Community Rainbow Waves

My coming-out journey : 20 years old lesbian in France

I have turned 20 only a few months ago, but it took me some time to identify and accept who I am: a proud lesbian.

When I was around 12, I talked with a girl who were a few years older than me and who was bisexual. My first question (once I learned what it was from her), was: “How did you know?”
For me, who didn’t even know that heterosexuality wasn’t the only sexuality existing, it was a chock! Her answer gave me the final electroshock I needed: “I just know”.
She just knew! What an answer for the young girl that I was! And from this point, I started thinking. I remembered all the times were I looked at girls, all the times I wanted to be close to them, all the times I had feel things that I didn’t know how to interpret when I looked at some of my friends… And then I compared it with how I was reacting to boys, especially the ones that I dated (even if, well, dating at 12 years old isn’t much more than holding hands and playing video games). The more I thought about it the more I realized that even the fact of holding the hand of my boyfriend was something that gave me goose bumps, and not the right kind.

A few years passed, and when I started high school I still didn’t accepted myself as a lesbian. I had only decided to hide this, even if I didn’t really know about homophobia and all. I wanted to be like everyone else, not different. And it wasn’t exactly as if a lot of cartoon characters were queer when I grew up, so the only person that I knew was queer was the bisexual girl from when I was 12! What a great representation of diversity!
But, one day, I just couldn’t hide the truth to myself anymore: I was having a mega crush on my best friend! Very soon I told her, and even if it was a little difficult for me to live with that, she totally accepted me. And it was the first step of my coming-out.
At first, I still didn’t really accept that I was a lesbian, so, I decided to tell my friends that I was bisexual. Like that I could still hide the part of me that loved girls… and I started dating boys again. Not my best idea since the few kiss that I had with them made me so mentally sick that I couldn’t be close to a guy in the next months without frowning ! (Yeah I must have been dramatic too, but hey, what do you expect from a queer artistic woman?). Anyway, I quickly realized after that, that boys weren’t at all what I wanted.

From there, I decided to tell my friends that I was a lesbian. They all accepted me and supported me. And it was so freeing to finally admit it! It didn’t mean that I was really “proud” of it. My friends knew it, but I didn’t want other people to know.
Then, I told my parents, who were totally supportive, and I’ll always remember my mom saying: “Yeah, I never pictured you coming home with a guy. I guess I just knew”.
I was 18 and my friends and parents knew who I was, they supported me, but me I had still issues with this. I had to wait to enter to university and to meet with new friends, who were all queer, to really admit and be proud of my sexuality. I met with all kind of person who had other genders and sexualities than what I had knew my whole life. They accepted me, and seeing them this free and proud just made it easier for me to feel the same way.

I’m 20 now, and I’m a proud out lesbian. Well, out, yes and no. I don’t really fell like my coming-out is really over, because they’re still two people at whom I haven’t said anything: my grandparents. I know that they’re homophobic and absolutely non-supportive of difference. We already have a complicated relationship, and I’m afraid of telling them this about me, because I’m pretty sure that it would mean the end of our relationship…
So yeah, I’m proud of who I am and don’t hide it anymore. I’m glad to be in the light and to be out, but I know that I haven’t really finished my coming-out journey. Telling my grandparents will be my last step in order to completely be honest about all this.

If I have learned something from all of this is that no matter who you are, if you aren’t ready, you don’t have to come into the light. All that matters is to do it at your own rhythm, step by step. Coming-out is the most freeing experience of my life, and I’m glad that I had to do it in order to be who I am today, but it isn’t something that must be forced on you: you just have to take your time and do it when you’re ready.

Gay (lesbian)

By pure chance I came across some videos on YouTube that brought me to Dominique’s profile and read this incredible post. Everything I have read has inspired me, I have felt identified and has made me wonder about so many things in my life.

I am 28 years old and since I was 12 or 14 years old I was attracted to women, men only saw them as friends, despite feeling all this I only dated men.

At the age of 22 I decided to stop and accept myself, accept that it was impossible for me to have sex with men and I did not see myself with any of them. I sat down with my best friends and told everything I had hidden until that day, it should be noted that my best friends are gay and I was still afraid. My friends understood.

Today with 28 years, I still feel that I am afraid to talk about it with other people, even my family does not know it, this has brought me problems of having a relationship as I would really like to have it. I am patient with myself and with the stages of my life.

This post has made me think and reevaluate my values, my passions, my whole life, rethink what I want and it has let me know that I have neglected a part of me that feels imprisoned. I want to be happy.

Robbie

I probably first realised that I was queer when I was about twelve years old but I wasn’t quite aware of it. I was just aware of the fact that I felt different. Then when I was around 14 I met some people who really changed my life and I think they honestly saved my life. They helped me realise myself not by doing anything specific but by just being themselves and embracing me. They helped me be open even when I was so scared. I went to my first ever pride (Exmouth pride in Devon) with them and I was so utterly scared that someone I knew from outside that group of friends might see me but they helped me to enjoy myself and it’ll always be such a treasured memory of mine. The first person I came out to that wasn’t also part of the lgbt+ community was one of my best mates when we were 16 and I can say that it thankfully went unbelievably well. Since then I’ve come out to a lot more people then I ever thought I would at this point in my life. It’s thanks to such incredible representation in the media such as wayhaught that have helped me come to terms with who I am and I can finally feel comfortable with who I am and who I love. It’s a process and I’m still learning, about myself as I tell more and more people. I can honestly say that I wouldn’t be heading to university feeling happy and content if it weren’t for people like you Dominique Who have such courage to stand up and be themselves so to you and everyone in the lgbt+ community I say thank you and to those still struggling, it gets better I promise, so much better.

It will be okay.

I guess if I really think about it, I always knew I was bisexual…. But growing up, it would be either “you’re straight or you’re gay”, there’s no in between…. And I liked both genders, so what did that make me? I was really scared and didn’t want to be different, so I focused on the “straight side”…
But it wasn’t until last April that I started to really find myself. I guess what I really needed was to have the right people by my side, and I can’t express in words how thankful I am for them. They made me question what I really want and who I really am. I guess I was always so scared to think about it, but when I talked about it out loud for the first time, I felt so relieved…. So free… So myself… And since then it has been a journey. It still is. When I told my high school friends I didn’t know what they would think. They had questions (what I was expecting) but they took it really well.
I still haven’t told my family. I guess I’m still to afraid to do so. I know my mother would be really cool about it, and it wouldn’t be a surprise to my sister (I think she already knows..?), but I don’t know what my father would say… And my grandparents don’t really like queer people… And my family means the world to me.
So I guess I’m still finding my way, but at least I feel so much more confident in my own skin. I think coming out is a journey, one I’m taking at my own pace, but I know I’m gonna be okay in the end. And in the end, it doesn’t matter if I make it with a man or a woman, as long as I’m happy it shouldn’t matter what the otheres think.

Bisexual

When I was kid growing up all I knew and was taught was that same sex marriage isn’t normal it isn’t right. That I needed to marry a man and give my mom and grandma grand baby’s. However as time went in and I moved away from my grandmothers believes I saw how much different I became not always wondering how I’m going to be looked at for you I love. I got more comfortable being myself around my fiends and admitting to them that I am a women who loved both women and men.
My friends accepted me with open harms some even confided in me and came out to me. I found out how out how it felt to be in a relationship with both genders and see how I became as my true self.
By the age of 14 I came out to my parents. They were both so supportive and proud that I was finally able to tell them my true self. They also told me how they always knew they just wanted me to figure it out myself. They welcomed me with open arms and showed me how I can be who I am around them without any worries. About a year or two later I came out the my grandma which was the hardest person I have ever came out to. At first she wasn’t okay with it she didn’t want to believe this is who I am. But after time when she saw that he wasn’t going to let her be the reason as to why I’m going to change am who I am she saw how much love this community gave out to everyone, she saw all the positivity that the lgbtq+ community gave to everyone struggling with finding them true selfs and realized that there is nothing wrong with me being open about myself and showing the world that I don’t give a fuck with what they have to say as long as I’m happy!
That’s all that really matters in life that I worry about myself only. And help me be more happy and confident in who I have become in these last few years.
So here I say to all of you;
Do not let others tell you who you can and cannot love.
Do not let people make you think what you feel is wrong

Sit down with yourself and tell yourself “I’m okay I’m strong and I can get through anything in life. I got this just gotta keep my head up! “
Show yourself some love!
Keeping being you no matter what anyone says.

I am a proud bisexual Latina woman who is still showing others around me that it is okay to be yourself even if that means having to go through rough patches in order to prove that I could care less with what people think of me because I’m a proud fucking bitch and I ain’t about to apologize for being me. So if anyone has a problem with it, then honey don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out

