Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

I guess I’ve always known, I’ve always hung out with the dudes, never really had a crush on them or anything. That was until junior high. I knew I needed to date somebody, but who? Well, that was the part I didn’t know. Those 3 years I dated some boys, but never felt a real connection. I associated that with being young and not knowing what love was about.
My freshman year in high school, I met this girl I instantly fell in love with her. We clicked, and soon we were a thing.
But then the rumors started. Nasty, mean things were being said about me, and as I knew they were true, I too just wanted to fit in. To be normal, to not be the person others looked at. So I pushed my sexuality out of the way and pretended it was “just a phase”.
However, my sophomore year in high school I met this girl during the summer. She was beautiful, stunning even, and I knew then it wasn’t just a phase.
Soon however, word got around to my parents. And things weren’t so accepting. I was kicked out of my house for 3 months, luckily I had two very supporting sisters who took me in.
In the middle of my sophomore year is when things changed. I decided I wasn’t going to let the ideas or beliefs of other people affect who I was. So I officially came out as a lesbian woman. I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t care what others thought. I had no fear of the harsh things they would say, because in the end the only thing that matters is me.
After weeks of reconnecting and talking, my parents finally invited me back to live with them. We had a sit down conversation, with tears and yelling, but in the end I think my parents finally realized that I’m still their daughter, and nothing is going to change that.
Now, I’m 18, and things are awesome for me. I have a girlfriend who I love, a family who loves me and supports me for who I am, and friends who will always have my back.
It wasn’t easy, it never will be. But the thing that I will always remember, is that at the end of the day. I am me. Words don’t matter, what other people believe don’t matter, in the end it is me, my life, and who I am. And I am me.

I like what I like.

You can’t help who you love.

It began when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class with short dirty blonde hair and I still remember the red and white ruffled dress she wore, with her dingy white sneakers. I knew something was different. I was having these feelings that I couldn’t explain, and they continued to grow. My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot, and met a lot of different people. I was constantly bombarded with all these new attractions I was experiencing. When I was 10 years old, I realized that this was the real beginning of my struggle with my sexuality. There were two girls in my class that I could never stop talking about. I started drawing out their names during class and was constantly thinking about them. “This can’t be normal! Why am I having these feelings? What’s wrong with me? Do I tell mom and dad? What would they say?” Then I remembered I had an aunt, who was rumored to have a girlfriend, and that was highly frowned upon-yet no one ever confronted her about it. My parents just told us that “they were girlfriends.” I took that as they were together, but it was never explained or rarely spoken of. When it was mentioned, it was always with eyebrows raised. Their reaction to her made it even more difficult for me to want to talk to them.

After a few months at a new school, my sister found a couple drawings of girls’ names that I had really huge crushes on. “I LOVE…” She went straight to our mom with them! I was so embarrassed and confused. “You are just confused. You can talk to me, okay?” I WAS NOT going to talk to her! “This is my secret and it will pass,” I thought to myself. Maybe I was going through a phase. My dad was away, so I felt a little more at ease that I didn’t have to try to talk to him too.

I was 16 years old when my mom came up to me and asked me outright if I was gay. Her eyes pierced my soul. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so ashamed. I did NOT want to disappoint her. Without hesitation, I looked directly into her eyes and lied to her. “NO! I’m just not interested in anyone, that’s all.” She knew I was lying, but did not say so. I continued to have my secret crushes, but never allowed myself to fully give in to my feelings. It was miserable, to have all these feelings and be terrified to speak about them. My questionable sexuality was knocking at my door. I was in real trouble. It was getting harder and harder to suppress these feelings. My friends at school were all dating and here I was, not interested in any guys. AT ALL. I decided that I would just tell everyone that my mom would not allow me to date because I had to focus on my studies. That’s what Asian kids do right? They don’t have time for relationships!

I was 20 when I met Lou. She was the general manager at the restaurant that I worked at. Over the years of our friendship, she noticed that I never had a boyfriend, or talked about relationships in general. One day, I decided to date a guy. We had gone to high school together and he was recently divorced with a young son. Honestly, I was trying to test if I was really gay. This relationship ended quickly, as I realized that even if I had feelings for him, being with him felt like a job. I went through all the motions but had no real connection. I was watching him fall for me and for what? To disappoint him in the end? We ultimately broke up because I was always choosing work over him, or any excuse to keep him at a distance. My mom and Lou watch all of this unfold. Neither of them were fooled for a second. The thing that Lou said to me that I will never forget is that, “you can’t help who you love.” I didn’t answer, but I knew that she knew. I was 29 when I had the worst encounter of my life. I had met someone at my new job and had fallen in love with her, and I could NOT bear to tell her. The friendship ended horribly because I wouldn’t explain to her why I was so jealous of her boyfriend. In an effort to forget about how my life was completely ruined by me being in the closet, I decided suddenly to join the military. I needed a new environment, a change. I had to get out of here!

