Community Rainbow Waves

Life’s a lot of fun if you look on the bright side.

Hi, my name is Amélie but my friends call me Waméliz (don’t try to understand).
I’m 18 years old.
And sorry if my English is disastrous because I’m French.
Anyway, since primary school my thing has always been to hang out with boys, to play at fights, to dress up as a pirate for fancy dress birthday parties, to hate dresses, tights, ballerinas etc…
For a long time I was regularly at my grandparents’ house.
And like all self-respecting old people, I had the right to a classical education: a girl doesn’t dress like a boy, two girls kissing “my gods what a horror” and the racist thought…
As a child I didn’t understand all that.
I just wanted to put on jeans and a T-shirt and go have fun with my friends.

As time went by, I started to feminize myself more and more, imitating other girls my age, having boyfriends and hanging out with girls only.

It wasn’t until I was in 9th grade that I realized that I liked girls.
There was a new girl in our class, at the time I didn’t pay too much attention to her.
But one day she had a lot of trouble carrying her bag because as she was handicapped sometimes her knee joints got blocked.

So I helped her carry her bag home, and I continued to help her like this every night after school.
She was very much on my mind and I loved spending time with her.
In college, being gay wasn’t very well accepted, even though harassment had gotten under my skin, so when I imagined coming out, I didn’t want to take any chances.
So I decided to keep my thoughts to myself (something that should never be done, it seems).
But I did tell my loved ones about it.
Starting with my mother, I told her about this girl with whom I shared the road every night.
To tell her in the final sentence “I think I am in love with her”.
And my mother replied, “I thought so, my daughter”.
Yes, well, there are better things, but at least it went well.
Then it was my father’s turn, as there is not much communication with him, I wanted to tell him quickly.
That is to say, just before he went to sleep, “Good night daddy, and I also wanted to tell you that I am in love with a girl”.

Might as well tell you that he didn’t have a very good night, the next day he told me that I didn’t have sex with a boy I couldn’t know who I really loved, I asked him if he had slept with boys to find out if he really loved my mother but he took it the wrong way and ended the conversation.

Months went by and I decided to tell the girl how I felt.
To make a long story short, she told me she didn’t feel the same way and stopped seeing each other (no my life is not a TV show), so what can I say except unicorn poop?
When I arrived in high school, that’s when I could fully assume who I am, a PANSEXUAL girl who wants to be friends with everyone and who loves people big, small, white, black, yellow, green, multicolored etc…
My last two coming-out dates were this year.
One to my friends who took it very well except for one who asked me if I ever fell in love with an animal and I said “yes of course be careful with your dog the next time I come to your place”.

And the last one to my grandmother, she must have had at least three heart attacks but she finally accepted it.

I’m proud to be part of the LGBTQ2SZETRWU community… there you go.

