Community Rainbow Waves

I am a gay woman

For as long as I can remember I have always been attracted to girls. One of my breaking point was my first kiss in 2 grade with one of my guy best friends. I thought “EW” this is not want I want. I was young and did not understand the concept of being gay. So for years I hid that part of myself deep down inside until one day it decided to reappear, I was 14 years old. At this point in time I understood what it meant for girls to like girls. But I was afraid. I didn’t want people to think things about me. The stigma that stems from girls dressing “tomboy” means they are gay. Which was me. I have always worn boys clothes which I thought was normal! I grew up with 2 older brothers and always looked up to them! But then came in the bullies. I decided to repress my true identity again and again and again. Then years later we are finding ourselves in this unrealistic situation so bizarre, with our world so broken. But during these times I had time to ponder, ( and download TikTok which was also another breaking point in figuring out my sexuality). I finally realized that life is not to be taken for granted. We don’t know how long we have on this dying rock we call earth. So why spend it living it as someone else?

When I finally came out about 4 months ago, I felt like a weight was lifted off my chest. I could be finally be myself, proudly.

I am Chloé, 19 , BI and proud

I started “wondering if” about a few years ago I think, I remember getting really defensive any time there was any form of negativity towards the community and in the beginning I just thought that I was an ally. More and more I saw the LGBTQI+ community represented and I felt so happy and proud.
When I learned more about Bisexuality I began wondering if it would be possible that I “belong in that category” (for lack of better words). I knew I liked boys, but then started wondering “but can you like girls as well?”.
About a year and a half ago I had a dream in which I kissed a girl, and I noticed that that wasn’t weird at all.
More and more since that moment I noticed the representation of Bisexuality in shows, movies etc.
About a year ago I noticed a girl flirting with me and found myself thinking “I would’nt mind if she kissed me” (which didn’t happen). And then I started rewatching shows, watching new shows and finding comfort in strong and proud Bisexual female characters (Hope, Josie, Waverly …)

At the end of January this year I came out for the first time online, a few weeks later to my younger sister and my mum and a few weeks ago to my dad (with a powerpoint nonetheless, extra I know).
I have been so much happier since then and have found this amazing community so all I want to say is THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART

I am bisexual

During high school. When I got my current girl friend, I came out to my best buddy and one of my close aunt. Only 2 of them that I told them personally. One day, 1 of my BFF noticed my interactions with my girl friend and confronted me. That’s where I’m forced to come out to another few of my BFF.

Just a human who loves humans, but tends to focus more on women

I am 16. I’ve “known” about this part of myself that finds other girls attractive as well as some boys for almost 4 years now. That’s almost 4 years that I have spent trying to suppress that part of myself and keep it a secret. That’s almost 4 years of burying, shaming and building mass anxiety inside me.

An issue I have discovered about myself is my tendency to want to “fit in”. The last thing I would want is for others to think of me as different. My biggest fear about sharing this part of me with someone is that it might change their perspective of me or, even worse, they might tie me in with their preconceived thoughts/views. Whether they be good or bad views, I just want them to think of me as that same girl before the big ole conversation. Because that’s the truth. I am still the same me.
The one thing that has made me feel sane over the years in this fine, industrious closet is the representation I see on screen. I’m lucky enough to be growing up in this time of change, where more and more queer characters are being portrayed in film and television. All I can say is that it warms my heart to see this growing community of queer characters and representation in the things I watch, and it never fails to make me feel seen and normal.
And in part, I can thank you, Dom, for being one of those people who made and continue to make me understand that being a part of this wonderful rainbow we all ride on, is okay.

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.

THE WAY TO YOURSELF BEGINS WITH LOVE

Love for a woman is the most beautiful thing that happened in my life.

I’ve always been a weird kid who wasn’t interested in relationships. I didn’t like boys and I didn’t like girls. I was fascinated by my inner world and the mysteries that fill my life. But I confess: “All my life I have been looking for a friend with whom I would like to share my discoveries.”

At the age of 16, I went to another school and met a girl. It seemed to us that we were once very close, which amazed us. One accident helped me become aware of my feelings. Unfortunately, they were not reciprocal. I was able to suppress these feelings in order to move on.

From the very beginning it seemed so natural to me. The only reason I tested myself for a long time, trying to be normal, is our legislation. Most likely, I will never have a full-fledged family … But it is easier to accept this than to pretend all my life.

None of my relatives know about this. I don’t want to lose my only family. And I don’t want to hurt them. But with close friends, I am absolutely frank. This gives freedom to me and to them. Very soon I fell unrequitedly in love again, but chose a new path.