In a new place, I decided that I could finally be me. None of the past shame or mistakes. However, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” was still in effect (homosexual servicemen/servicewomen could stay in the military if they did not openly declare their sexual orientation). I got involved with a girl at the barracks, and things escalated quickly. We were careful, because we didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves. I lied to her about my past in the beginning, but seeing how serious it was getting, I finally told her to truth. I’d never been with a woman. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. During the duration of our relationship, we had difficult arguments. I had not come out to my family and was avoiding it, which was a huge problem for her since she expected them to know that she existed as more than my friend. She wanted to get married and wanted kids, and to be accepted by my family. I was not ready for ANY of that. Everything was still so new but I still was not able to be ME. I was living two separate lives.

The next year, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Within that year, she passed away. I never came out to her. And now she was gone. I fell into a horrible depression and was not sure I going to make it in the military. I had only been in for a couple years and my girlfriend was afraid I would ruin my career. Since I had been free of suppressing my sexuality, I decided to suppress my grief over losing my mom. It caught up to me a few months later when I getting ready to report to my first ship. We dated for another year before she ended things. We were on opposite coasts and would be separated for 3-4 years. My first REAL heart break. As soon as I was able, I went home on leave and came out to my dad and sisters. I came out to my dad first, and boy was that the hardest thing I ever had to do. I couldn’t even look at him. He is a man of very little words so when he asked if I was sure, I looked at him through my tears. “Dad, I’ve known since I was 5.” He looked down, then said, “okay,” and walked away. I felt a huge wave of relief. I mean, he didn’t hug me or tell me everything was going to be fine, but I knew it would be. I came out to my sisters next, which was much easier. “I knew it! Why couldn’t you just tell us? It was obvious! I remember your little drawings,” my one sister yelled. The other one was still a baby back then, but then chimed in, “I was just waiting for you to tell us.” I started crying because I wasn’t able to tell my mom, and that I would never be able to tell her.

Newly single at 32 and a new duty station was just the change that I needed . “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed and I could serve the remainder of my time in the military truly happy and free. When asked “what I am,” I would always answer, “I like what I like.” I still to this day have no label and have been happy in my “no label” sexuality since then. I have never felt the need to come out to everyone. My dad and sisters know and I’m okay with that. In my dad’s words, “You don’t need to announce it to the world. You don’t owe anyone any explanation. You do what you feel is right, and what makes you happy.”

I finished my contract and returned home. I had a lot of people speculate on my sexuality but the only person I cared about was Lou. She has been my best friend for years and like a big sister, but I still have not come out officially to her. I don’t feel the need to. Outside of my dad and sisters, I know that she loves me unconditionally. I know that she knows, and I believe she is still waiting on me to tell her. Maybe I will soon. 21 years later is not too late.

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!

Girl that likes girls but loves people

I come from Serbia, country in Europe. When I was thirteen I had my first girl crush, but at first I didn’t admit it to myself. Later I thought I was bisexual, cause it seemed easier. I came out to myself and my family when I was in high school. I am so lucky that my parents and sisters accept my sexuality. As the years passed by, I came out to my friends and became more open about talking about that to people surrounding me. Unfortunately, my grandma and her side of family don’t know so I’m feeling like half of me is still in the closet. I feel like I’m not fully out and that frustrates me. It is hard for LGBTQ+ people to live in my country, but we’re taking baby steps.

Becoming the man I am, the man I want to be. And reclaiming the things I had resented over the years.

Growing up I was one of the boys, gender didn’t matter. Playing outside, drawing with chalk on sidewalks, riding around in our little toy go carts and just generally being happy, back then no one cared about labels, boy or girl.
We cared about our friends and loved them no matter what.
Starting school was different, suddenly I was pushed into the role of the gender I was assigned at birth, made to wear pink clothes, not getting the car or dragon bag I wanted, instead it was pink, with cats on it – I don’t have anything against cats, or the color Pink in fact – but back then, it was the worst thing that could happen to me, being forced into wearing and doing things that were stereotypically feminine, it hurt. It really hurt.
Because I perceived myself completely differently from the people around me. I wasn’t and still am not a girl. I never was.

