Community Rainbow Waves

My name is Melissa, I’m 20 and this is my Rainbow Wave

I always knew that I was different in many ways : I wasn’t thin enough, I wasn’t “girly” enough, I wasn’t quiet enough, funny enough…. As a child I was proud of what make me different from the others, I was a little girl who loved biology and astronomy, who loved to read everything that fell in my hands. I practically grew up surrounded by boys so I acted like them and loved the same things that they loved : I loved playing soccer, playing in the grass and mud, jumping in puddles and climbing in the trees. And of course the women in my family (my mother, my godmother and my grandmother) disliked it. They wanted me to behave “like a girl”; for them it was not get all dirty by playing in the mud, sit correctly and straight, and most importantly I didn’t have to be loud. I believed that in order to fit in I had to stop being myself. As I grew up and went to middle school I started to shut myself down, I would stop going outside to play with other kids and instead spend hours in my room, reading books and creating stories with my imagination. I became quiet, I barely talked anymore… I kind of disappeared.

I was in 8th grade when I started to question my sexuality. I was never really interested in boys but seeing as every girl was, well I forced myself into being interested. I even had a boyfriend for a few months. So at the beginning of this new year, with a new class I met new people. And I remember noticing this girl in my class. She had the most beautiful eyes I ever saw, they were as blue as the summer sky and I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the sound of her laugh or the way she smiled when she was talking with her friends. Of course at first I didn’t really thought much about it, I assumed I admired her and just wanted to be like her. Then I realized that I was becoming strangely obsessive with her (not in a weird way, just in the way of a middle school girl with her first crush), I started to look for her in the crowd of middle schoolers and every time I would spot her, I was flustered and lost the track of whatever was happening around me. That’s when I realized that I had a crush on her. At first I tried to deny it as much as I could, but even with all the will in the world, I couldn’t fight these feelings. I was scared and didn’t know what was the meaning of this or to who I could talk about it, so naturally I decided to hide it as best as I could.

Then one day, I was talking with my best friend about this new TV show that we discovered a few weeks ago. She wouldn’t stop talking about this one guy that she find cute and also really hot and I was like ‘Meh I guess he is ok, but like have you seen her ?!” and I launch into a huge rant about this other character. As we join others friends, my mind started to wander back to this conversation. I realized that I talked only about female characters while my best friend talked about the male ones. I thought back on other conversations and I came with this same conclusion every time : I couldn’t stop talking about girls. Later that day at home, I started searching for answers on the internet and fell into the many LGBTQ+ websites and articles. As I learned more and more through different stories of people and put the pieces together, I understood that I was a lesbian.

I came out gradually to my loved ones when I felt that I was ready to share my truth. I’m lucky to have many people supporting me and it helped me accepting myself and be comfortable in my own skin. I learn to be more loud and proud of who I am, to embrace all of what make me different and to make the little girl I once was, proud of the woman I became.

What I want you to take from my story is that you should never let anyone tell you that you need to hide who you are in order to be more like anyone else, because our differences are what makes us beautiful and what make this world so interesting. Even if sometimes things are difficult and you think you will never be able to be yourself, you need to keep going, and be as true to yourself as you can because in the end everything will be worth it. My mom often says “Everything happens for a reason and it will make sense in its own time”, so remember that you are not alone in this and if nobody told you this yet : I am proud of you.

A person who fell in love with another person (who happened to be girl).

