of a world I had yet to discover. With her by my side, we figured that world out together, and from that point on, I identified as a lesbian, or as gay rather, because I hated that word for what I now realize was me hating the femininity that goes along with it, while gay was more gender neutral. But back then, I simply didn’t use that word for reasons I didn’t know.

Fast forward to my freshman year of high school, the year I was the most depressed and anxious I had ever been. I was so numb and tired all the time that I was even distancing myself from friends who had been supporting me my whole life. But then I figured out why. It was because I was unhappy with how I look, how I sound, how tall I am, all of that and it was eating away at me.

Before I knew it, I was watching a YouTuber named MilesMcKenna, a trans FtM youtuber who shared stories of his experiences as a trans man and his transition and… I had never felt more at home. I thought about what it would be like to transition into a guy both medically and socially and I smiled a real smile for the first time in a while. And that’s when I knew I wasn’t a girl, I was and have always been a boy who didn’t have the language to put to how I felt, but now I do.

I am Noah. I am trans FtM and I’m proud of who I am, even if only a handful of people in my life know right now. What matters is that I know, what matters is I’m truly, finally, happy.

Took a while to figure out who I really was, but now I have found myself

The “identify” title of this post may be a slight lie. See I believe that all of life is a journey, and we are always redefining what we want, and most importantly who we are. Nothing is ever only black or white.

However as this is about coming out, I’ll tell you my story. My story is similar to most. I lived most of my youth in the different shades of grey. You know where most of us live, just trying to be authentic and figure ourselves out. I was a tomboy, who for most of my life got along better with the boys than the girls. However, I knew I didn’t want to be a boy, I just didn’t want to be treated any different. I didn’t want to play with dolls, I’d rather be rough-housing in the dirt than be pretty (or clean!). I hated dresses and would strip them off as soon as I could. Luckily having an older brother and a thrifty mom who probably hated doing my laundry, I mainly got to hangout in boy-shorts, and not much else. I know I am luckier than most, as I got Transformers as birthday gifts and was allowed to be myself, even if I dint know exactly what that was yet.

Now I don’t believe being a tomboy is a precursor for being gay. Its just about those shades of grey. Look at my brother for example, always clean and pristine. Dressed to impress. Hated dirt and trucks. Straight (or rather within the straight range of the grey spectrum where we all dwell). There are no rules, only the expectations others put on us.

Despite this, I never knew I was gay. However, I had no interest in boys, or girls for that matter. I was drawn to characters I could identify with on TV, the less boy crazy more down and dirty girls (think Jo from Facts of Life) but I never knew anyone who was gay, so it just never entered my mind as being a possibility. Puberty hit and boys filled the void, although I never became attached and frankly never had that much fun. Around the same time, my focus shifted from my male school friends, who I felt nothing for, to craving female friendships.

And I fell hard. Not in love, I never wanted to sleep with them. But I wanted to be around them. At the same time, I became less interested in my male flings, but still never thought about the female possibility. I was very guarded. I never touched or hugged my friends. I thought that perhaps was just the way I was. However in retrospect, I think I was afraid. However I never allowed it into my conscious mind.

Believe it or not it was not until university where this changed. And even then it was a painfully slow process. By 3rd year I had girlfriends who would hug and kiss me. However I was still very guarded and kept even my closest friends a safe distance, at least emotionally, away. Then there was one special friend, who managed to breakdown the walls I had built so high, I didn’t even know I was within them. She crawled into my bed and insisted I comfort her (physically not sexually). She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and I am not sure why, but she picked me as the one friend she needed (she had lots of friends, but perhaps she saw something that even I didn’t).

We had an intense friendship that meant we saw each other all the time. That summer we hung out as much as we could. We’d do this thing where we’d have to go try new beers in a new bar every time. One night out with other friends from school, we spent the whole time holed up in the bathroom. One of her friends came in and accused us of being lovers. I laughed it off, neither of us was embarrassed, as we weren’t. I hadn’t even considered it! However that night, sleeping over as I often did, she kissed me. Well tried to. I told her no. Or rather I believe I said ‘not like this’. You see, my walls were still there. I knew I loved her but I hadn’t let myself ever consider anything more. After all, I didn’t know one other person who was gay. Not one! Ellen had come out, but she was a celebrity, no one that I identified with or could relate to. So I just didn’t consider it. I have many friends who are older than me who knew. Who felt it when they were young, when they were around girls. I can honestly say I never did. Until I did.