35yo, gay and still on the journey

I live in Poland – country where we have „LGBT free zones” in over 100 regions/cities/counties (almost 60 of them enacted „resolutions against LGBT ideology”), where president said „LGBT are not people, it is an ideolgy”, where important people from catholic church said (after Pride Parade) that people have to clean up the streets after rainbow plague, where some politician said that LGBT are not like normal people, where children’s ombudsman said that sex educators give children at schools “gender-changing” pills.
So it is not verry happy place to live.
If I was a teenager nowadays I would know I’m gay somewhere between 12 and 14. But I was a teenager in late ’90s and I didn’t know that being gay even exists. It was 2009 when I saw gay women on TV (or in the Internet to be specific) for the first time in Grey’s Anatomy. At that time I was 23 and in collage. Shortly after that I found The L Word and was like “oooh, this is a real thing”. I was in a long distance relationship with a man and was going to move with him to the big city. I was dreaming Jenny’s story was mine – I’ll move and I’ll meet a girl of my life. Reality was I moved and didn’t met any girl. I had a hard time accepting my sexuality. I still was in a relationship. I had severe depression. I went through different stages – “I have to stay with this guy because it is not normal to be with a woman”,“I can’t be with him but I will be alone for the rest of my life”, “I don’t want to be with him, but I don’t want to be alone eighter”. And finally my minds reached the point where I was thinking “you can’t be with him because it is unfair to him and to you, I don’t know what is waitng for you around the corner but you will be okay”.
We broke up and I moved back to my hometown.
It was 2012, I was 26 and feeling completely lost in life. I moved back with my family and started a new job.
Same year I came out to my best friend. Or I was forced to come out to her. She had some doubts, she tought she is “not safe” with me and I had to answer like a billion questions. But she came around very quickly. A month later I decided to come out to my other best friend and she was wonderful.
Today I’m 35. Unfortunately I still live with my family. And my family is conservative, catholic, huge supporter of polish government and homophobic. My mother uses the F word referring to gay guys (she doesn’t know any bad words for lesbians).
For years I was school psychologist and now I’m a vice principal in public high school. Our school is great. We have a lot of LGBTQ+ students. There are more and more every year because the word that we have very supportive environment is spreading. We always react if they are bullied (but those situation are very very rare). LGBTQ+ students are safe in our school, they can be out, they can hold hands in the hallways, they can go to the prom with their partners, they are stars in school theater and choir, we had outed gay student as the student body president. Unfortunately all those situations are not very common in polish public education system.
I always wanted to be the kind of teacher I was looking for as a teenager – kind, supportive, not being right all the time, respectful, ready to listen and not judge. For obvious reasons a have a soft spot for LGBTQ+ students. Since I’m not out and can’t lead by example I consider my support for them as my contribution to LGBTQ+ community.
I know I still am on a journey. I’m out to my little world but I’m not ready to come out to the big world out there. I don’t think I would ever be. I’m afraid of losing my job (because of the system not the people in my workplace) and roof over my head.
I don’t get support from my family but I’m lucky because there are some amazing people around me. They are my chosen family. I feel safe around them and celebrated by them and they love me. The real me. And I love them back 🙂

P.S. Dear beautiful people please remember if your family doesn’t choose to support you, you can choose your own family.
P.S.2 I was writing my rainbow wave for a few days now reading it over and over again. It is the first time I’ve seen how far I got and honestly I feel weirdly hopeful (it is not the feeling that I’m used to).

Lesbian

i realized that i was gay when i first watched pitch perfect. brittany snow and anna kendrick just hit different. only when i found wayhaught though was i able to gain the courage to come out to my parents. i only came out to them this year, but i’ve known i was gay for about 6 years now; since i was 12. i’m forever grateful to dom and kat for portraying these roles and for coming out themselves. they have given me the greatest gift; they gave me courage and they gave me hope, and those two things inspire me to keep pushing forward and to keep fighting for what i love.

Label-less she/her, living down under

Hello !!!!! I’m not one for labels , but what is fitting is transgender bisexual. I had my bisexual realization early on, I was in kindergarden and kissed a girl on the I think looking back at it now at age, you somewhat know that you might have an inkling that something was different, for me I grew up in a family being one of 5 kids and the youngest all i knew was same sex relationships.

The first person I kissed was a guy I was 15, I thought hmm maybe the fact it was a horrible first kiss that this was the reason i wasn’t feeling it (it was a horrible kiss) but that didn’t stop me I tried and tried so many times throughout my high school years even with a boyfriend which didn’t last long (poor guy properly thought he turned me) It seemed the more I tried the more it became just a routine kiss a guy no strings attached. Never feeling that internal I can’t live without this person in my life.

