Community Rainbow Waves

90% Gay

I have known all my life I was attracted to girls. My first memory was telling my mom when I was 4, that I liked my sister’s girl friends. My mother has been aware of my sexuality since I was born. She claims that all my relatives told her that judging by the shape of the belly, I was for sure a boy… well, they weren’t wrong nor right.

In my younger years it was weird. I used to dress like a boy, play sports and so on, so girls wouldn’t be my friends and boys weren’t comfortable with me, because I’m a girl.

When I was a teenager, I changed schools and I was determined to fit and have friends. So I began to embrace my feminine side.

It wasn’t until University that I realized I could be a women attracted to an other women because I met a bunch of gay people.

However, the process was tortuous because I couldn’t face that reality. And I had fought so hard to be “normal”. So it took me a couple of boyfriends to call it quits and stop hiding from me and my feelings.

However, no one except my sister and my mom knew I was gay.

One sunny day I met this girl and I fell madly in love with her. The feelings were so strong, I just couldn’t hide it. One little detail. She was straight. But I will always thank her because, to be able to process all I was feeling for her, I came out to almost everyone in my life.

A year later I met my wife and we’ve been together for 8 years.

However, even though I’m a grown ass woman, I haven’t been able to come out to my father’s very religious family.

My parents are very supportive but they are afraid my relatives could make a bad comment so they keep discouraging me to come out to them. I feel a heavy weight on my stomach because of this. I’m looking forward to just be able to be, without fear of my relatives and hurting my parents.

Being 90% gay means that you’ll keep coming out over and over again. In every doctor’s appointment “are you married? What’s your husband’s name?”, meeting a new colleague, and so on.

That slight fear that digs a hole in my chest each and every single time someone asks about my partner, never seems to go away. But that is just 10% of the time. The other 90% I’m just happy I get to love who I want and most of the people, don’t really care what I do on my free time.

One should be free to live as they’re able, and not according to another one’s label – content warning: this coming out story contains self-harming behaviour

I always knew there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was called, and certainly didn’t know the emotional battles I would have with myself as I was growing up.

Coming from a relatively small country town was even more confusing for me.

What is wrong with me?
Is there something wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
Are there other girls like me? Where are they?
How will I know?
What will people think?
What will my family think?
Will my friends hate me?

The questions just kept coming, but I didn’t have any answers. Each and every day I was struggling with my inner demons.

I remember my first real girl crush like it was yesterday. There was a girl in my class at primary school that just got me. I know she is still out there, and I know she is out. One day our paths may cross again.

I moved away from my home town when I was 19 and headed for the big smoke. By this time I was in so much emotional pain. I developed a very close relationship with alcohol, but the pain didn’t go away. It was always there the next day.

I became close to one of my friend’s mum. I could talk to her about anything. She obviously saw something in me that I didn’t know was ‘visible’.

When she asked if I wanted to go out one night with her and some friends, of course I said yes. What she didn’t tell me was that it was a women’s only club. When we walked in, although petrified, I finally felt like I was not alone. The place was packed, so I definitely wasn’t alone . Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.

I guess this was the first time I came out, and I didn’t have to say a word. And I guess that’s when her and her partner came out to me.

When it came time to start coming out to family and friends, I was shit scared, and rightly so. I was cast out, given death glares, humiliated, bullied, publicly shamed, and the list goes on.

I was made to feel disgusted that I was a human being.

Even though I was living the party life, I was now very much alone. Let’s be honest, I was trying to fill a void.

At my lowest point, I just wanted to die.

Slowly, I started to meet people who just saw me, without judgement. I was finally starting to realise that life could be beautiful.

Times were changing.

Or was it just me seeing things more clearly?

Things were very different back in the 90’s.

Along came the internet, mobile phones, and a multitude of Social Media platforms.

May the support, awareness and love continue to grow for the LGBTQ+ community.

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

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

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

I don’t identify, I’m just me.