Abigail, 24, Lesbian

I remember being in high school and finding it extremely difficult to find a connection with the opposite sex. I was pressured by societal norms and my own family to date men, as I know most women are. In my world, things were falling apart. I was bombarded with questions from my conscience: Why didn’t I feel like every other girl? Why couldn’t I feel something, anything for a man? I felt like something was wrong with me and I isolated myself. I spent a lot of time in the art room devoting myself completely to my work. I guess this was a way for me to get my stresses out and to ignore that part of myself that I was so confused about. I did eventually date men in high school, but I was confirming what I felt was real. It was around my senior year of high school that I realized what was going on. I found myself attracted to celebrities, but of the female type. Haha! And after finding my real self, I decided to go to prom…by myself. A bold move, yes, but one where I could be who I wanted to be. I remember standing in room waiting for the doors to open and my friends talking to me about why I was by myself. I told them that I was gay. My one friend who I didn’t know was listening turned and very loudly exclaimed, “You’re gay!?” Let me tell you that everyone in the senior class was there and turned towards me. My response? My cheeks turning red and my heart about to beat itself out of my chest. But then the craziest thing happened; everyone started coming up to me and hugging me and congratulating me. I have never felt more accepted in my life. After that moment, I finally felt ready to come out to my parents and the rest of my family. I told my mom first and I cried my heart out when I told her. She quickly leaned in and hugged me. This hug gave me comfort and relief. She told me that she did not care who I loved, as long as I was happy. This was the good part. My dad was not so happy, with the familiar statement of, “It’s just a phase.” To those who will be reading this, I tell you now that it is not a phase. Be true to yourself and always pursue happiness no matter how many obstacles you find standing in your way. Now to continue, I will let you know that the journey with the rest of my family was difficult, but over time, they started to see the true me. They accepted who I was and I cannot ask for more than that. It was also helpful that I started to find people out there like me. I knew I wasn’t alone. That is when I knew I was a part of this wonderful community of loving people with beautiful souls. We all know that love is love and we have all been through very dark moments. But it is not these moments that define us, it is how we react to them. Together we rise and fight against the hate. From the words of Mother Teresa: “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.” So, let’s start the wave. Love you all, from an American soldier, a loving friend, a human – Abigail.

When a trauma becomes a blessing, the struggle of the invisibility of bi people.

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

I realize when I was four that I liked boys and girls the same way, but when felt so confused when adults would call my boy crush my boyfriend and my girl crush my best friend. Then about 5 years later my sisters came out as gay and that’s when I realize that it was not the norm, she was met with so much hurt, mean comment, and hitting that it shut me up and all the shame arrive. But I didn’t feel like my sister, because I also loved boys and for so long I truly believed that everybody did also love everyone, but were too ashamed to admit it. And then started middle school. My younger self was thrown in a catholic school in the south of France and there I met this girl. Beautiful and funny soul and I fell in love with her, but I didn’t really understand it, dah just 12 years old, and apparently was quite obvious about it. And Gosh this is hard to write, but let me reassure you I’m all good now so no worries. After a few months of hanging out with that girl, I was one day attack in the school bathroom by two 14 years old boys, clearly, there were not weel and past their frustration on me, and they just raped me in the bathroom with the excuse that they were going to cure me, that I was not “straight enough” and their penis was the solution, which clearly it wasn’t. It took me 12 years to be able to overcome that event and openly talk about it. After suffering from PTSD, amnesia, had to re-learn how to read and write after I forgot it because of the trauma. After battling with internalize biphobia, self-harm, depression, and anxiety, Finally, it got better. I moved to Switzerland when I was 16 and was met with so much acceptance and love for the community swiss people and little by little started healing. And then in the summer of 2019 discovered the tv show Legends and Wynonna Earp and was so touched by how the actresses talk about there role and how Emily talked about the importance of positive representation and that were it all truly got better. It was the first time I heard the bisexual word use in a positive way and not as an insult or a sexual joke, which was such a revelation. To have that positive community of Earpers really helped. And I came out last November, at 24, to my family and they all really had progressed in there ideas and were all so supportive and then came out to everyone and being in Switzerland every one was so supportive, which was a really amazing feeling. I feel lucky now to be part of a support group of bi/pan people and participated in a lot of queer events organized in Switzerland. I’m sorry to anyone who felt triggered reading that but this story is actually a beautiful one, because I have now forgiven all of those people and hurt me out of ignorance and feel privilege now to be able to help educate and support the LGBT+ community here in Geneva, gay marriage here is still not allowed so still a lot of work to do. Anyway, all of those traumas were hard and at the same time a blessing in many ways. I am now a sweet vegan, queer, loving woman who does her best to make the world a better, more accepting place for everyone. So bless you all it can always get better and sorry for the writing, not my first language. love you all, melody.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

I had been holding my breath for so long, and I needed to exhale at one point or another, or I would explode from holding it in.

I’ve had crushes on girls for as long as I can remember. Never made much of it, figured it was “normal”. Thought maybe it was just because I admired them and wanted to be them, or that it was a typical part of growing up.