Jumped to the age of 19, To the first girl I kissed. I had a friend shall we call her (trial and error) I had known her since I was 12 & We all found out that she was with another girl, yes the 1st person i actually knew that was gay. I found myself being intrigued and I can’t remember to this day 100% but I think I ended up messaging her on chat (When all the chat rooms were all the rage) and asking her questions.. the questions lead to us talking a lot and hanging out a fair bit. Then we decided to go for a drive one night, we drove for hours till she pulled up to a street that had a area just to the side of the road we got out did the normal thing joked around each other, then her face turned serious her eyes looked onto mine & she just kissed me.

i still remember that feeling, that feeling that i had been wanting for all those years. That warmth and butterfly that just hit you all at once, like instantly. All the dots started to connect & things like my obsession to watch Joan of arc just for Leelee Sobieski & wanting to always hang with certain girl “friends” all start to made sense.

The issue in all this though was the girl that i had kissed also had a big mouth.. everyone I knew had found out not by me but by her. At first i was worried that it would change how my best friends would perceive me, how they would treat me. I was petrified that it would some how change the way they interacted with me.

The only person I actually ever told directly was my mum, she didn’t talk to me for days which seemed like years when you drop a bombshell that they never see coming. Don’t get me wrong my mum is the biggest supporter of my life choices now but it did take a while for her to understand and accept.

After many years of heartbreak from falling for the wrong people and some in your 20’s crazy choices, some good some bad I find myself in a relationship now for the past 6 years with a women. Im out to everyone in my personal life but not but still in my work life, maybe one day I will brave enough within myself to be able to live my true self in whatever form that may be across all aspects of my life. One thing I do know is, never feel guilty for making your happiness come first, never be sorry for being exactly who you were born to be. Im a 36 year old in finance from Sydney, Aus & Love has no labels and either do i.playground. My transgender one, however , came later in my life, around the time of middle school. I wasn’t feeling comfortable in my body, around my friends and family, or even whenever no one was around. I wasn’t happy anymore. I looked in the mirror, closed my eyes, and asked myself what would make me happy. I saw myself as a boy. And that surprised me. I talked to a friend, and they told me about the term transgender. That is when I figured out who I was.
Now I didn’t really have the chance to come out much. I only came out to a few people, but then the news spread like wildfire. My friends at my school were all accepting of me, some of them wished I told them myself, others were glad they new. But then it got to my parents, and they didn’t accept me at all. It was rough. Everyday I would cry just wanting my home life to be better. I almost took my own life. But then I found a “secret gay club” at my school. A bunch of lgbtq+ people came together after school on Friday’s to talk about their problems their stories and even just how they were feeling that day. I found a home there (even though I only went to about 3 meetings). They helped me learn to accept myself for who I am, labels or not.
Now it has been about 3 years since I have come out. Things have gone up and down but are gradually getting better. I have had a few people who have supported me throughout, and I couldn’t be more grateful. My home life is slowly but surely getting better, and even if it doesn’t I still have a few people who love me for who I am.
For anyone struggling to figure out who they are, finding what labels works for them, or are struggling with acceptance from themselves or others, THINGS GET BETTER !!! I PROMISE THEY DO !!! You have your whole life to figure out who you are. You don’t have to have a label if you don’t want to, you can just be you. Overtime, you will find acceptance. Whether it’s through someone you meet, people warming up to the idea of who you are, or even through sites like this, there will always be a community that will accept you. You just have to breathe, give it time, and never give up on yourself.

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

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

Progression not Perfection from a gay mormon

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.