It took years for me trying to figure out my place in this world, who I was and who I strived to be. When I was twelve I finally was able to get the haircut I always wanted, short hair. And boy did it feel great.
I knew that trans people existed, my mother even was friends with a trans man When I grew up, but I still didn’t realize that people assigned female at birth could transition to male.
I mean how could I have known? The representation lacked and still is lacking, but I will elaborate on what that means to me later.
I only knew about trans women existing so when I finally realized that trans men existed, and I would be able to transition, I jumped with joy.

But then the dread settled in, how would I tell the people around me?
My Mama? My grandparents? My friends?
What if they wouldn’t want me anymore because I am me? Should I live my life unhappy? I also had a bad case of imposter syndrome, constantly questioning myself when I knew I was so sure.
So I took small steps, telling my mother about the possibility that I might not be female, as she perceived. Telling a few friends and so far everyone reacted nicely, no one badmouthed me or told me how wrong I was for finding out who I was.

Still it took me years after that, until March of this year to be exact. To finally be able to voice proudly who I was, that I was David, not the name chosen for me at birth. Finally, telling people to please respect my name and pronouns.

2020 so far has been detrimental for me, being able to start treatment soon (I hope that I can be on HRT before summer 2021, and so far that might be the case), I figured where I want to go in life, and I finally reclaimed things I was grown to resent because of the perception being stereotypically female.
I am able to wear pink again! Wear nail polish or ear rings, which made me so uncomfortable before.
I figured out what I want to do in life, I want to give people like me and the LGBTQ+ community the representation it deserves. If that does not work out, I will go into psychology to help LGBTQ+ youth find themselves. I just desperately want to give the community what they deserve, and what I did not have growing up.

I still have a long journey to go, but I’ve already come this far, I’ve already had so much thrown at me that I am ready to face the world as who I am.

And I hope that i will read this one day, proud of what I’ve achieved, proud of the young man I am now.

I hope this message gives people the strength they need. Love the people around you, no matter who they are or want to be. Spread love.

Stay healthy, Be safe, be proud.

Much love
-David

Sunflower in a Rainstorm

Being apart of the LGBTQ+ community is never something anyone could ever plan for. At first there is usually some form of confusion and shame. However, every single person has a beautiful story on how they have persevered through. Here is my story.

My coming out story started in the 7th grade with a girl who had beautiful blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. I knew at the time the feelings I had for her were “wrong” but there was always this gravitational pull toward her. Being that this wasn’t a “normal” feeling to have, I didn’t give into my urges because “girls are suppose to be with boys” and “everyone will think I am a freak.” Because of those constant reminders of social normalities, for the next few years I was on and off with boys. I never really had a dislike to boys but girls have always caught my eyes. All through middle school I was extremely confused with my own self identity. However, everything changed when I got to high school.

I have always been an athletic girl so I decided that I was going to go for the varsity basketball team. I successfully made the team as one of the 3 freshman players. At first was quite intimidating playing with 17 and 18 year olds, until I became close with Raquel. Raquel was another freshman who had always played a few grade levels up, therefore, she already knew the entire team. Trying to fit in I latched onto Raquel to get my in with the upperclassmen. However, the more I got to know Raquel, the more it opened my eyes about myself. Raquel has identified herself as a lesbian and has been out since she was in 5th grade. She has had multiple girlfriends and always talked about how experienced she was. Fascinated, I continued to hang out with her to learn more which allowed me to feel more like myself. I never before knew a real life lesbian.

In the beginning of our off season we decided to join the University of Florida camp tournament where we would stay in dorms and train with the woman’s basketball team. Unfortunately, Raquel picked to room with one of her upperclassman friends so I roomed with the other freshman. During the day, we had groups separated by position, which was great because Raquel and I played the same position. The camp was 4 days long and every day was a different activity that would completely drain all my energy but I got to be with Raquel. The only time that really sucked was night when I couldn’t see her. But I would wake up every morning excited to get another conversation in with her. On the last night, I was getting ready for bed when I got a text. It read “Meet me in my room in 5 minutes xx-R” Super excited I threw on my sweats and waited outside her room. My heart was racing when she opened the door. The room was pitch black and our other teammate was already sleeping. Raquel motioned me to get into her bed so we squeezed into the tight double bed. Silence surrounded us and Raquel was pulling me in closer to her body. My heart was thumping but my eyes stayed locked onto hers. After what felt like forever, Raquel finally whispered “I know what you are” and kissed me. Her lips were magical, nothing like I have ever felt with any boy. We continued holding each other and shared a few more kisses until it was time for me to sneak back into my room. When I got back to the room I finally knew. I have finally came out to myself.