So as you may guess the friendship ended badly. She didn’t appreciate the rejection and took me as a third wheel on a date (with a guy) a week later. My guess is to prove that she was straight. That she wasn’t interested in me. I am not sure her motives, we didn’t talk about it. I left that night, pulled over on the highway and cried like I had never allowed myself to cry before. I cried until I felt the walls give way, finally giving my heart room to breath. We never spoke again.

However the change in me had started. And now I couldn’t stop it. I started looking into female friendships, trying to figure out why I needed them, no craved them. I was drawn to TV shows with strong female characters and friendships. I joined online chat rooms to discuss them. Through these chats I discovered a whole world of people who were out and proud. Unafraid and apologetically themselves. How brave!

I decided I must be bisexual. Of course, by then my interest in males had completely waned. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since grade school and other than a few drunken, not fun experiences, had no real interest in discovering more about men. After meeting up with some incredible women from my chat groups from Canada and the US, many of us coming out together, I finally ventured into a gay bar with a friend, more confident in myself and who I was, or that who I thought I was. I saw a girl from across the room staring at me. You know the out girl, who knew since she was 14 and had no problems embracing who she was. That was it – hook. line and sinker. And I never looked back.

Now I know I am gay. I would never say 100%, because I do believe the majority of us live in the grey areas, as I said before. Its a sliding scale, its never fixed and hell, who would want it to be. Fluidity is a beautiful thing. It allows us to embrace change. However, in my heart I can only see myself being with women, as this brings me the most happiness, and isn’t that what it is all about? Being happy.

It was a slow start but I’ve been out now 20 years. I’m out to everyone I meet. I have a very important professional job, and I know I can ‘pass’ for straight. However I remember what it was like to feel like something must be wrong with me for not liking boys, to feel completely isolated and alone. What good would I be to this life if I kept this part of me hidden? Who would I be helping, and more importantly who else would feel unseen, if I didn’t live my authentic self?

Who you love shouldn’t define you. But lets face it, it does. My closest friends are all part of this community, because it is a different experience walking through this world with your eyes open. My gayness is an essential part of who I am. I carry it around like a badge of honour. However, I don’t think its that important to define yourself. Rather the most important thing is to be aware. Be present. Listen to what your heart and soul is telling you. Because it knows you, trust me, much better than you know yourself. Just listen. Set aside the fear and chose to exist. In whatever way you define as most authentic self.

Lula

i never really questioned my sexuality, i just assumed i was straight, but was always disgusted at the thought of dating a boy and i never understood why. near the end of year 9, this boy liked me , and i thought he was funny but couldn’t establish the difference between whether it was a crush or a friendship. all of my friends told me that i had a crush on him and that i liked him, so i just kinda went with it- nothing happened though because i didn’t want it to. that set me back quite a bit. in the summer holidays at the end of year 9, i came to terms with my sexuality through adelaide kane, rachel skarsten, and sarah paulson and the shows they were in. i made an instagram editing account and it was my happy place, but i still didn’t feel free with my sexuality on there as i was afraid of being judged. i then watched wynonna earp in the december of 2018 (the same year). i fell in love with wayhaught and waverly earp. i then made a group of internet friends through the fan base who quickly became my second family and supported me no matter what. through earpers and the cast members, i finally felt like i could be myself and built up the courage to come out to 3 of my friends from school. over the past year and a bit, i have gradually come out to more and more of my closest friends, the majority also happening to have later come out to me as well (i guess gays attract lmao). i suppose i should identify as a lesbian because i am a woman who solely likes women, but hearing that word still makes me uncomfortable for some reason, so i prefer to just tell people i’m gay. i’m still nowhere near ready to come out to my family, due to the fact that my dad, auntie, and all my grandparents would probably disown me, but i am happy with myself and my sexuality.