I knew I was part of the community when I was young and I just never really knew what “gay” felt like so then I got older(16 now) I finally got the courage to tell my parents, but first I told my friend by passing a note, then she said she was bi too and then I came out to my mom but couldn’t tell my dad because I feel like he had a whole other perspective on it, but my mom secretly told my dad and he is cool with it. I told my sister and she is very supAI’ve always known I was part of the community, I’ve always thought other girls were pretty and that eventually I’d fall for one and that’d be it. What was shocking to me was that it wasn’t common to feel this way. At a very young age I’d thought, “But girls are so pretty! How can you not like girls?” I never felt a need to come out, I came home one day and said “Mom, I have a girlfriend!” I could tell she was surprised but she was calm and hugged me and told me how proud of me she was. Our community can be such an accepting place, that’s one of my favourite things about it. I’m still very young, I don’t exactly have very many years on me, but I’ve always known who I am and what I want.portive of it and we have a closer bond together and we always joke around and pick out my “future girlfriend.” My whole family is supportive of me, including my grandma, and doesn’t think any different of me and I can’t wait for what the future holds for me!

OneMoreDropInThisGorgousSea

Firstly pardon my english, I’m actually brasilian.
We all want answers. When we are kids almost EVERYTHING amazes us, and when we grow up, our questions gets more and more complex and complicated…

But Well… I KNOW Love is not one of them. I felt it before.

When It gets complicated, then it’s not love, cause Love transforms a messy knot into a beautifull colorfull line (like a rainbow haha)

Love is understandingfull. Love is kind. And love is not just a feeling itself… It is a way to see the world, and the lackness of it, in some moments, disconect us from the BEST within us.
If you don’t believe me just remember that everything we make with loving, end up beautifull, colorfull, organized (just look at the sky at night), sweet… like a gentle breeze sliding through every strand of hair…

Love is not only about ourselves, but about others too, cause we can donate from us this beautiful energy. By admiring someone, by giving importance to that person,
by touching and being touched by everything that ever happened to that person.
But also love is NOT the absence of pain! Love is a way of living that allow us to be STRONG when pain comes, and not being complainfull about it…
there is actually a spoiled side of us to think that EVERYTHING is ALWAYS destined to end up well… (and by “well” I meant the way we WANT it to end up) Cause It won’t. Which is good, cause pain help us grow. If pain make you feel more scared, then you’re not loving.
I KNOW everything has a purpose. Nature shows us EVERYTHING has a purpose. Sometimes we just don’t know what for.
I do care about LGBT comunity, cause it is important to talk about LOVE diversity. There is many many ways to get to this sea.

As I discovered those paths I realized few important things… You don’t NEED to change everything you are because you realized something new about yourself, but if you WANT TO, then so be it: Change!
But Change for better! Use comprehension, not hate. Otherwise isn’t it hipocrisy to fight hate and exclusion with hating and exclusion?
Does EVERYTHING has to evolve through pain? Does peace has to arrive through battle wounds? Can’t we just KNOW it by heart?
It doesn’t mean we should trust everyone, It is DUMB. It means we should always hope for the better of someone, as much as we hope for ourselves.
But remember… you are still you! With new improves haha. Don’t you EVER forget who you are. What you truly believe. What you really want. And most importantly don’t you ever forget about love. And if there is no love, then you shouldn’t content yourself with less!

And I guess that’s my flag. I don’t know, but ONE DAY, I’ll be strong enough to make people around me feel like this: powerfull, bold, strong, important, seen and happy.
I am nobody. But a nobody with a lot in my mind, I guess…

Aaaaand that’s how I came out.

In a Cocoon

I’m torn about telling my story. i hardly know what my story is because I’m still trying to find my truth but i know that there’s power within a community. In finding people who are like you, who understand you, and who accept you. I also know that by telling our stories, we affect change in greater ways than any of us can imagine.
So I want to be a part of that change and I want to give my voice in this growing wave of transformation.
I hope it’s heard.

The first time I thought I was gay, I couldn’t stop smiling.
I just walked around the house all day with an ear-splitting grin plastered to my face and thinking over and over again that “I like girls.”
I wanted to shout it out from the rooftops and tell everyone I knew and loved that I’d finally found a part of myself that was hidden for so long. I wanted to let them know that I’d regained a love for myself and rediscovered a love for others that I never knew existed. And that I felt complete.
I couldn’t contain it any longer than a couple days so i told my twin sister, and she rejoiced with me. We confided in each other about our own individual experiences with our sexualities and for so long she was the only one who knew. She was the only one who I’d trade jokes and secret knowing glances with when my aunts and uncles asked about a boyfriend. She was my rock when I’d have crushes and couldn’t help but gush about them; she was my safe space.
She was there for the joy in the beginning and she’s here for the heartbreak in the now. Even though we’re separated and hundreds of miles apart, she’s still here.