Finding that ground of who you truly are is probably the most scariest things that anyone in the LGBTQ+ community has to go through. Not knowing who is going to accept you or understand you is a daunting feeling which can make you feel alone and isolated. But I just want you, the reader, to know that I understand and I accept you. A quote that has always stuck with me is this: “Not all those who wander are lost.” Be your own truth and know that you have an entire community behind you, supporting you. I love you and we are in this together. #StartTheWave

Dakota, cisgender, lesbian, she/her

I grew up in a small country town in South Carolina. I was always a tomboy, playing with the boys, playing sports and loved getting dirty. I always felt different from everyone, especially girls, and I never understood why. In high school, I had thoughts that maybe I was gay but never understood the term because I never had any representation. Dating guys never worked out so I just assumed I was a broken human. I ended up going to college at a small school in the Northeast and played college softball. One of my teammates was basically like you’re gay and that’s how I pretty much came out to myself. Then the process of coming out to all my friends (they were all great and knew before I did). My favorite thing about college was the ability to discover myself: how I dressed, acted, etc and how comfortable I was. I did discover the pain that comes with heartbreak during my 4 years of undergrad. The struggle of discovering your sexuality at a later age means facing the trial and errors of dating as an adult (confusion, awkwardness). I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time (lol). The hardest person I had to come out to was my dad (at 23) and I still feel like I have to pretend to be someone different around him. It’s a long and hard process. Everyday, I feel like I am discovering something new about myself. It’s definitely tough being a woman who likes the same gender but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Hopefully, one day I can find the love of my life and show her how amazing life can be. It hasn’t been the easiest for me in the 25 years I’ve been alive but if you believe, it can only go up from here.

I am Me!

I think this has always been apart of me, ever since I was young. Looking back it was probably more obvious to those around me such as my teachers and family, watching a young girl take on mini battles against the stereotypical gender norms. I did not want to play by the rules! So I did everything in my power to not, always making sure i was on the boys team for tag at breaktime, running to join in with the boys football match in PE rather than suffer the horror that was Netball and being forced into those frilly skirts. Tomboy was an apt description at the time. I couldn’t put my finger on it but the idea of being seen as girly and weaker or more sensitive really got to me, so once again I would fight against it any time I was told to let the stronger boys pick up a heavy box I would make sure I was right at the front of the line ready to prove them wrong. Moving into High School was a horror, day 1 and it seemed I had a target etched on my back, they used everything they could against me (well, everything they could see) my height, weight and basic appearance to break me down. Then suddenly it wasn’t just what they could see, words like gay and lesbian started to be thrown around. I had never once used those words but the idea of me being attracted to another girl in my class seemed like the worst possible thing to everyone. This again is where I could have twigged something was there when all of my crushes was basically any of my female teachers under the age of 40. But still we continue to age I’m going to guess 16, when i first told someone I thought i was Bisexual, as soon as I said i regretted it, the word just didn’t sit right with me, labelling me just didn’t sit right with me. So for years I never really explored or spoke about my ‘love life’ (or lack thereof). Then moving to Uni, I was terrified to talk about it, I was scared that if people found out I wasn’t straight they would shun me (like high school). But after a 2 years and many drunken nights kissing anybody and everybody (mainly girls) it came down to the simple question of if i were to be discussing some of my antics they would simply ask boy or girl. I never thought I would be in a relationship with a girl, but at the end of uni that changed and I had my first girlfriend, it didn’t last long but it allowed me to be more comfortable with my sexuality. I never really came out to my family it turned out for them they always seems to know, by simply saying I would end up with who i ended up with they never saw a gender. Even now I still find it hard to label myself as gay or anything really. Not trying to be cliche but I am just me anything else sounds wrong, maybe one day that will change but for now that’s what I’m going for. (sorry this was long, I’ve never written it out before, kind of theraputic)
Live for who you want to be don’t listen to others or be pressured into labelling yourself or outing yourself before your ready it can be a steady journey doesn’t have to be a sudden sit down convo where you blurt it out.

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…

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;