Community Rainbow Waves

Gay

I knew I was attracted to girls as soon as I knew what attraction felt like, but every time the thought presented itself I promptly decided that it was a problem for future me to deal with.
Initially this was because me as an 11 year old didn’t care too much about much to have a serious think about things, but as time progressed and I learnt words like ‘lesbian’, and ‘bisexual’ on the playground and (slowly) through media the more I realised that what I was feeling was associated with those words.
Once it had a name, it was a thing and it had to be dealt with.
However the name my feeling had was given to it by my peers, who in our first year of high school (middle school for Americans I guess) would still lace those words with mistrust and hate.
Over my dead body would I be associated with something like that when I was just leaving my 11 year old book-nerd-with-a bad-haircut-self behind. So, I shoved those feelings right down and hoped they’d go away, and honestly boys aren’t THAT bad maybe I can have a nice life with a man or maybe I’ll just get one of those jobs where you’re too busy to get married?
Like our beautiful founder I was hoping it would all go away. This remains my coping method in most things to this day.
Anyway then came the years where i talked to the boys my friends said I should on Snapchat and then avoided them at ALL COSTS in school, and I started to really admire women that I’d see on tv or even my friends…. completely obliviously.
I was on the field hockey team for Christ’s sake.
In high school I was quite popular, in that I hung out with the cool kids and people knew my name. I had friends in other high schools so I went to lots of parties and my big sister could buy me alcohol so I had street cred. The field hockey team was where all the cool girls gathered and we’d always joke about how none of us were lesbians despite the trope (lol).
This was a precarious situation. I was a people-pleaser and probably always will be. I would say anything to be liked and stay in a comfortable second row of that pyramid ( I was still living under the shadow of that haircut).
I told myself that I didn’t care anyway so it didn’t hurt to keep it secret.
I also had a best friend whom I was madly in love with. Standard.
When that friendship ended it was as a result of my feelings and my unfair expectations of her and it meant I had to confront them finally.
I was scared because the the people that I loved and counted on were casually homophobic about gay people that we knew. They would say it was their hair or humour they didn’t like but in reality it was that they were different. We were young and stupid and mean and I was terrified of being rejected by them. I was terrified of not being invited to sleepovers, or girls not changing next to me before PE.
All these years I’d been rejecting my own feeling I’d turned them into something ugly in my head. I like dressing in a typically ‘femme’ way. But like not all the time that’s so much effort??? But if I looked in the mirror and felt my hair wasn’t long enough or I didn’t have enough makeup on or felt like I’d gained weight, I thought everyone would know I was gay. As adolescents we’d moved on past ‘gay’ being an insult. Now you had to be afraid of ‘butch’ and ‘dyke’.
I decided that the only possible way to come out and not be rejected was to be as conventionally attractive as possible, died my hair blonde, wore more makeup, shorter dresses, higher heels. All of these were fun in moderation. I lost a lot of weight very quickly and not very safely.
I do whatever it took to fit in because I thought it would make people question me less if I came out. I started to drink a lot and one night in with my three closest friends, I got blackout drunk and when I woke up I’d come out to them.
One way to do it.
Anyway they were so brilliant and it turned out that I just needed to spit it out.
Not just that obviously, I needed to become comfortable with my own body, my sexuality, my emotions and bloody hell I needed some healthy coping mechanisms.
At the ripe old age of 18 I’m not as comfortable as I’d like to be but it’s a journey and I’m on my way.
I started looking for positive representation and that’s when I found Wynonna Earp and wayhaught and Dominique Provost Chalkley who is just too beautifully brave . I also found this beautiful community she created and within it I could not be prouder to be a lesbian woman who is beautiful however I dress, and who is always trying to be kinder and spread more love because of this amazing woman who was brave enough to share her story.
Tonight I’m coming out to my parents and I’m gonna tell them about this gorgeous girl I’ve been seeing, big hugs to everyone telling their stories xx

Why me?

