Community Rainbow Waves

I’m a trans-masculine nonbinary lesbian.

I realized that I liked women when I was thirteen. I recognized it and came out as bisexual when I was fourteen years old. I came out for the first time on 3/29/20. I kept searching for labels that fit better after realizing that bisexuality didn’t fit me. I began experimenting with they/them pronouns and my attraction to men decreased very quickly. I chose a new name for myself and began using they/them pronouns. I began identifying as a lesbian, and came out as a lesbian in June 2020. In July, I came out as nonbinary. I started dressing masculine and I felt a lot more comfortable. I was not accepted by my family after coming out, and I struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety and possibly ADHD. Even though I was out of the closet, I still struggled with internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality. My family continues to deadname and misgender me, despite all my efforts to correct them and get them to use my correct name and pronouns. I began to self harm to cope with gender dysphoria and my family’s rejection of my identity. I still live with my family and I am not currently able to get away from them or move out. Seeing the state of the country that I live in, and how it treated people like me worsened my feeling of hopelessness. My story does not have a happy ending yet, but I want to live to make it better. I am human. I’ve got goals, and dreams, and hopes. I am not just my past, and I am not just my trauma. I want to become an actor. I want to have a family one day. I want to adopt kids when I get older. I can’t wait to make some of my dreams come true.

Leanne M.

So i was like, 15ish when i found out i was bisexual. I kinda knew something was different when i was a kid but i never really looked into it until i started an all girls secondary school basically run by nuns. Very exciting. I was around 13 when i seen this one girl who was like 3-4 years older than me. She was one of the most beautiful people i had ever seen and at the time i felt it was odd that i was feeling like that towards her. I introduced myself and we got talking and i basically became her little side kick aka i got completely friend zoned at the ripe age of 13 and i didn’t know it yet because i still believed that one day she’d magically feel the same way. I would then spend the next several years of school feeling like crap because i was told it was wrong to like the same sex because “the bible says it’s wrong and you’re basically in a nunnery so if we catch you doing that stuff we’ll shame you”. My teenage years were a bit rough to say the least with other family related problems going on so i never felt i had the time to actually find out whether i fully liked girls like the way i liked boys or if it was just a phase /girlcrush. That was until i met my ex girlfriend at 17. I had kissed other girls before that but this time was different considering i was of age (as was she) and stuff was bound to happen as we really liked eachother. I realized after my time with her that i do indeed like having a female companion just as much as I like being with a male one. I am in my 20’s now and have been with enough woman in the passed few years to realise i am comfortable with who i am. As much as i dont know fully who i am but then again who 100% knows themselves. Well probably Freddie mercury but he was Freddie mercury so. Anyway, yeah so lesson is don’t let anybody tell you it’s wrong for feeling the feelings you feel and as i always say you’ll never know you like it until you try it.

Simply me, Giulia

So, here I am. It took a while to write because english is not my mother language, i’m italian. My name is Giulia and I came out many years ago when was not so easy. I mean, is not easy at all, but in a small city of a Catholic country, believe me, it’s hard, most of all if your father is a public officer known in the city.
At that time I was living my dream with the only girl, till now, I really loved with all my heart and my senses. I was young, 24, thinking that I was living was really special; I never thought that something was wrong till the first and dramatic fight I had with my relatives.
That reaction scared me a lot because my thought was : if my father and my mother react in this way, what can I expect from strangers ? So I totally close in my self. I was still sure that what was going on was not wrong, but I was not able to talk with anyone and when the story ended I was totally alone. I could not show my pain because I did not know how to justify it.
I spend many years alone but during these years I started to open my self with friend. At the beginning was a total state of anxiety talking about being gay, but as soon as I talked with my dear friends, I noticed that for them it was normal, no problems at all. I was shocked about that!
Many years later I took again the argument with my relatives, they love me, they always have, but they were unprepared at that time, they were scared for me and was hard for them to manage it.
I told my father only one thing, when he apologized (btw he didn’t need to do it) : I was happy and you didn’t notice that.
Ya, that’s the point, being happy , being happy of what you are and who you love. I truly think that if we all together show our happiness, our consciousness, our strenght, that day in which you do not need to say Yep, I’m gay, is near. I’m a human being, a precious one, like all of us, I’m a lover and I don’t need to be identify in a scheme.
That’s me, Giulia, from Italy!

A transwoman, finally able to be herself

I first realized something about me was different when I was about 14. All the boys in my religious private school, which was gender segregated, started noticing girls. I noticed girls, and boys, but more importantly I wanted to be the girls. This was during a time when it was very much not acceptable to be trans. And in the religious community where I lived, even more so. I was told, “a person can either be queer, or they can be Jewish. They can’t be both.” And the Jewish community was my world, my life. It was everything I knew.

Over the next few years, I struggled with myself and my identity, up-and-down and up-and-down. I tried to pray the gay away. I tried being hyper masculine, to offset what I knew was the real person inside me. Nothing worked, nothing made the pain of living a lie go away. And I would spiral up-and-down and up-and-down. And then I couldn’t take it anymore.

I sat my spouse down, and I explained to her how I have been feeling and how I was not the person that she thought she married. I had my bags packed, and I fully expected her to throw me out. And to my utter surprise, and as I started sobbing common she didn’t. She hugged me and said “OK. Let’s deal with this together.”

Since then, I have come out, I’m living my truth, and I could never be happier. I’ve met family members who I never knew before, and found the family of my heart. And I could not possibly be happier. My wife accepts me for who I am, my children accept me for who I am. And that’s all that’s really important.

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.

Fluid/gay/lesbian

I’ve always had a strong physical connection with other human beings. Intimate energy draws me to people, especially in a romantic sense. Because of this, I grew up in many relationships with different boys. It wasn’t until after 10 months with my last boyfriend at 15 years old (I’m now 21) when I realised that something wasn’t quite right. I had never truly been intimate with any of my partners, and at this point I hadn’t yet done ‘the deed’ with him. The moment came and it didn’t feel special, I didn’t feel ‘in love’ is what I realised. So we didn’t do it, and I made the decision to end the relationship with him the week after. As cruel as it may seem, I was being more cruel to myself by keeping it going after the realisation.
5 months had passed and YouTube became my best friend. I discovered Ally Hills and Stevie Boebi, Shannon Beveridge and Cammie Scott, I watched them for months in pure denial that I was attracted to women. This was during Summer, when I wasn’t at school – most of my time was spent watching these YouTubers and doing ‘Am I gay?’ tests because I very extremely confused and simply didn’t want to admit the truth. I had a lot of internalised homophobia.
By the end of Summer, I had become so paranoid and depressed by internalising it, I had to tell someone. First, it was my best friend at the time. Then she told her mum, who was supportive of me. That same day I told my sister (who had been jokingly calling me a lesbian my whole life) and she gave me the courage to tell my mum. We weren’t a family who spoke about our emotions much, so me saying this to their faces was completely out of the picture. My sister told my mum for me, then my mum told my dad. It seems strange however, I’m not one to open up easily and for me, this was the best option. My mum smiled and welcomed me with open arms, I cried at the relief of her acceptance. I never spoke to my dad about it, but I knew he’d be okay with it.
It took a few months for my parents to stop mentioning boyfriends and realise it wasn’t a phase – I’m lucky that now I can openly talk to them about my relationships with girls and the future I have with my family, adopting or surrogacy in regards to my future children.
As I lived in a more conservative town, I came out to a heteronormative society. Because of this, it was hard to explain the decisions I made as a gay woman – explaining why I was a-romantic towards men however still very much gay. I was repeatedly told I was bisexual, which I knew wasn’t right and caused many arguments with my friends. After leaving my hometown to embark of university life, I was much more accepted and as I discovered more of my own confidence and identity, I realised that I am much more fluid in my choice of partners whilst still mainly preferring women. This was whilst also becoming more educated in gender and sexuality as I realised that I was also interested in non-binary people.
So, I am a fluid, gay woman. I am a proud fluid, gay woman. No one can tell me otherwise and I now don’t ever feel the need to explain myself. I know who I am, and that’s all that matters. If you know who you are, then nothing else matters. If you don’t know who you are, then that’s okay. You need to experience a journey before you get to your destination. Your destination may change, it may stay the same, but what matters is that your are happy and that you allow yourself to explore and enjoy the journey you face. – Scarlett (England, UK)

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.

The Invisible Girl

I think I am actually invisible sometimes.
I think most people think that every now and then.
I was little the first time I felt invisible sitting on a brick wall outside of my church, all the other kids had run to play but I was too tired to play. The adults didn’t even seem to notice I hadn’t made it to the playground.
The thing is I knew then I wasn’t invisible but I still thought it, I still think it.
I do not like putting myself out there.
I slouch when the teacher asks the class a question.
I panic when I don’t understand things.
I panicked when I finally came out to my best friend. I actually don’t even remember what I said to her and I am quite certain that she responded within a minute but that minute felt like forever. In that minute I thought of all the ways my best friend could say she didn’t support me and all the painful ways I would slowly disappear to the person that had stuck by my side since birth.
The truth is even if my friend had said she didn’t support me I would still be me, I would still be gay and I definitely would still be visible.
So here I am.
I haven’t disappeared
And no matter what people say I will never disappear because I have every right to be happy, to find love, to be me.

Talitha

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

I am not really good at writing about myself or my experiences,
I suppose first I should say I am a lesbian.
I have been out and proud for over 12 years probably longer if I really
think about it, I have not always embraced who I was, whether that be
because I am afraid or because I had no role model to really look up to
growing up which I am sure many people say.
In my school it was not okay to be different, being different got you a
one way ticket to hell, when I was in school and just coming into my
sexuality and figuring out who I was as a girl I saw my best friend
being beaten his hair set on fire all because he was gay and he was out
and proud and at the time I didn’t that to happen to me, I didn’t want
to be bullied or beaten simply because I chose to love women and so I
sat in my own little bubble protecting the most important part of
myself.
It took years for me to feel even just a bit confident to admit to my
best friend that I was a lesbian and even longer to tell my mum which
was more of me crying and refusing to actually say the words until she
guessed what it was I was trying to say. My mum was supportive which
doesn’t always happen and in that respect I was very, very lucky I could
have had it much worse.
My father was a different story even though he said he wasn’t bothered
by it, I could tell our relationship had changed and yes it is upsetting
but I moved on I wanted to get rid of any negativity in my life and only
bring about positive change.
Then the worst thing happened, something which set me so far back in my
journey to discover who I was as a woman. My nan went to hospital the
same year I came out, so I hid again from the world, from who I really
was and I pushed it so far down within myself, I had never told my nan
who I was because I was afraid she would hate me. My mum told me after
my nan had died (2012) that my nan knew I was gay and that my panic and
self hatred (I hated myself around this time and turned to ways that
were not so healthy to cope) were for nothing, that I was still her
granddaughter whom she loved with all her heart. Flash forward 8 years
and now I own my sexuality and I am not afraid of it, I have a beautiful
wife whom I love with all my heart and I am an ear for anyone who is
coming to terms with who they are my door is always open to those that
need it and that’s the kind of positivity I want to show the world that
being gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, queer or anything else doesn’t
matter to me as long as you are a good person.

Yes I am, Undo Me and Ghost

My name is Sheelagh. I was born and raised in the Philippines. I grew up Christian with a mixture of Catholicism. My family is well-known in the Filipino-Chinese community. Both sides of the family are well-to-do. My grandparents built a Evangelical church next door because of his faith. Among my family’s businesses, we distributed Christian music in the Philippines. My Christian upbringing was certainly a very important part of my life.

My story begins in Kindergarten. This was the first time I felt the feeling of “being different.” I had a crush on my teacher. The older I got, I would always notice the girls in my class. However, I did not understand any of this. I didn’t know if there was a word to describe who or what I am.

When I was 5th grade, I remember being in a car with my entire family. My older sister asked my parents the pivotal question that kept me in the closet for the longest time. She asked: “What is something your children would do that you would not be able to forgive us for?” After a long pregnant pause, my mom replied, “If I found out one of my four children is gay/homosexual.” I went to the dictionary and found out what the word homosexual meant. Okay, now I had a word to describe who I and what I am. If I come out, my parents will never forgive me for it. I remember thinking to myself, “that’s great. I will just keep this information to myself.”

In 7th grade, I walked into a music store and asked the salesperson if she had any recommendations for me. I wanted something new, alternative and different. She introduced me to Melissa Etheridge. Something in the lyrics of her songs spoke to my soul. I was able to come out to myself and say “Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yes, this is who I am.” For years, I went to sleep listening to all her albums at night.

When I was a Sophomore in high school, a friend came out to me. I stopped talking to her after that conversation. I stopped hanging out with her. She eventually left school and went to the US to finish high school. I still feel bad about this. I hurt her because I was not ready to face that part of myself.

My parents were very strict. We were not allowed sleep-overs. We were not allowed to go to parties until we were 18.

By college, I became active with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was at church almost every day of the week. I attended a prayer group on Tuesday. I joined a Bible study on Wednesday. I attended youth group on Friday and Saturday. And I was in church on Sunday.

In 2004, I watched the movie, “Saving Face” starring Joan Chen, Lynn Chen and Michelle Krusiec. For the first time, I saw myself on screen. It was my first exposure to positive lesbian representation on film. I wish I had the courage to say the words, “妈妈，我爱你. 我也是gay.” In English, mama, I love you. I am also gay.” But I didn’t. I was too scared to have that conversation with my family or with anybody. I came out by not coming home one night. I totally regret not having
that conversation but I just didn’t know what to say or where to begin.

Things began to not go well for me after what I did.

My family got me connected with an ex-gay ministry affiliated with Exodus International. I was not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I was driven to Bible study with this group every week. My family started a Bible study at my home. When my family realized that Bible study and family discussions were going nowhere, my mom gave me an ultimatum – change now or leave the house. I was also told that if I left, I would be cut off from the family and disowned.

I chose to leave with my girlfriend at the time. My family hired a private detective and tracked me down. My parents said they wanted to talk to me. When I came to see talk to them at a hotel room, I felt trapped. I felt I was being interrogated and coerced to go the US and think about my actions. This went on for hours until I broke down and said yes. Within less than a week, I was on a plane to Florida. My parents made arrangements that I was going to stay with family there.

After 6 months, my relatives realized that after numerous discussions, things were going nowhere. I was given another ultimatum – change now or go back home. In my mind, I pictured my family was either going to lock me up/throw away the key or I was going to be forced to marry a guy.

Neither scenario was acceptable to me. I thought about what I was going to do. I realized that for me to stay in the US, I needed to give my parents an acceptable proposition. I went online and found that Exodus International had a live-in ministry/program in Wichita, KS. I figured since they want me to consider changing who I am, I think they should pay for my expenses.

I found myself in Wichita. I got accepted into the ministry. I regret my participation (about 5 years) with this organization. The people running the ministry may have good intentions. Perhaps they were concerned about the well-being of my soul. However, there was no social worker on staff or anyone with religious training in their background. I was not allowed to interact with anyone outside the ministry and the church. I was not allowed to listen to music that was not pre-approved. I was not allowed to watch any television that was not pre-approved. For about half a decade, I was asked to not question their authority and just receive their message.

It totally went against everything that I believed in. I always questioned things. This really threw me off for a loop. I feel like I am still suffering from the mind games of being in this program. I went from being comfortable in my own skin to having a complex about who I am.

My only saving grace during this time was Jennifer Knapp’s music. I discovered her music while I was in the program. Her lyrics are so honest and moved me to remain open to God. The song “Undo Me” is my favorite from her album.

Undo Me became my prayer for many years. I went from being comfortable in own skin and not having any issues with my sexuality to praying that God take this away from me. I know the only way to please my family is for God to change me. There is no way I can do it on my own.

Luckily, because my family distributed Christian music in the Philippines, I was able to get all her albums sent to me. Her music gave me life while in that program. Without it, I do not know if I would have survived those years.

When I finally left the program, I was angry at God. I became promiscuous. I stopped caring about my faith. I went on downward spiral for a few years. I put myself in situations that were not healthy or positive. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to me.

Two years prior to meeting my wife, I realized this was not the life I wanted for myself. I stopped going to bars. I stopped having casual sex. I made a promise to myself. I will only consider sharing an intimate moment with somebody who I can see myself being in a serious relationship with.
Luckily, a wonderful and beautiful woman came into my life. She is now my wifey. We have two pugs, a son and a great life together. I have never been happier.

When Adaline decided to help others who have suffered religious trauma, I was excited. I am on this very journey. I need help in this area. Who knew that Ghost would mean so much more than the magic of WayHaught/and the stairs?

However, religious trauma is painful. I have not opened the Bible since leaving the ex-gay ministry. However, amazing human beings out there like Adaline and Jennifer Knapp are giving me hope. Who knew that Wynonna Earp and the community of Earpers will grow into something beyond the show and the fandom?

I am completely estranged from my family. They think the only way I can be acceptable and welcomed into the family is if I marry a guy or stay single/embrace celibacy for the rest of my life. It hurts when we talk because they always ask me how I am doing as if I am unmarried. When I share information about my life they act like I didn’t say anything.

Being part of this community has been a great source of hope and healing for me. I feel so blessed and honored to have read all your stories. Thank you for sharing because you make me feel like I am not alone. Thank you, Dominique for starting the wave. I am so grateful.