Once a persone I loved said: “Unconditional love is possible only for God.” And I smiled …

I think that to love a person whom you don’t hear, don’t see, don’t know whether he is smiling now or sadness fills his heart … and even more so you don’t have the opportunity to be near, to bare yourself in front of him … This is the same as to love God.

After all, all you know is that he Is. And at some point it becomes enough for you.

My soul has always resisted the understanding of Love as an internal state. After all, I was sure that love is, first of all, a manifestation … without which any important words lose all value. And these feelings (be it inspiration or immense emptiness) without action are most likely nothing more than a need for acceptance and recognition. Since you feel so important because of the other. And this is actually enough for many people.

But when you Love, one state seems so little. There is a growing feeling of overcrowding. It’s like a cup inside you, which will soon overflow … Or a growing tree, directed upward, which is blocked by a stone roof, not allowing it to become even larger and more powerful.

Subsequently, a moment comes when you lose the meaning of life… It’s scary, hard, and aimless.

Every day the same question: “Why? What is the meaning of everything that happens to you, what is born in you, changes you, inspires you, but also throws you against a concrete wall? ” Even if you do not even have the right to say “I love you” … In any case, in the sense that is genuine.

But you don’t want to get rid of it…

It’s so easy to erase someone from your heart, stifle it in yourself and move on, continuing your search. But only weak people do this. This is the path of those who expect love from others but don’t love others. You know … When you do not want to give up on anyone, consciously dooming yourself to loneliness, the appearance of that very only person gradually dissolves. His figure slowly disappears, but the feeling remains with you.

Now I look into the eyes and find God in them, I see a blurry silhouette, behind which the whole world is.

I was finally able to feel that everything in the world exists as a whole. One soul that knew nothing but chaos until it incarnated in the material world. That is why when you meet a person who seems similar, understandable and so familiar to you, you get the feeling that you have returned home.
It always seemed to me that to be spiritual means to be in such a state of consciousness in which you identify yourself with everything living and nonliving that exists in this world or another.

Now I also identify the people I love with the Universe. They are an integral part of it, just like me. This means that we are all small parts of each other.
This gives so many opportunities for my Love that I have not found before. And if I want to show my feelings, I can do it at any moment, under any circumstances, and wherever I am. Then the world, albeit imperceptibly, will change.

In this moment, I realize that I love life like I never did before. And I so want to know her. Since life itself is Love. Now I listen to music differently, I read books differently, my fingers touch the strings of the guitar in a new way, my arms hug my relatives differently, and my eyes look at the stars in a different way.

These feelings are so pleasant. Something warm and bright shines inside me.

The body seems light, and complex things seem surprisingly simple.

It’s incredible how beautiful everything around me is, and it deserves the greatest love.

So one person becomes the whole world.

I will go my own way and sow seeds, in the expectation that the most beautiful buds will bloom in those places someday. And you will feel their wonderful scent, or you will even be able to enjoy the dazzling colors and amazing shapes.

And I still believe that I will be lucky enough to meet someone who is as in love with life as I am to love it together.

After all, when I am gone, the world will continue to exist. And I want that in this world there would be more Life!

It’s all about Genders and Boundaries: When all I feel is Love.

When I was little, my mom always put me in a variety of dresses, which, let’s face it, was never practical for the sporty girl I was.
I was about 10 years old when I ran down the hallway and jumped in my Stepmom’s arms at the end of The TIME OF MY LIFE (Dirty Dancing). And, because I trusted her with all my heart, because I think she picked me blushing when Jennifer Grey would appear on the screen,
The next day, she casually came out as bisexual as if she had just announced the weather. I blushed, chocked on my dinner and avoided my family’s eye contact.
I felt shame. I felt ashamed of the spectrum she had put words upon in such an easy way in front of my wide (queer) eyes open. Because it is what we are taught to avoid: Looking at it in the bright light.
But soon, I felt love. When she taught us about this intimate journey, smoothing the path under my footsteps as if in a look, she knew, that I just started my wild ride towards my inner self.
As I grew up, I started putting on loose clothing, for the easy purpose of being comfortable until it wasn’t a choice anymore. Due to back issues, I wore a corset, 24/7 for 5 years, the exact time of my puberty. I had to shop exclusively in the man section which means, I quickly met judgment, hate and violence from my said friends.
But I had this beautiful light of strength still burning somewhere in me. So, because I had no control over my body or the pain, I decided to cut my hair. I took control and I looked at society, with no woman form, short hair, and surely no confidence and what you can imagine happened. I became a little boy to the eyes of the world. And for a second, it felt simple, I was finally allowed to be attracted to girls too.
Quickly, it felt wrong, I was proud to be a Woman. I wanted everyone to see me as one. I hated that to be myself, I had to be seen as “different”. Still, I was week, young ad broken. So, I grew my hair back an in a way, I gave up. I ran away from every crowd, I feared people noticing me.
Until someone made me realized that I would never shine brighter to MYSELF, being THEIR idea of a woman, if I just disappeared.
She was the first girl of my age with short hair. Unless, she wasn’t staring at the crowd, frightened to be seen differently. So, I asked her, an easy question: “How did you do it?”
And she answered: “Well, I loved it. And if it’s what you love. If you feel yourself when doing it, then screw everybody’s opinion, you’re the one who can write your story.”
The wild journey towards happiness began at this point. Of course, I did cut my hair. And eventually, discovered the power of dressing as you want. Far away from anyone’s expectations, full of colours and patterns, I became the gendered fashion’s tightrope walker. One step in every section, a style in all.
I came out to my family, who were obviously expecting it (especially my stepmom and slowly the rest of them).
I managed to seduce for the past two years, a wonderful, brave and smart woman to stand by my side.
And, Yes,
It is still incredibly frightening, and hard, every day, not to be able to put myself out in the world, without earrings and be misgendered.
But I’m kind to myself. I think I’m pretty great and really, I’m only 18. My whole life is ahead of me, and I don’t know more than 1 per cent of my future self.
What I know is,
I’ll make sure that this 1 big per cent is kind and loving and brings light to other people’s eyes and hearts.
So that one day, I get to sit down at a dinner table and open a new colourful and safe world to a dreamy, blushing, beautiful human being.

Midori Mori

Growing up, I didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that I was different. I never needed words like Tomboy, gay, or Freaky Freshman Asian to know that I didn’t belong in a crowd of one million. But people would always feel the need to remind me of this everyday. Whether it was the moms who would cram their daughters into a bathroom stall if they saw me come in or the adults who would kick me out of locker rooms, all I could assume was that I was disgusting.

Indecent. That was the scent that followed me. A smell so pungent that it would only worsen if one tried to wash it off; A fragrance that’s been rubbed into society since the beginning of time. So I wore a mask called shame made out of lies. The more lies I smeared onto it the harder it was to breathe. Until I met a teacher who asked me to strip away the 40-ton shield I was holding. And even as my hands were shaking she managed to pull off that mask; extinguishing the fear that laid beneath it. Taking in a breath of clean air, I realized that I slowly stopped smelling this indecency and in turn, others did too.

We are told growing up that “different” meant imperfection. Imperfection meant ugly. But I want this to serve as a mirror for those like me who grew up without one. I want people of all identities and backgrounds to read this and understand that it’s okay to stand out, it’s okay if you don’t know where you stand. Because far worse than being oppressed for your differences is knowing that you’ve spent your life pleasing people at the expense of your happiness. Happiness we all deserve.

I’m a non binary/genderqueer and I like girls

When I was only eight I realized that I liked girls, I didn’t understand the world like I do now and I didn’t know homophobia in it self. So I told my friends when I was something like 9. At the young age of eleven I decided to tell my mother of what I forced myself to be bisexuality, thinking that if she did not accept my homosexuality she wouldn’t be so mad. I am extremely lucky to be in a very understanding and open minded family. My mom said she was very proud of me to have the courage to speak my truth and to know who I was and accept it at only 11. At about twelve a girl in my class literally screamed that I was gay. I thought I was ready and whenever I would come out to one of my friends, it would this time be as lesbian. For two years I was bullied. I started having panic attacks everyday and I didn’t want to go to school anymore. When it became to overwhelming I thought about hurting myself (and I sometimes still do)… I did once or twice but nothing”extra”. At that point my dad knew I was gay and he helped like my sister who is, herself, an asexual biromantic. I had my friends and family to relate on and went to see a therapist. I’m now better and help a lot of my queer friends come out and know that it ok to be who we are and that we shouldn’t be ashamed. For a while I thought I was genderfluid and soon I realized that I felt like using they/them pronouns all the time. It felt right. Although it wasn’t easy understanding the gender confusion I was going threw, people were there and they had my back. I felt safe. I now use the term non binary/genderqueer and the pronouns they/them & she/her. All of that said I am only going to turn 15 in a few months and I still have a lot to learn and emotions to go threw. I am extremely lucky to be surrounded by open minded people. I know some don’t have that particular luxury. And I want to do everything in power to help them.

I hope my story will make a difference somehow. Love and know that you are not alone.

I’m not much of a writer, but due to the inspiration I am feeling to share my story, I will do my best!

I didn’t come out until I was 21. Before then, I could barely say the words “lesbian, “gay,” or “queer.” I think because deep down, I know that was who I was-well one small part of me. In undergrad, I fell in love with another woman, whom I believe also had feelings for me, but due to being a member of a evangelical and fundamentalist religious group, I was told that those feelings are not valid and I would be an “abomination” if I acted on them. Interestingly enough, I come from an extremely supportive family and my siblings also identify within the LGBTQ+ community. Yet, at the time I was trying to find my own identity and the friends I found through this religious group were the only ones I was surrounding myself with. As I started to realize my attraction towards my own identified gender, these two identities between religion/faith and sexuality became a conflict. Anxiety came, depression came, and I knew I needed to do something about it. I was in an introduction to counseling class in my undergraduate studies, and one of our projects was to go to counseling-specifically at an on-campus clinic where counselors in training (graduate students) were practicing their skills with undergrads. This was better than writing a paper so of course I’ll do the counseling! What came of this was the realization of how much I disliked and even hated myself, without even understanding quite yet that the reason for this was my same-sex, same-gender attraction. After my counseling stopped with this clinic, I sought out counseling at the university’s counseling/psychological services. The therapist I met there-whom I saw for four years-saved my life. And helped me save mine. Therapy was tough. It pushed me and made me uncomfortable at times, but these were the important moments. My therapist helped me to bring my own self-awareness to the self-hatred I was using to sabotage myself, but also where this came from. It took about three years (by my senior year) for me to leave that religious group, begin to accept and validate my own feelings for what they were, and started dating my first girlfriend. It was scary, it was a big unknown, and ultimately, I was scared of Rejection. I was rejected by my “friends” from the religious group for having the resilience to go through what I did and to tell them my truth. I began going to a religious group that DID accept who I am, and began surrounding myself with supportive people. I am now 28 years old, have my graduate degree in counseling-the same program from which I first received those counseling services for the class I took-and am working in the mental health field to help others, like the individuals who helped me. I’ve assisted others through my career by listening and validating their thoughts and feelings and most importantly, Accepting them. I’m only able to truly do this now as I have accepted myself and love myself for who I am. It’s important to continue growing and learning, not just about ourselves but about others and their cultures, and fight back injustices we see. It’s the actions, not the words that true show advocacy. I’ll end it there but thank you so much, Ms. Provost-Chalkley for being you and for instilling this inspiration to share my own story.

I had some of my first thoughts about being with girls when I was about 9 or so years old. Prior to that I had never really been interested in anyone or being with any one in a romantic way. At this point in my life I didn’t even know being queer was an option. Although I do live in an accepting home, There were never any situations where I was exposed to this kind of love. At the time, I had just thought I was being weird, and I kind of just lost interest in even thinking about anyone in a special way, whether that’s because I was trying to hide my true self, or that’s just who I was I still don’t know. Fast forward 3 years or so, I had met two friends in school and gradually we grew closer together. Over the summer us 3 would face time nearly every day, and they knew a secret that I didn’t because they were friends before they knew me. One of them was gay. That declaration got me thinking, and opened up a door in some ways. I thought about whether that could be me, but I always just though, “No, you just want to be like her.” Because I admired her in a way, and still do. And then I stumbled across a wonderfully written show, Wynonna Earp. The character of Waverly, portrayed by the lovely Dominique Provost-Chalkley, sort of made me realize something. It’s hard to explain, but the idea that you can be swept off your feet by someone you never even thought you would ever be with really spoke to me. I myself identify as female, and I thought about it. I could be with a man, sure. But I also thought that I would be okay with dating a woman as well. I couldn’t care less what they identified as, as long as I love the person. And not long after through the openness and support of my friends I was able to tell them, all of them, and no one ever saw me any different. In fact, me and another friend of mine (who is bisexual) helped someone else be open about who they were to our friend group, which was beautiful. And that night we decided on a funny way to tell my parents. I am so thankful that my family was so accepting, and simply didn’t care. My whole life my parents never referred to my future lover as a husband, they always said “whoever I marry” which helped a lot. So, the way that I decided to come out was through the use of a pumpkin. My friend painted a pan sexual flag on a little pumpkin, and I labeled it ‘Panpkin’. I put it on the mantle one fireplace, and my sister figured it out almost immediately, and when my mom finally got it, she spoke to me about it. Since then I’ve been living an amazing life with incredibly supportive friends and family, and because Waverly was such an important figure during my journey, I decided to name my beloved Portuguese Water Dog after her. She’s 5 months old and a racket, but I love her none the less.