I’m 25 from Norway and I’ve been out for awhile now. I first realized there was something different with me when I was 10 years old. Back then I of course didn’t think there was anything wrong with what I was feeling, cause honestly how can a child who’s really open-minded not realize this isn’t “normal”? I noticed I was attracted to girls the way I should’ve been attracted to boys. When I got older ( I believe i was 12/13) i started to see that maybe this wasn’t as normal as I thought at first. That’s when the fear hit me. That’s when I saw that who I was and who I wanted to be was not accepted in the society. So I did what I had to do, hide my sexuality. For a long time I thought I was bisexual, I mean how could I not be? At least I could be into boys, right? I could have a part of be that was “ normal” and I didn’t have to tell anyone about my attraction towards girls. Time went on and I kept dating boys and I kept getting more depressed. I was 15 and I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. We became best friends quickly and my feelings only got stronger. It got harder to hide what I was feeling. Everything was so much harder. That’s when I knew I HAD to come out to someone. So I took a few of my friends aside and told them that I was bisexual ( obviously I was lying) and they took it fine. But it didn’t stop there that wasn’t the real me, I wasn’t out as a gay. I kept dating boys, I was still so scared and I still tried to deny it. I knew I had to come out to my parents at some point. By the time I was 17 I have had crush on many girls without anyone knowing. I started to accept myself slowly and I was meeting my fear, I started to realize maybe I wasn’t as weird as I thought. Or maybe people didn’t judge me as I thought. I got my first girlfriend when I was 18 without anyone knowing. That’s when I decided to meet my fear and tell my parents. I wanted to be me and I couldn’t hide it any longer, my friends had known for awhile. I first told my brothers and then my mom, then my dad. Everyone took it amazing except from my dad. I’m not gonna go into details cause it’s complicate but he learned to accept me eventually. I told the rest of my family when I was 21, I felt so free and so happy. I’ve never felt better. I’m never going back and I’m never going to lie about my sexuality again and I’m not gonna go back to being scared and afraid of who I am. I’m so freaking proud of who I am and I’m loving my life now. I don’t miss being in the closet at all. Now I stand with LGBTQ+ and I fight for our rights. Everyone should be able to love who they want no matter sexuality they have. Love is freaking beautiful

Artist Lesbian

I knew I was lesbian at a ripe age of 4.
But I was in a school full of homophobic kids so the only way to fit in was to “act straight”. Did that for eleven years but through those tough times, I got sexually abused by males my age (groped, used as a sex iconand even blackmailed). It has left me scarred – mentally, physically and socially.

I have always been an anxious person but I needed to break out of this shell.
Imagine I am a cattipillar (or however you spell it) stuck in a cocoon: it wants to open up and reveal its true beauty but it can’t because of the walls in its way.

I did identify as pansexual, but that was when I was in a relationship with a boy. I feared my parents would tell him that I was lesbian so I had to come up with something to hide away that thought.

It was until I went to Snowdonia, Wales (a VERY odd place to debate on your sexuality), I started having spontaneous crushes on women. I couldn’t help but think about them non-stop.
Even the word “women” made my heart flutter.

Edging to June 2019, I was slowly getting confident. My boyfriend split up with me as he thought I seemed “different”. But the thing was, he was right.
I was different.
How could a 16 year old autistic female fall in love with another women despite being in a relationship with a male?

It came to my last full day at my secondary school and I came out.
The cocoon disappeared.
My wings had grown.
I felt blissful. I felt complete.

It was my last words at that school too, and I always look back at that and think as to how far I have become.

Back to when I used to “act straight”, all fell for it.
Does that mean I deserve an Oscar? I betta.

These following people helped me come out with all my might:
Daisy Ridley
Kat Barrell
Dominique Provost-Chalkley
Cara Delevingne
Ruby Rose
My family
Some fictional characters like Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp, Rey, Viola Eade, Thirteenth Doctor, Jyn Erso
You

So when someone says: “how have you come so far?”
I will tell them this story.

Just you wait for me to appear on the big screen, portraying a character who has gone through the same things as me.
I will credit all of you when I walk on the red carpet.

There’s a million things I haven’t done.
But just you wait…

Just you wait.