In high school, I had crushes on boys and girls. I didn’t know much about anything back then, so I figured it was just a phase and one side would fade and disappear over time. That I was just figuring myself out and, one day, one side would win.
Since all I knew that existed was either gay or straight, it had to be one or the other, right?

I always hoped I would end up being only into boys, so that I could be “normal”. I wanted to be normal more than anything in this world.
My whole life, I had never fit in at all. With anyone, or anywhere. So I needed to at least be “normal” for one freaking thing, you know what I mean?

But then in college… I mean, classic story I guess, I fell for my straight female best friend. It didn’t go anywhere, but because at the time the only representation of bisexuality was the toxic version I had seen in the media, as well as the horrible things people would say about bisexuals, I decided to bury my attraction to guys.
I could NOT be bi… I’d rather be gay than bi. The examples I had seen were evil and toxic, and I just couldn’t be like them. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Never. Nope.

So I did everything I could to bury that side of me.
I would be so mean to myself.
…Fear and shame can make you think terrible words and do terrible things.

After a while, still in college, I ended up coming out as a lesbian. I hoped that by saying it, it would make it real. That it would erase the other part I didn’t want to think about.
I came out online to my classmates, after testing the waters for a while, trying to see if they would be accepting or not.

It was mostly fine. The more religious ones would often remind me that I would be going to hell for it, but apart from that it was great and the guys invited me to hang out with them. That was fun 🙂

Some time later, I came out to my parents through a letter I left in a place I knew they’d see it.

I was absolutely terrified they would kick me out.

The thing is… I come from a really judgmental family. My mum is very religious, but I’ve also heard a lot of racist and homophobic things growing up. And that’s just a tiny part of the range of judging comments I’ve heard all my life.

I’ve never been close to my family.
Discussions have never been a thing.
Disagreements mean either silence or terrible fights. Or both.

So I had no idea how that would turn out, but I felt like I needed to do it, if only to stop hearing “when are you gonna get a boyfriend?” that always tore me up inside.

I couldn’t breathe. I had been holding my breath for so long, and I needed to exhale at one point or another, or I would explode from holding it in.

Fortunately, in the end it was okay. I mean, at least they didn’t kick me out.

The “conversation” lasted for about 2 minutes, max, and then we never spoke about it again. (Except for the “maybe it’s just a phase” that I got a few times over the early years.)

That was around… 2004 I think?

Then once, in a birthday message a few years ago, my mum mentioned that she hoped I would find a woman I could be happy with. But that’s pretty much it. (And even today, I still hear homophobic things sometimes when I visit, if there’s something on TV about our beautiful community.)

Some time after I came out to my parents, I came out by email to most of my extended family. Again, I’ve never been close to anyone, and it’s always been easier for me to write than speak, so that’s how I chose to do it.
As far as I know, they’re all accepting. The ones I’ve told, anyway. But for other reasons, I stopped seeing them around that time, so who knows, really.

But to this day, except my godmother who I told recently when the topic came up, they all still think I’m gay.
Since emotionally I’ve only fallen for women, I didn’t want my parents to start hoping I would end up with a man when I don’t see it ever happening.

I mean, I’m pansexual, so I could end up with anyone I connect with no matter their gender, but… I’ve fallen for 3 women so far. No one else.

When I find “the one”, I want to finally feel safe using my chosen label. But until then, I feel safer just not talking about it around my parents.

But speaking of pansexuality… At some point I decided that no matter what society thought about bisexuality, I was only hurting myself by trying to fight who I was.
And then I heard about pansexuality, and it was the first label that I really connected with. The definition made so much sense to me, and it just felt right.

The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. Falling for someone’s soul, regardless of their gender, regardless of their genitalia, made all the sense in the world to me.
And by learning about the different labels, by finding great people who identified as them, I started to really accept myself and eventually started to love this part of me.

I mean… I’m just me, you know? 🙂

I’m also out in my workplace now. Took me years and for an openly gay man to be hired for me to feel safe enough to do it, but it’s done. Haven’t had any problems so far.

And I want to believe that I would also be open if I ever got a different job.

I can’t go back to hiding. I need to breathe.
Now that I know how great and freeing it feels to have air moving through my lungs, I don’t want to hide this huge part of who I am.

And today, well… I’m just fighting for better representation. And for bisexuality and pansexuality to be seen in a better light (and to be seen, period), so that the next generations don’t have to feel all the shame I’ve felt back when I was still figuring it out.

Labels or no labels, people should have access to amazing examples of every shade of our beautiful and colourful rainbow, so they can find a place to fit in somewhere along the way.

I’m convinced that love is stronger than everything else, so… I do believe that one day love will truly win.

And what a world this will be. x

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.