Community Rainbow Waves

They’ll Never Stop Shining

Stars have always been present somehow in my life. This may seem like a weird way to start off, but trust me; it’ll make sense. I always would take a moment and pause when getting out of the car at night to look at the stars, even if there were barely any in the sky, I’d try my hardest to point one out. My first and middle names are named after my grandmothers names, which in greek translated to “shining star”. To me, it connected the stars to who I am and my roots. For me to have this weird connection to them, it was only fitting they’d be there in the moment.

It was the day after new years, 2017, and I had only just turned 16 a month prior. I was worried about going into my senior years of high school, who I was as a person and so many other things a 16 year old would be worried about. Turns out I wasn’t the only one, so two of my friends at the time, one of their mothers and I planned a small trip to one of their grandparent’s alpaca farm for three days to ease off some of the stress before we started one of our last years in high school. It was spacious and cozy, the alpacas’ fleece had just been cut a few days before and they all ran around along with the dog.

It was on the second day we were there that the three of us decided to set up a tent outside of the house and camp out. We talked about the most random things. A lot of it was me randomly interrupting conversation because I would mistake the noise of a wild kangaroo for a person, but that’s besides the point. We were all comfortable in our company and relaxed. One of my friends got tired and left the other and I outside the tent as she went to sleep. We continued talking for about everything and nothing till 3:30 in the morning. I don’t leave Sydney much, and when I do it’s usually to other cities;

I had never seen a sky so clear. I felt like I was looking upon galaxies, I’d never seen colour in the sky like I did then.

So, as the conversation naturally flew into the topic I told my friend, “I don’t think I’m straight.”

It was odd that I didn’t feel scared as I thought I was going to, I don’t know if it was the fact my friend was also queer that calmed me or the fact I was looking at a sight I had never seen before but felt so connected to. In that moment, even though I felt like there was still so much of me to figure out, I knew that was my truth and I was finally comfortable and confident to let someone know.

That whole conversation under the stars remains one of my favourites. I’m not as close wth the girl I told anymore but she told me it was one of her favourite conversations as well, which brightens a special place in my heart.

Since then, I’ve come out to all my friends and my sister. Though I still don’t know it all, one thing I know for sure is that when I pause for a moment to look up for a star in the sky- I’ll know even if I can’t see any, they’ll still be shining a light, somehow saying they see me. All of me.

And they see you too.

– Styliana | 19 | Queer | AU

Im Alex and im a queer 20 years old nonbinary guy from Argentina who uses he/they pronouns and wants to be fully himself once and for all.

I accepted that I was queer for the first time at 15 years old when I came out as lesbian, but really I have known that I like girls since I was 5 years old, tho It was super hard for me to accept as the world around me acted like LGBTQ+ people didnt even exist. It didint help that I was attending a very religious boarding school either. I thougth being queer was wrong, and when I came out to my friends and family everyone said to me they would love me in spite of me being who I was, witch didnt make things easier for me, it was as if being me was something bad that everyone was going to ignore to be able to love me anyways. At 16 I started to question mi gender identity, something that its still hard for me to acept. Knowing your self and discovering yoursefl is something extremely dificult, even more with the little nonbinary representation and all the jugdment that comes with being transgender, spetially in the nonbinary spectrum. I came out to my friends last year, felling like I couldnt keep it for myself any longer, felling the need for them to treat me like me, instead of like what I look like on the outside. The fear of what my family migth think is holding me back from speaking my truth, but Dom an everyone in the Start the Wave organization are inspiring me so much to speak up and be my most autentic self, to be true tu how I am, and share that with everyone, with the people I love, and to hopefuly inspire others to do so. So I want to thak all of you, I want to thank Dom and everone on Start the Wave, for helping and inspiring so many people, so much more than you could ever realize. I truly hope we can keep on creating a more loving and accepting world, and inspiring people to be they true self, and to shine brigth with every color of their soul.
(Also im truly sorry for any spelling error).
With so much love and gratitude in my heart, sending you all the suport and love I posibly can,
-Alex.

25 years to mature and bloom…like a good wine.

My journey of finding my true self started at the age of 14, I knew that the way I felt about one of my friends at school was slightly different and couldn’t quite grasp why I seem to connect so well with other girls. As this was the mid 1980’s there was no way I could even explore this as an option so I decided not do anything about it. I drifted through my teens and early 20s not even entertaining a relationship with anyone much less a woman. It was around the age of 28 when I was under pressure from people around me that I should really get married and settle down to have a family. In my heart I knew what I wanted but my head over ruled it so I met my husband and had a beautiful baby boy and was living the life others wanted for me. For six years I lived my life day to day doing all I could for my husband and son working hard and just getting on with life. I had always been close to my dad and out of the blue he rang to say let’s meet for lunch we need to talk which was very out of character as it’s not what we did. At lunch he asked me out of the blue………Sue why don’t you do something that will make you truly happy in your heart and make you the happy girl you grew up as. It will be scary but so worth it. I kept going over in my head what my dad had said…………….10 days after our lunch meeting my dad died in an accident at work but what he had said had woken something in me that I thought I had buried so deep I’d never find it again. Within in 3 months of his death I had sat my husband down and told him that I could not
be with him as I was lying to myself. I explained how I’d felt and been feeling most of my life and as much as it hurt he did understand. I wanted to be honest with him and my son as I didn’t want to go behind their back and live a double life. I didn’t rush into relationships but I knew now what I wanted. This was the first time in my life that the weight of the world had been lifted, I could breath and for that reason I bloomed…………..I was out shopping with my son and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen walked past me and I thought to myself I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her. I’m happy to say that 10 years later I live with this lady, my soul mate, my best friend and the love of my life. It wasn’t all plain sailing as I had to wait for her for 5 years as she was married……………but it was worth the wait. I have a beautiful 16 year old son who is caring and incredibly grounded, I had always been honest and open with him and he knows that whatever path he takes in life I will back him 100% as he did me from a very young age. I guess I didn’t really come out I just told my family this is who I love and I am very proud of loving this beautiful woman.

Be true to yourself and the rest will take care of itself x

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

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” 🙂

Loving all humans

I come from an very conservative military family so when I found out in middle school that I liked boys and girls equally I felt like my whole world was collapsing. I couldn’t talk to My family or seek their advice about this feelings and I didn’t have that many real friends so I started to feel like I didn’t know who I was. For years I put on a mask and only showed people what I wanted them to see. In 2018 my whole word changed. At the age of 22 I meet this girl what am so lucky to call my girlfriend. But that wasn’t easy. I finally told my family about her and me. They decided to send me a letter that said that they didn’t want to have anything to do with me and I was confused because “ as long as you love boys you are straight and just rebelling and trying to hurt us”.

I didn’t talk to them for 1 1/2 year. Now they say that they don’t respect it but have accepted.

My girlfriend and this community makes me strong and wanting to walk to the end of the world with my head held high and with a heart full of love and color.

Mica

Hola. Me llamo Micaela, soy de Argentina. Quisiera contar que soy bisexual y lo sé desde los 8 años. Pero recién a mis 25 pude contárselo por primera vez a una amiga y luego a mi hermana mayor. Fue gracias a que conocí a una compañera de trabajo suya y me gustó. Se lo conté llorando porque también le dije que durante toda mi infancia y adolescencia estuve enamorada de una compañera de colegio. Mis dos hermanas lo saben (soy la del medio), mi mamá, una tía y unas amigas. Pero no mi papá, porque no sé como podría reaccionar. Empecé la psicóloga hace un año porque supe que no iba a poder desentenderme mucho más tiempo de la situación. Sufrí mucho internanamente, lloraba todas ñas noches casi y no podía contárselo a nadie. No hay peor soledad que el mirarse al espejo y no reconocerse. Y esto me pasó por muchos años. Aún no me suelto del todo, pero cada día es un paso más a descubrirlo. Gracias por el espacio.

Bisexual

Growing up I was taught “God didn’t make us to be gay”, but now I’m an atheist so I say fuck the rules.

When I turned 14 I was met with the biggest challenge in my adolescent life ‘love’, I was told from a very young age that I will one day have my first crush and my first kiss with a boy I really like, but instead that ‘boy’ was changed into Rachel Lewis, a girl in my grade who stole my pens and my heart, she helped me accept a part of me I never thought I would and that was the fact that I was queer.

Rachel was a pretty toxic person to have a crush on, she played with my head, was super bipolar and ignored me for no reason other than the fact that she was bored. But even though she was a condescending bitch, a really pretty condescending bitch might I add, when we were talking about how we were in love with our English teacher every bad thing she had done just disappeared.

When I was 14, I assumed I was a lesbian, because of my lack of interest in boys at the time and my love for Katie McGrath, but then I later realized that……

I’m Bisexual

I think the reason I was so quick to diagnose myself with ‘lesbian’ was because of the lack of representation and understanding I had of bisexuals. I hear people talk about internalized homophobia, but this was internalized biphobia.