It took a really long time for me to accept that I was a part of this community. Straight out of high school I met an amazing person and very quickly we became inseparable. We were the very best of friends and would often talk about growing up and having families and children that would also be best friends (childhood dreams right?!). After around 18 months we realised we had stronger feelings but assured one another it was just a “temporary thing” until the “right” people came along. After some time we had to admit there was no one else we wanted to be with. We wanted to spend every minute with each other. Despite feeling this way we couldn’t bare to come out to the wider world. Shortly after this self revelation, as fate would have it we ended up at universities 5 hours apart. We spent the next four years making the five hour drive every weekend to see each other. After graduating and moving in with one another we still couldn’t bring ourselves to have “the talk” with our families. A year later we were pregnant with our first child and had to bite the bullet. This exciting news was met with tears (not the happy kind) from some family and shock and plenty of behind the scenes chatter from others. I think one person congratulations us. We had never hid our relationship specifically and there was a million obvious signs however everyone criticised us for not officially “coming out” sooner. That we never said the words “gay” or “lesbian” and made a clear declaration. The problem was that those words were synonymous with “less” and “a disappointment”. Someone who was different and it was acceptable to mock within our families. This is not how we saw ourselves and not how we wanted our families to see us. After having our daughter we got lots of practice “outing ourselves” to every random person who inquired about of beautiful little girl! We connected with local “rainbow family” groups and really began to feel we belonged to this community. 18 years on from meeting one another, we now have three gorgeous children and are grateful everyday for finding each other and never steering away from what always felt so right. The shame and “difference” associated with being a “rainbow family” has unfortunately still impacted us and our children as times but we continue to step forward and stand proud for we are a family filled with love.

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;

Queer / Non-Binary

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF ABUSE, SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR, AND SUICIDE.

Hello, my name is Paula from Brazil and my coming out history is a little confusing, so I’m gonna try to resume it as possible as I can.

Why is it complicated? Because a huge part of my childhood was erased from my mind, or at least for a long period I had these huge blanks in my brain, consequences of child abuse suffered from my 8 until my 12 years old. So when my teens came up I was struggling with a lot of stuff, so my orientation and sexual identity was on the surface of all my internal problems. Such as depression, substance abuse, ODs, attempts of suicide, and hospitalizations.

But at the same time, I was quite different and I was pretty conscious that I had attractions with girls but also with boys. Although with boys I was feeling guilty as well. Because I was constantly feeling all this overwhelming hate. Hate of the world, hate of myself, and hate of all men… almost rage if I’m being really honest. Probably, that’s why I was constantly close to dying because I wasn’t giving a fuck about anything.

My brother and best friend (RIP) was the first person I’d come out. I was 14 years old. But is funny though, because was him that asked me with I was gay. And was ok with all my family, as a matter of fact, everybody embraced. Honestly, I didn’t have a problem with the girl’s attraction part, I’d always felt comfortable and safe with them. My struggle was accepting that it was okay having attractions for boys as well. That only took 10 years of my life, even though I was able to have sex experiences with men I’m still having trust issues, emotionally speaking.

Only four years ago I could see other questions tagged in my mind. Questions about my identity, am I trans or not? Because I never felt comfortable with my body, but is it possible that is my child abuse tricking me? Or maybe I just don’t like labels and have a different idea about what women and men are. Or maybe I just don’t feel like either one of them. This is still a work in progress and sometimes I don’t think if I still have the energy. Or maybe is just fear because I live in a country where LGBTQ people have no voice or even proper rights. Especially trans people. Every day a trans life is taken from just for being trans in Brazil.

Music, art, vegan diet, animal care, and LGBTQ activism. Those are all the stuff that literally saved my life. Because I feel like we are here to constantly changing and to always transcend to a better version of ourselves, and maybe or probably, I’m gonna need another life to discover it. So kills me how the world can be so ugly sometimes.

And that’s why I really don’t know how I’m alive. I’m 30 years now and I look all this stuff I had to survive and deal with. But surprises me every day how hopefully I still am, and surprises me how I can be so fucking positive that annoys myself.
I know that I need to deal with a lot of stuff yet.

But I’m proud to already be so much more.

And especially I’m proud to look backward and access all that pain and suffering but with all the fucking strength of the world.

I’m proud to just be alive, honestly.

Lesbian

When I realised I had feelings for a close friend and freaked out. At that time, I already had another friend come out to me as bisexual so I knew that there was hope of me still being normal even though I was not straight.
I was forced out of the closet after I tried giving a family member some advice who then outed me to their homophobic parents. They threatened to tell mine unless I told them first.
I hope we can continue to spread love and acceptance to all and that we’re able to create more safe spaces. Thank you all for the work you do

Julie

I’d always been a tomboy. I grew up with 5 brothers and 1 sister (I’m also the youngest), and my dad was all about ‘the sports’ so we’d often be playing football, rugby, and quite a bit of cricket.