My journey is far from over, stalled out yes but not over…not yet. I was born and raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons-not the polygamist version). When I look back over my life, I realize that I felt different, broken…a mistake when I was 3 or 4. Going through life, church every Sunday, church activities almost every evening, seminary in the mornings…year after year. I tried so hard to be just like everyone else. But I felt something for women that I didn’t feel for men…while I didn’t understand what any of those feelings meant I knew I needed to keep my secret…a secret I didn’t even know about. I didn’t meet anyone who was gay until I was 21-ish and still had no idea I could be gay until I was 24 or so. Xena was the first suggested gay anything I had ever known. I fought against it so hard, I was always the “tomboy” and hated with a passion when someone would call me gay. As if at that time I even knew what gay was, I just knew that you couldn’t be gay and be in the church. You can’t go to heaven unless you marry in the temple. I had to be straight but I hated the idea of being with a man. After all, men were the ones who told me what I could do with my body, men were the ones that used my body before I ever knew what my body was for. But women were safe, soft and caring. I fell in love with my best friend in 1st grade but had no idea at the time what I was. Who I am. Just that I had to keep it a secret. I tried killing myself in high school…for a lot of reasons really, but mostly because I felt and had learned that I was a mistake, that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t normal. But I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted. My junior year of college I met gay people for the first time, and suddenly life started making sense. Their stories were like mine, the confusion, the loss and the horrible lonely ache of feeling like you can’t be you. At that time though, only church members were really in my life…when they started suspecting I was kicked out of two separate housing locations, I lost my all of my friends. All of them. It wasn’t hard coming out to my mom, bless her soul she has loved me and supported me even when I hate myself. She is the only reason I exist now. Dad, well…I’ve blocked most of it out but remember him with a steak knife. The majority of my family loves the sinner but hates the sin. I’ve been fired from jobs for being gay. I’ve been beaten up, called names, spit at and threatened…but I can’t change who I am. I still feel like a mistake, either waiting to die or waiting for life to start…and while I have no idea what actually happens in the afterlife…I know that I live with integrity. I help those less fortunate than me, I help lost and abandoned animals, I give to charities and I work with some of the most challenging of clients in my professional life…I’m not gloating, not puffing my chest. Just saying that I’m being me, all of me. I am gay. I love women. I love helping others. I firmly believe that if we do our best every day, no matter what the best looks like…that maybe God/the universe will understand that I am the way I was made as God intended. Yes, I still feel broken, lost and a mistake…and if being gay keeps me from heaven, then sadly I admit okay. I cannot change who I am any more than I can change my blood type. I cannot change my faith even if my church hates me. Coming to terms with yourself is not a destination, it is a journey and I am far from the end. Yes some days are better than others, and some days I am a victim to my own mind but this I promise…I will never give up my integrity as a good human. An empath. A gay Mormon. Had God wanted me different, then I would be different. No matter where you are in your journey…know others have been there. While the steps are not the same, the feelings are. Don’t let anyone steal your shine. You are worth it. Every little bit. You are worth it and so much more. Be at peace and know you are loved. <3 Deb

Lesbian

when i was in 7th grade i was confused why all my celebrity crushes were female. I asked my friends that was it normal to have all female crushes. They didn’t know what to say. Time went by and then i had my first non-celebrity crush. Then i did the test and it said im bisexual. But i lied to myself that i like boys too. I’ve always been attracted to girls but i didn’t realize that. So finally i was sure that I’m not straight and i told my friends that I’m bisexual. Then i started to watch Wynonna Earp and that made me realize that im into girls only. So i came out to my friends as lesbian.
It took me a very long time to come out to my family but my sister, brother and dad were supportive. only my mom was like “it will go away”. Now i have been out over a year and im very happy and proud to be a lesbian.

Femke, 28Y, Belgian ( Europe) – putting the L in LGTB – CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

My story, ….
When I was about 13y old, i fell in love for the very first time. I know you’re basically still a child then but I had never felt that way before.
The head-over-heels kinda love. My teacher of dutch was the aim of all that love, haha.
My best friend knew what was going on, we had been in the same class since we were 3y old.
I felt so happy, the pink cloud you know. but I struggled too…. It felt so wrong. It didn’t hit me at first but the moment i realized that i did not just like her, but fell in love with her, i also realized that my teacher was not a man, but a beautiful at that time 27y old ( i think ) woman.

Damn, that hit me hard. It felt so so wrong. Everything about it was wrong. falling in love with your teacher? UGH. Falling in love with a woman? UGH. AT 13y? UGH!

Time passed and i did not know how to cope.
So i started ‘cutting’ myself at my wrists. I wore wristbands to cover it up.
I didn’t do it for a long time but by the end i had about 30 marks, each 2 to 3 cm ( about an inch ).