When I hit the ripe age of 16, I experienced for the first time, Homophobia and from my own mother, she had found out I was Bi by going through my messages, I was yelled at, hit, had my hair grabbed and dragged across the floor, I felt completely helpless.

But then I woke up

My body was in pain and my head hurt and at that moment I felt truly alone. My mother moved me to Australia with my Aunt forcing me to leave behind my friends, my sisters and Rachel Lewis.

This was a year ago and I still have the scar of that beating I got physically and mentally, I love my mum and am still in contact with her, I call her constantly and miss her a lot.

The part of her that doesn’t hate me deep down for being bi

I’m still in the closet with everyone. I haven’t had a girlfriend or boyfriend, yet which is depressing but writing this gives me a false sense of freedom I can only get from coming out, so I’ll say this once

If its love, fuck the rules

I’m Bisexual and proud

A badass graysexual lesbian

When I was younger, all my attempts at imagining myself marrying a man felt… off. So naturally I assumed that I just wasn’t someone who wanted to get married.
On my facebook account that I started at the age of 9 (dont arrest me) I had mistaken the sexuality question on the profile description as a question about what friends I would like to make. My facebook profile read “I am interested in girls” for everyone I know to see. I was 9 and had no clue what a lesbian was, but I certainly pretended to know when everyone at school started calling me that.

There were countless times where I would think to myself “the next boy who walks through the door will be my crush” just because I was so tired of my sister asking me if I had any crushes on the boys at school. In reality, I had no interest in them at all. In fact, I didn’t have any crushes on anyone and didn’t even feel attracted to people, which was very confusing and made me feel somehow defective.
Both of my sisters had relationships and crushes on guys and talked about how people were attractive but I just didn’t get it.

The first crush I had was in middle school, and it was my best friend. I still had no idea what was going on at that point, and only realized until it was too late and she had moved away. I put a lot of effort into research after that. By high school, I knew for sure that I was gay. Luckily at the school I attended, almost everyone in my friend group was part of the LGBTQ+ community and I even had the opportunity to join the LGBT club there! For the first time I felt seen by the people around me. There was no stress on coming out because we were all growing up with the same pressures and expectations that we hated. ‘Be normal’ ‘Be straight’ ‘Do what you’re told.’

My research also lead me to the asexuality spectrum. An infinite spectrum of the gray area of sexual libido on which I have come to fully recognize I will never find my exact place. However, knowing that my lack of sexual attraction was not some kind if mutation but instead just the way my brain worked was more than I could have ever asked for.
I felt safe to be who I was at school without the fear of being called names or being bullied for it (not to say I wasn’t bullied for other things, of course).

Coming out to my parents was not hard. For a while I felt bad or somehow inadequate because I didn’t have some tragic story, but then I realized that it was a fact that I should be greatful for.
My parents aren’t the only republicans in the world who are accepting of the LGBTQ+ community, but it is not common to positively associate those two things together.

I came out to my parents as graysexual the week after I did extensive research on it. It was a non-issue. My gayness, however, I kept hidden for four years.

Not because I purposefully hid it, though. Not once did I ever tell my parents “I like boys.” I never in my life wanted to ever have to LIE about who I was to anyone. They simply did not ask about my sexuality.
Except one day when I was 18, while I was sitting outside with my mom, she finally had the thought to ask if I liked boys at all.

I was nervous; caught completely off guard with the question I had never expected her to actually ask (despite the fact that she has previously asked about my gender identity and pronouns). Shakily, but nevertheless determined, I told her the truth.

“No, I’m gay.”

She seemed shocked at first, and asked me if I was serious (because sarcasm is a true commodity in my family). After I told her I was serious, she smiled, shook my hand, and said, “Alexa, play ‘I am Woman’.”
I distinctly remember the corner of my lips trembling anxiously as I tried to fight the smile that wanted to break out across my face. I had never been so open with my mother before about anything, and it was an odd feeling to feel accepted by her.
The rest of my family soon followed. My older sister thought I was joking and wasn’t paying attention the first five times I said it, so I had to grab her by the shoulders and say it directly in her face. She quickly hugged me and congratulated me then.
I told my dad, eldest sister, and her boyfriend all at the same time after hearing my sister’s boyfriend sing “I’m coming out”. I thought, why not? So I told them right then, and my sister said she already knew because she had seen all the gay shit I watch on my netflix account, haha.