When I reached secondary school I really started to notice my feelings towards girls. I’d experienced these feelings before but I hadn’t known what they were, how to identify them.

I grew up in a really dodgy part of Yorkshire in England. It wasn’t a place one would ever identify as a ‘safe space’. It always felt like the whole town was… stuck. There wasn’t any art or culture, no diversity, and there certainly weren’t any (out) gay people. At least none that I can remember.

There wasn’t much to do in my town so as teenagers, me and my friends would end up drinking on the streets. I would only ever talk about my feelings when I was drunk and NEVER with anyone else, only ever to myself. I’d sit there and say “you’re not a lesbian. You’re not a lesbian!”

I did NOT want to stand out, I didn’t want to be different. When I was 14, a girl in the year below me had been outed and her life was made a living hell. No way was I going to do that to myself. So I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gay, that I’d meet the perfect boy and all those feelings would melt away thanks to his chiselled jaw and amazing magical penis.

Anyways, eventually I got out of that town and at 18 went to University. On my very first day, the very first person I spoke to was a super smiley friendly girl named Rachel. We immediately clicked and became instant best friends. But uh-oh, those pesky feelings were bubbling up again!

I ramped up my efforts to find the magical penis that drives off any lesbian tendencies. Personally, I found it pretty gross. And rather boring.

After about 4 months mine and Rachel’s friendship blossomed into something else. And it was MIND BLOWING! The first time we were together it was like my whole body was suddenly awake. Every touch, every sensation was just utterly amazing (I’m being super gushy, sorry). I was DEFINITELY a lesbian.

It wasn’t easy sailing though. Rachel and I had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. I’d finally accepted my feelings to myself and to Rachel, but my fear of people finding out I was gay was still firmly in place. That fear meant that I, at times, ended up hurting Rach. She wasn’t out either but she handled everything with a great deal more grace and elegance than I ever did.

Over time, as our fledgling romance deepened, we found the courage to come out to our friends. They were very loving and supportive which was a huge relief. I was terrified my best friend from home would be horrified and disown me, but her reaction was so far from it! Which is also silly because I’d known her since we were 6 years old, she was never going to push me away! But I suppose that’s why the fear intensifies when having to tell the most important people in your life – the idea of losing someone you love that much is a hard thing to shake off.

Rachel came out to her parents after about 6 months. Again, they were very accepting and welcomed me with open arms. When Rach was back home and I’d go to stay with them, not having to hide our relationship was such a weight off. We were even allowed to sleep in the same bed… Get in!! 😀

My coming out to my mum took just a little bit longer. Rach and I had been together almost a year. It was Christmas in the second year of uni and Rach was going back to her parents and I to mine. My brother came to pick me up and saw me saying a very soppy goodbye to my ‘best friend’. Over the 20 minute car journey he finally asked me “are you two a couple?”. The word “yes” sat in my throat for what felt like a lifetime. I eventually managed to push it out and then waited for the repercussions…

The smile on my brother’s face was the most relieving thing in the whole wide world. We talked, we laughed, I *nearly* cried (I’m not very good with emotions). Problem was, now my brother knew, it meant I had to tell my mum.

My mum is a very intelligent woman with some interesting views, shall we say. She had gay friends when I was in my teens, but she always called them ‘queers’ and not in the positive way. In a nutshell, I was sh*tting it.

I spent the whole of the two week Christmas break hovering, trying to blurt out “I’m a giant lesbian!”. I almost said it after watching ‘Bend Is Like Beckham’ after the whole confusion where Keira Knightley’s mum thinks she’s a lesbian. I took a deep breath, had the words ready, and said “right, I’m off to bed then”. Fail.

The last morning before going home I went and sat on my mum’s bed to talk to her. I still couldn’t do it. My mum threw me a lifeline though – “is there something you want to tell me? I feel like you’ve been hovering”. I got under her duvet, covered my face, heart pounding through my chest, lump in my throat, “me and Rach are an item”. Head between legs, fingers in ears, wait for the eruption…

“I know. I heard you call her ‘sweetheart’ on the phone. I didn’t ask because I wanted you to tell me in your own time”. And just like that, my mum knew I was gay and my world didn’t end. I even got a call from my gran telling me I was still the same person, and “we talk to ’em (gay people) don’t we!” She was trying to be sweet so I let that go.