It’s been 43 days since I’ve come out and 42 since I’ve been kicked out of the house. When my mom found out, she said that she didn’t want a homosexual daughter and that love is sanctified between a man and a woman. To feel anything different is unnatural, unholy, and wicked.
The sad thing is, I used to believe that for the longest time about myself too, but it wasn’t until all of this that now i can confidently say that the way i love is beautiful. I’ve never felt anything more natural than loving women and i love it.
So through all of my couch-surfing, car-living, night-crying days, I can’t help but feel the weight lifted from my shoulders. I feel like i can finally breathe after all this time, and I’ve never felt more….liberated. By being able to live authentically, I’ve learned to not only love people in greater ways, but myself as well.
So I still don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight, or if i’ll be able to go home anytime soon, but one thing I know for certain is that I’m finally able to start living my truth.

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.

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

I am a 25 year old Gay Woman – content warning: this coming out story contains discussion of an abusive relationship

As a teenager I always thought that something was amiss as I used to enjoy the company more of women than I did men. I could have a laugh more with guys but with women I connected more with them and was always so shy whenever someone would speak to me. I pushed my feelings down as I thought I was pretty young and just concentrated on my schoolwork. It wasn’t until I started football (I live in England) when I was 14 and was immediately drawn to one of the girls on my team. We used to speak constantly outside of football and always be at each other’s houses. The feelings grew more and more and when I couldn’t see them, I used to wonder why I would get so upset about it. It wasn’t until a few months after playing football that I realised I liked her more than a friend and lucky for me she felt the exact same. But because we were so young, we wanted to keep it to ourselves, from our families and our friends. At first, I was completely ok with that as I was coming to terms with it myself and was getting used to being with a woman for the first time. After 2 years of being a couple in secret I felt I was ready to tell my family and friends as everyone always used to ask me if things were what they seemed, but I used to deny them. But she still didn’t want anyone to know and I was in a different place to her as to how I felt, and this caused a massive problem for us both to the point she no longer wanted to be with me. This break my heart, but it also made me stronger as I had the courage to tell a select few of my closest friends what had been happening. I cried to the point the literally just kept hugging me saying everything was going to be fine and that they accepted me for who I was. It wasn’t until a year or 2 after this that I came out to my parents, in the meantime I was dating and got used to this new normal for me. I had a bad relationship after who was controlling and turned me into a person that wasn’t me. This was when me coming out to my parents happened. I was friends with two people who had recently split up with each other, one of them was with me and other came round to give them something of theirs (I was the one to open the door) as I came back in my dad was sat next to my friend and he asked me if that was my girlfriend (trying to have a joke) I replied with no. He then asked me if I was actually gay after asking me a million times previously and me denying each one, and without any hesitation or thought process I literally said yes. He thought I was joking at first and I said that no I actually am. My sisters came running downstairs at this point with pure excitement because I had finally admitted that I was gay. Everyone was so supportive and the only things my parents said to me was they were disappointed I never told them before. It was such a huge relief to have such a positive reaction. All of my family followed with me coming out to them and one by one they all said they already knew I was but was waiting for me to say something. After this I was relieved, I could finally be myself and express myself in a way I have always wanted. I was able to talk about things more and not have to hide any part of me from the world. It hasn’t always been plain sailing as my previous partner who I was with for three years, I was blind to see was abusive in many forms. Mentally and towards the end was physical. Still till this day has had lasting effects of me having to go through countless therapies to get myself on track and recover from having anxiety and depression ever since. I am finally on the mend and I am now with my amazing partner who everyday helps me heal and encourages me to go for my goals that I set out for myself. She continues show and give me the love I have always wanted. Its been 11 years since I first knew I was gay and I’ve never been happier.