I got hugs from all of them, and felt proud to be part of such an accepting family.

I did not know then that coming out was not an isolated experience. It is a constant task. A box that needs to be checked every time you make a friend. By the time I got to my third semester of college, I found I was tired. I wanted to see what it was like to not come out to friends for once.

Really long story short, I didn’t come out to a group of friends that I had incorporated myself into and I ended up accidentally going on a date with one of the guys who probably didn’t believe me when I told him that I’m gay. He then outted me to the entire group, and they proceeded to question if I really was a lesbian or if I just didnt want to date that guy.

It made me feel so inadequate. As if being a lesbian is some kind of last resort to get out of a bad date.

I started to feel very insecure about myself and after that incident I stopped hanging around those people, bought a ton of rainbow-themed clothes, and wore my rainbow bracelet obsessively for nearly a year. After that I never purposefully hid my sexuality again. I had seen the other side and the grass was putrid and yellow.

Due to some amazing friends and supportive family, I have become proud of who I am. I don’t hide anymore. I advocate for who I am and who I want to be. I get angry when things are unfair. I get sad when people are being hurt. I feel happy when I see part of who I am on TV more and more often as the years pass.

Other people have it a lot worse than me. Many of those people are my close friends, and it breaks my heart.

What my experiences have shown me is that I am lucky. Every day, I have people who support me and love me for who I am, and I am so damn grateful. I hope more than anything in the world that I am that person for someone else.

Love Conquers ALL

I was quite young when I started to realise that I didn’t love in the same way as my friends or most of the people around me. Growing up I had never really felt like I fit in – there always felt like there was something, perhaps a part of me, that was missing or undiscovered.

When I was around 13 years old, thanks to social media and other resources that exposed me to a whole community of kind, loving and accepting people, I started to view myself and the feelings I felt differently. At first, I was absolutely petrified of who I was; one of the memories I remember most was lying in my bed crying and whispering to myself over and over again ‘I’m not gay, I don’t like girls.’

Thankfully, I came to the realisation that it was okay to like girls and to be gay. In June 2016, I came out to my friends on Twitter as bisexual. I stuck with this label for almost two years because it felt ‘okay’. I still felt like it wasn’t correct but it sure as hell felt a lot better than trying to convince myself that I was straight.

The first time I came out to somebody in my ‘real life’ was in April 2018. She was one of my best friends and we were out at a park doing a photo shoot for one of my photography projects. We ended up staying on the park swings for about 3 hours, just talking about sexuality and my experience and such. This was the first time that I had said that I didn’t actually know what I wanted to label myself as, I just knew that I liked girls (and that I liked them a lot more than boys).

In June 2018, exactly 2 years after I first came out on Twitter as bi, I came out again, but this time as a lesbian. It was one of the most freeing feelings I have ever felt because, FINALLY, I could identify as something that made me feel authentic and true to myself. It took me a while to feel fully comfortable with the label because of the bad rap the label is given as it is fetishised by the porn industry. But today I can easily, and happily, announce that I am a lesbian and that I am proud of that.

Throughout the 2 years since coming out to my friend in 2018, I have come out to so many more people. Old friends from secondary school (actually, most of my whole year group from secondary school through a post to my Instagram Story) and new friends from sixth form.

But the most recent person that I came out to is the one that makes me proudest. In February of this year (2020), I came out to my older sister. I couldn’t say the words out loud so I just sent her a link to a YouTube video of a ‘coming out’ song that somebody had made for this particular situation. I sobbed and she held me close when we hugged. She told me that she loved me and that she didn’t care who I loved. I can’t remember if she said so or not, but I know that she is proud of me.

The only other family member that knows is one of my cousins of the same age but I know that one day I will be able to fully be myself in front of all of my family and that this is only the beginning.

As part of the LGBTQ+ community, we are always coming out. Whether 2 days down the line or 10 years. Even so, the feeling of relief and joy that we experience when we tell somebody who accepts it without question is something that I will never forget or take for granted.

As I said at the start; I don’t love in the same way as my friends or a lot of the people around me. But that’s okay because love is complex and it comes in so many different forms. And every single one of them is beautiful. Because love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love.

I finally feel like I fit in somewhere. I have finally found the missing jigsaw pieces that make me, ME.

I am a lesbian, I love girls.
But, most importantly, I am ME.

-Lily

#Loveislove #LoveConquersALL