– H.L Good, a proud lesbian

#OutIsTheNewIn

Bisexual

To be honest, I think that in my entire life I’ve been attracted to boys and girls but I didn’t knew that was a thing, I even thought that was normal. While growing up I was forcing myself to only like boys because “that’s what normal girls do” but for me it didn’t feel right. In 2018 I started to like a girl in my class, I didn’t want to but I couldn’t help it, then I confessed myself to her and she didn’t feel the same but she was supporting me. Then I came out in social media and that’s how my mom found out that I was bisexual. She was mad at me, she thought that I was confused but in reality I’m not because I really like girls and boys and that’s who I am. Now in 2020 my mom still thinks I’m confused but my friends accept me as a bisexual girl. And that’s my story. I am OUT.

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 just a girl trying to figure out this thing called life

To be honest the whole idea of “coming out” is both sad that it is a thing, and also frightening because it puts a type of spotlight onto you and makes you feel singled out. I am just turning 20, and really discovering who I am and who I want to be. I do consider myself religious and because of that I am afraid to say let alone write that there is a part of me that would not be considered “normal”. Through the few years I have been on this earth, I have found that I am attracted to both genders and because of preconceived ideas and norms I never really realized it. For years I had been drawn to shows with families that had two moms and I thought I just liked it because it was different. But from watching Wynonna Earp, and especially the cons on YouTube I realized it might be more than that. I have heard from several people that after you come out you will feel free in the end and those that don’t love you after never really loved you. But as someone who depends on my family and close friends that is extremely hard. I hope that I might one day have the courage to speak my truth.

Power in knowledge

I’m 17, and I don’t know myself. Or at least I don’t think I want to know myself. As a child, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to because I didn’t have any siblings (other than a dog). I turned to the media, video games, and fictional characters from TV shows and movies to feel a connection to someone or something. Man, I would sit in front of the TV as a kid and watch these shows where I saw these beautiful people and I would always imagine myself pretending that I was their friend. And as I got older, the same thing happened where I continued enjoying characters. But then around my older teenage years, I realized that maybe it wasn’t an “obsession” with the characters, it was that I really liked them. And I was confused because no one had ever really mentioned this feeling to me, but in my mind, it just made sense. And I’m a relatively athletic person, so I got the whole “tomboy” thing as a kid, so people probably chalked it up to that. But I didn’t. Because, as of recently, I figured out who I was. And while only select people know, it’s cool to like the best of both worlds. Like God must have invented males and females for everyone’s enjoyment, so why not enjoy them both? And I’m lucky to be able to say my parents would be accepting of me, but in a way, I feel like they know, so I have avoided making it a “thing,” because why should they focus on a part of me that’s just who I am? There is no reason. And thanks to many TV shows, like Wynonna Earp and their amazing characters and cast, and movies, and just people in general, they have helped me with who I am.

I don’t put labels on myself.

Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.

Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.

This is me

I love being happy

I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy

#OutIsTheNewIn

I am queer

I have always felt “out of place.” Dressing like a “tomboy” from the age I was finally able to dress myself everyday. I wanted to hang out with the boys on the playground and play video games with my uncles. Then much later on, in the 7th grade, I started coming across the LGBTQ+ community. It was in brief passing, but slowly and surely I started doing research into the vast world of gender and sexual orientations. I tried to tell my family this over that summer…it didn’t go well. The first person I told was my cousin. He was my best friend at the time. However, he ended up telling his parents who would then tell mine. My parents tried to accept me, but ultimately they just didn’t understand. They didn’t understand how this “change” could just come out of nowhere. Why I wanted to cut my hair and start dressing differently. Most importantly, they were worried that once I came out how it would reflect on them. They were scared. So I hid my identity. I was only true to my close group of friends, who would later on abandon me as well. This lack of support caused me to fall into a deep depression and struggle with mental health for over 4 years now. But, in the midst of all the darkness, I found people who accepted me. I found my best friend. I found my first girlfriend. We dated for several months, however my mom eventually forced me to stop seeing her. Now I live relatively closeted. Waiting for a place I know is safe, free from judgment. But I know who I am. I am queer. I am 16. I am a female. I am a survivor. And I will remain true to myself no matter what because the bravest thing you can do is be yourself <3

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