My mum took it well initially but still had her own struggles with me coming out, mainly because she had plans for me to have a strapping young husband to do her DIY. She got there in the end though.

Rachel and I have now been together for 16 years and our 12th Wedding anniversary is in May. We have a 6 year old son and live a very happy ‘out’ existence. That smiley girl, the very first person a shy me spoke to at Uni, became the love of my life.

Apologies for the huge essay.

Final note though – if I’ve learned anything in my 34 years, it’s love who you love and live your best life for you.

Stay kind beautiful people.

I’m attracted to those who are attracted to me. content warning – this coming out story contains discussion and/or mention of sexual assault and self-harming behaviour

I really struggled with my sexuality growing up. I was surrounded by boys and all I wanted to be was like my older brothers. I’d steal their clothes growing up so I could dress like a boy. I sometimes wondered if I was supposed to be one. I was sexually assaulted at a young age by someone close to me. Just typing that causes so much anxiety and shame that I know I shouldn’t feel, but I’ve never got the help that I should have and very few people in my life have been told the full story.
Over the years, I was openly attracted to boys and even had a few crushes. Under the surface there was always one girl that I would be attracted to, at different stages of my life. There was a girl during elementary, then one during middle school and high school, and then another during and after college. All of these girls identified as straight, but I was closer to them than anyone else. They had the power to determine my moods on a frightening level. It got worse as I got older. I still continued to have crushes and other feelings towards boys too, and I was much more vocal about these feelings.
When I got to college I developed a very close and affectionate, but slightly unhealthy relationship with a girl. Nothing sexual ever happened, but I became very dependent on her and this is where the frightening mood swings would come in.
I would never get violent with anyone but myself. When I spoke about her to others it would be met with questions of if I liked girls. I would say no and try to rationalize my thoughts and feelings.
I got some space from this girl, and although it took me a long time, I eventually became less dependent on her and she had less influence on my moods. It took several more years for me to come to terms that I might be bisexual, and then I realized more recently that I’m probably more Pansexual. It was actually while watching Wynonna Earp and shipping #Wayhaught that I became more aware and comfortable with coming to those realizations enough to share them with my friends. I haven’t come out and told my family directly, but I’ve said it in other ways. Everyday I try to accept myself a little bit more for who I am. My biggest struggle now is learning to love myself in every aspect, including my looks, and finding the strength and discipline to change/improve what I don’t like about myself.

My name is Heather, and this story has been brought to you by the letters L and G, and by the number 9.

When I was around 5 years old I had my first crush/love and her name was Dolly Parton. I thought she was really pretty and a good singer. I used to make believe I was marrying her (If you ever read this, Carl Dean, I hope you find it funny!). I grew up playing with my boy cousins when they weren’t being jerks. I liked running around outside in the dirt. I didn’t like wearing dresses or anything remotely “girly.”

Boys weren’t really on my radar and somewhere along the way I was taught that girls liking girls or boys liking boys was gay and therefore gross and wrong. I got into Tae Kwon Do and was the first girl in my school so obviously I was noticed. During those years I began wanting to having a boyfriend because the thought of holding hands with someone was nice. But sometime in high school I began thinking about girls. Of course I would never tell anyone. It was gross and wrong. But why did I keep thinking about it? Did I have a deathwish?

My first serious boyfriend was Glenn. I was 17 and he was 22. Hold on. Let that sink in for a moment. Now I’ll tell you that this was 1997 when the internet was pretty new and the idea of meeting people from online chatrooms was insane. Yet here this man came from New England to see me and we hit it off. I still can’t believe my parents were okay with it. I guess times were different then. At some point I told Glenn that I sometimes thought about girls. But I wasn’t gay. I still wasn’t gay even when a really pretty girl sent me a pic of herself in her bra. I was really confused and told myself it was bad.