Luckily, the friend i mentioned before, knew that particular teacher also private, as the were neighbors.
She told her what i had been doing, and why….

The teacher talked to me several times, she made time for me during lunch brakes to discuss why everything felt so wrong.
She told me it was okay to fall for a teacher ( happens to a lot of people) but that ofcourse it was not mutual.
BUT also that these feelings for people of the same gender weren’t so wrong as i thought. her sister apparently was gay too.
She looked up some tips to stop the cutting. one i remember was wearing an elastic band around my wrists. so when i felt the need to hurt, i could just pull it, but no scars, no wounds, …. it was the first step to make it stop.

I’m still thankful to this day that she helped me, that she comforted me, that she made me feel good and okay.
Even though it must have been kinda awkard sitting in that room with a kid that is so in love with you….

Yet after all that was over, i did not have the courage to come out to more of my friends or my family.
I waited until i was 16. we got an assignment at school, to make an ad, a kind of collage for your older self to look at. with wishes, aspirations, ..
I wrote down that i hoped i’d be happy with my wife …. a little later our teacher ( religion ) asked something about it, and i came out to my entire classroom. it felt so freeing yet so difficult that immediately after i ran out of class. my emotions were just too much and i did not want anyone to see it, neither did i want to hear a reaction because i was afraid there might be negative ones.
But most of them wore cool with it. except for some boys who reacted rather childish, and i expected it from those particular boys so it didn’t affect me that much ( but it always does a bit … i”m sure you’ll understand ).

I was very scared of my parents reaction too. I kinda knew they would probably be okay with it, my older niece had a girlfriend at the time, my mom’s boss was gay, … and my parents were fine with all of that. but still i had the idea that when it would be their own child, they would react differently.
but they didn’t. my mom was kinda sad, but just because i hadn’t told her sooner, instead of carrying this weight on my shoulders alone for such a long time.

So it all went much smoother than i thought. I realize many people have it a lot worse than me.
but still the thought process, the mental struggle, …. i wish it will be different for the generations to come.
that they can grow up, without thinking for just a minute that they’re wrong, that they’re not good enough.
cause they are good enough.

I am happily married with my beautiful wife Elise, who is a teacher too ;-), see it comes all full circle haha.
We’re expecting our first child, so soon we’ll be a family of 3.

Hope it all works out for all of you 2

As Ellen would say: ” be kind to one another”

Femke
* sorry for the spelling mistakes, my computer freaks out when i type in english.
and i’m not a native speaker ofcourse.

Lesbian, Queer

I always knew I was different from other girls. Different from my peers. I was an only child who grew up around college professors, spiritualists, and artists. My parents taught me that the most important thing in life was to always seek knowledge. That one of the most insidious dangers was anyone or anything that demanded you to OBEY without asking questions. But that still got buried while I was trying to survive the public school system in Idaho (very conservative).

Teenagers, especially teen girls, can be BRUTAL to anything that is different. I was already weird enough for wanting to do well in my classes, communicating well with adults, and being an artist. Adding “why no I don’t think Johnny is cute but I think his sister is gorgeous” to the mix seemed impossible. Seemed terrifying. So I sat on it. I laughed at queer jokes. I ate the poison dished out by my peers and it made me sick every day. It wasn’t until college that I started feeling more comfortable with being queer.

Coming out for me came in many steps. My first girlfriend in high school. Telling my friends when I needed support because she wanted to stay in the closet and it was killing me. Telling my peers because I was in pain after my break up and I was too bitter to stay quiet. Telling my parents. Telling my coworkers. Turning down jobs that paid more but fostered an anti queer environment that would force me back in the closet. Not lying when someone asked me if I was queer.

It’s still hard, especially on days when I have to listen to someone spewing poison about how much they hate anyone in the LGBTQ+ community. I imagine there will be more steps in my journey but with each one, it gets a little easier.