Lesbian and human

I knew I was different, in elementary school, but I didn’t know why. As I got older, I started learning about things that were never spoken about in the Mexican culture. I learned about sex through classmates when I was in elementary school. When I came home, I told my mom some of my peers told me about sex. My Mom immediately got upset, she told me they shouldn’t have revealed to me what that was, and told me to never speak to my school mates again.
As I grew older and entered middle school, I was looking for music on a computer. I found a folder that had a name thinking it was a music file and well it wasn’t a music file. As you can imagine, that was a bit of a shock. I shamefully closed the window as quickly as I could. However, curiosity got the best of me and I opened it again, several times. Finally, embarrassed and fearing being found out, I closed everything on the computer. These feelings that I stumbled upon, continued to grow throughout my formative middle school years. I began to realize how much more I noticed girls and not boys.
When I started high school, I knew that I liked women but I dated boys, because I was scared to come out to my parents. I did what I thought I should have done. I lost my virginity to a guy sometime in high school, although I didn’t feel any emotional connection. I did eventually find a great group of friends and we would remain close throughout the rest of high school. I had crushes on two of the girls in my friend group and I was still afraid to come out. The one crush was particularly devastating, as she was taken by my other male best friend. He wasn’t upset but it was still scary to come out because I wasn’t sure what the reception would be. I didn’t want to lose my friends. Not only that I was still questioning myself. I eventually lost touch with my high school friends unfortunately.
I did eventually come out to my parents near the end of high school. I told them after coming back home from a church retreat. I came out and told them I was bi ( I still wasn’t sure of myself at the time) my mom proceeded to call her church friends so they could pray the gay away from me. I complied with my mom’s wishes. I kneeled down and pretended to repent while crossing my fingers behind my back. My mother at one point screamed at god asking why she had been punished by having a gay child. After this we didn’t talk for a while.
Around the same time, I came out to my brother on the same day that he was going to give me a guitar as a christmas gift. I cried and I told him about my situation with Mom and Dad as well as my fear of losing people. He embraced me with the warmest hug and told me that I shouldn’t care what others think or worry about the religious factor. He told me he loves me no matter what. I was relieved and happy.
I was much more nervous to tell my sister, oddly enough she already knew. And we also never spoke about it again.
With Phoenix job corps came many new experiences and new crushes. I felt like I could finally be myself. I came to grips with the realization I am a lesbian and not bisexual. And today I finally find the courage to come out to you all as a Mexican American lesbian and I am authentically proud to be me.

Trust your heart if the seas catch fire (she/her)

I never knew I was gay when I was growing up. I had a conservative family who never talked about love. I was extremely in denial and extremely obsessed with boys. But, I met a girl when I was 15, at school. And we became fast friends – we were exceptionally close. I thought all friendships were meant to feel like that – warm, safe… slightly obsessive. And then one day she wanted to kiss me, and I was so confused because I didn’t like GIRLS??? And it took me a long time to come around, but she became my first girlfriend and it was the biggest scariest secret I had to keep. We went to an all girls school and she was incredibly affectionate so it wasn’t long before people started talking about us behind our backs and suspecting. I got tonnes of anonymous messages online calling me slurs and asking if we were dating. Keep in mind it was 2012, things were very different than they could be now. So finally after months of rumours about us being “dirty lesbians” and snide comments in class I decided it was time for me to just say it, because I was tired of awful made up stories about me floating everywhere. So I made a post on Facebook telling everyone to stop – stop calling me a lesbian, stop making things up. And I told them that I was bisexual. I received over 300 likes on that post. And somehow, magically, all the hate whispered behind our backs slowed right down. Because nobody had anything to talk about anymore. Because I confirmed the truth, we weren’t hiding anymore. That relationship lasted 18 months and I’ve had many long term relationships with women since. My label has changed over time and I now feel that Queer most describes my sexuality but I also identify with pansexual and bisexual. But for me, my sexuality doesn’t feel like it is just one thing. I feel fluid, like I have the capacity to love anybody. My story has many, many more layers as do all of ours. This is just one short version of my story, and how I became a part of one of the most wonderful communities on earth.

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

That Tall Redhead – CONTENT WARNING: This coming out story contains description and/or discussion about self-harming behaviour and suicide.

Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.

Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.

My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.

Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.

At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.

I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.

When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.

I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?

Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.

So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.

Best regards,

That Tall Redhead <3

Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