After Glenn I had a bit of a break before the next boyfriend. I was a sophomore in college and pledged a sorority and started making new friends. I fell for one of my sisters. Her name was Tammy and she was so adorable and innocent. I remember one night as I was leaving her suite after a visit she gave me a hug and I just closed my eyes and thought, ‘This is perfect.’ I confided in a few friends that knew how to keep a secret and eventually told Tammy. She said she could love me as a friend and a sister. I was 99% sure it would go nowhere but there was that 1% of hope. I left for the summer, came back in the fall, and then not long after began seeing Billy who I also met online but this time on a dating website.

Initially I looked at Billy’s profile and passed because he was 32 and I was 20. But then he sent me a message so I figured I’d reply and it just went from there. It turned out he went to my college and lived just outside of the town. We were together for three years. I think it lasted that long because he was easy. But I didn’t just want to stick around in my college town when there were other things to experience. Billy was set in his ways and when I realized he would never go with me no matter what, my depression was truly kickstarted. If you’ve ever seen the video for the song “Turn Down For What” then you’ll know what I mean about crashing through the floor.

Next came Erick and that was an exercise in futility but I didn’t want to see it. He would say he loved me but didn’t want a relationship at the moment. Depression and love self-esteem make an option like Erick seem fine because you think you don’t deserve better. We had fun times like online gaming. He introduced me to a couple of games that I would play over the next several years. It was in one of those games that I met the gamechanger in the form of a woman named Deidra.

Deidra was part of a group I would chat with on IRC (Is that even still a thing?) and sometimes hang out in-game with. She openly flirted with me and at first I really did not know how to process it. It was just something I had never seen or experienced. I started crushing on her and eventually I said to myself, “Heather, you need to stop lying to yourself. You are definitely into women.” Deidra was one of the first people I told. Erick was still around and I went to visit him once. But during the whole trip there, all I could think about was Deidra. Erick ended up cutting me loose when I point blank asked if there was any chance of us being together. That was the last time I was ever involved in some fashion with a man. I was 25 years old and began identifying as bisexual.

For the next while I began looking for movies, stories, anything about women loving women. An “L Word” fansite practically saved my life one night when I was feeling so low that I was scared of what I might do. I got involved in that fandom and was able to connect with other women like me and some became friends I still talk to today.

Eventually I began wondering if I even really liked men. I can’t say I didn’t love the men from my past because that would be lying. But then when I really thought about it, whenever I thought of the future, I didn’t see a man beside me. Instead I saw a woman. Today I identify as gay or lesbian and sometimes queer. The idea of being with a man is just not appealing to me anymore.

As of the end of this story I am 41 and have had a couple of girlfriends. Donna* (name changed as she is not out that I know of) I met through the “Wentworth” fandom a few years ago. That didn’t last very long due to distance and other factors. Then there was Cindy* (another changed name but they know who they are) who I met through the “Wynonna Earp” fandom. Even though it didn’t work out they are still a very dear friend of mine. As for who’s next, well, I have no idea. I’ll just have to wait and see.

Oh, and in case you were wondering what the number 9 has to do with anything, it’s my favorite number. It’s almost a perfect 10 but still has some areas to improve upon.

Lesbian

I had never been much interested in boys, while my group friends talked about the boys they liked I never really cared for it or wanted to comment on it. After a few years I drifted apart from that group of friends. One day at school
when I was either 14 or 15 one of the girls from that group approached me and asked if I’m a lesbian. I was shocked and didn’t know how to respond immediately, I had answered with a no and asked where that question came from. She had explained that I had never shown any interest nor talked about boys while I was still friends with them and that I was always very tomboyish. So I thought about it and I said maybe. She left and I quickly followed her to ask not to tell anyone. We got into a lively conversation and her other friends approached to ask what was going on and she flat out told them that I’m a lesbian. I was furious, more people came along and they told them as well.
Soon so many people knew of something I wasn’t even sure of and it was embarrassing. I changed schools after the year ended and I started to question my sexuality a whole lot. I was afraid to call myself a lesbian so I went with every other thing, asexual, aromatic, bisexual, pansexual, lesbian, back to pansexual. A rollercoaster for many years. But recently, I discovered myself completely at the ripe age of 20, that I’m a lesbian. I came out to my close friends very quickly and I was showered with love and acceptance. I couldn’t have been happier really. I love being a lesbian and I love my community. Much love to everyone

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks