Community Rainbow Waves

BeKindNomad – Jude

While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.

Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.

Sasha

Everyone is born free, free to be. And I find it so very sad that the way that our world works, changes that as we grow. The older we get, the more we realize that in order to be genuine we have to be really strong willed and have a solid support base. In most cases, we adapt…our once loose laughs, become controlled ones, our beautiful tears become a rarity and bit by bit we change ourselves so we can be accepted by the world. I was a strong willed kid, full of personality, but life is such a crazy journey and I’ve been through some wild trails. Of course that every experience gifts us so many learning opportunities and, what I find the most important thing in someone’s character, it teaches empathy. However, in the long run, it also tires you and I got tired and I changed many parts in myself because I didn’t have the strength to do otherwise, I just wanted to be someone that people would love. In changing myself, I lost the chance to grow up discovering different aspects of my soul, my heart, my personality and my sexuality.

When I was 14, I got butterflies in my stomach every time I talked to my science teacher, without having any idea what it meant. When I was 15, the butterflies would fly for my literature teacher. I loved her curly red hair, her voice and her beautiful smile. She was caring, intelligent and passionate for what she did. With her, the butterflies were everywhere and I started to question my sexuality. I was really unaware of this diverse universe, since my family had never openly talked about it and on TV there wasn’t any solid representation that could enlighten me. I was very confused and I decided to talk to my sister. She, being just as unaware as I was, told me it was nothing and I gladly took it. I didn’t want to be more different than I already was. But that didn’t change the way I felt, it only got stronger and more imprisoning with every passing day. When I was 16, I was crushing on my math teacher (I was super into teachers!) and a sweet girl in my school (finally someone my own age!). During all this time, I was crushing on boys as well, kissing and experimenting with them, thinking how weird it felt for not being as good as everyone said it would be.

I spent my whole teenage life and early adulthood, feeling as if I didn’t belong anywhere. When I was 20, I decided to live alone and from that moment on I started on a journey of self discovery. I allowed myself to look deep inside and be free to feel. I started doing research about different types of sexual orientation, reading about other people’s experiences, watching videos on YouTube and searching for shows where I could see something that represented what I felt. At 22, I was sure, at 23, I was brave. The first person that I told to was myself, loud, clear and true. In my family, I first came out to my sister, who is my best friend and my soul, she was just as beautiful as I could have expected her to be. Then I told my mom, who was both okay and very curious about it (she’s done lots of research since then), then my dad, who said he already knew, and my closest friends. After coming out to everyone I considered important, I felt untouchable, whole and as if I was breathing for the first time, it was one of the best moments of my life.

Finding a label to classify myself into was very confusing, I first came out as bisexual, then I was told that I was a lesbian…But I never felt comfortable with the labels, they made me feel suffocated and like I had an obligation to stand by them, instead of standing by me. I’m 30 now, and I’m proud to say that what I am is what I was born to be: free! Free to be all the colors of my beautiful rainbow.

Old School Dyke

I came out 40 years ago this August when I was 19 years old. For me, the realization of who I was when I came out was like someone had thrown open the shutters and thrown up the sash and let the air and light into my life. Unfortunately, there was also a great since of fear especially at that time. Short history lesson: Stonewall had happened just 11 years earlier in 1969. Homosexuality was removed from the list of “mental illnesses” by the American Psychiatric Association only 7 years prior in 1973. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” was still 14yrs away so they did ask and if you were found out you could not only be disowned by your family, but chances were good you might lose your job or your housing and most of your friends.
For me it was a time of wonder, I was naïve. But I as lucky because when I first came out, I found an older lesbian, who I worked with, that was able to help me navigate this new hidden world and find the community. You must remember that this is long before the internet, so finding each other was exceedingly difficult. She taught me about feminist bookstores, Lesbian Connection (a newsletter that is still published today), women’s potlucks, women’s music and of course the bars, though very few if any of those women’s space still exist. It was all about knowing the code words and symbols: feminist, womyn, potluck, lavender, violets, labrys, etc. To this day I still use “the look” with other women in public that let us each other know that we are the same without words.
Regarding the fear and history there is one story that I carry with me to this day. It was on St. Patrick’s Day 1981 when my older lesbian mentor smuggled me into the Three Sisters bar in Denver. I know they knew I was a little underage, but they also knew that the lesbian bars were one of the few places that was safe to meet other people like yourself. The Sisters was packed that night and the group I was with had been there about 30-40 minutes when across the room there is a face I recognized. Being young, and like I said naïve and feeling invincible I got up and walked across the bar, and bold as brass walked up to the woman I recognized and said: “Hi Miss (name withheld)”, to my high school guidance counselor. She turned and looked at me and said HI back in a very trepidatious way, not using my name and being kind of distant… I was a bit taken aback as we had been close in high school but figured whatever ‘it’s been awhile’ and went back to the group I was with. About a half hour later she came across the bar to me and said, “Hi Jackie” and introduced me to the woman she was with and we spoke for a few minutes. To this day I cannot forget the look of sheer terror that ran across her face when I said her name, it was the first time I understood just how dangerous being out could be. If found out she would have lost her job, possibly her home – everything. She was sacred of me recognizing her in a lesbian bar and it took her over a half hour to realize that if I was there too it was OK, and her secret was safe. I wish I could say that was the only time over the years that I have seen “that look”, but I am glad to say that I see it very seldom now and I hope that this generation and the next will never have to see it.
Thank you for this forum to share these stories. As I get older, I worry that our herstory and where and who we came from is being lost. Hopefully, projects like this will help to keep that from happening and keep our stories alive.

Queer in Northern Utah

When I was 22, I was reading Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult and I wished I was gay because I wanted a wife, I wanted a relationship like the one the women in the book had. I told this to a friend of mine and she said, “Maybe you’re gayer than you think?” Four months later, I’d left my male fiance and was dating my friend.

Take time to love yourself. Remember that. Always.

Well, time that i’ve felt that I am “different” for some, is pretty much equal to my age. And I am 27 years old. Growing up as a girl in small village where all my playmates were boys mostly my age and a bit older – it was hard. I used to look like a little boy for some time before I went to school, but a lot of kids gets their gender mixed up, right?
My parents, who actually are homophobic, used to “joke” around and asked me if I am going to marry a girl or a boy. I remember that I really-really hated that “joke”. Because I was really confused. Mostly because the equality. Boys always got awesome toys, they were allowed to go play whereever they want whenever they want, they were allowed to choose which girl they like, are they going to marry “love of their life” and who they are going to be when they grow up. I wanted those thing. Not to be boy, but to be equal. To choose my own path.
Today, I am single, I have no children. By my own choice. And I live in a place where people around me find that “my choice” is wierd and wrong. Because “standard” is marriage, kids and lower salary for same jobs that men have. “No boyfriend and with short hair -must be a lesbian” I hear people say…
But am I bi/gay/queer? Today I am human. I like other humans. I have felt and still feel love and attraction towards both men and women. If others find that it means that I have a label attached somewhere that says “bi”, then it is okay.
I have made my peace with it now. But it took me solid 25 years to make peace with .. myself. But to we really need to label eachother anything else but “human”?
I am open to love whatever shape or size it will arrive in my life. Maybe “it” is already here with me.
So, I came out to myself. I am human. No coming-out-party or post in social media, just me, on my own in my happy place. Accepting me.
Have I told my family and friends that I like /love both men and women?
Not to my family, because they figured it out before I did, right? (You know, “who you’re going to marry and stuff…) But I have never really had “the talk” or talked about my partners. Big family events – I have always attended alone. And since they are mostly homophobic, I do not feel the need to feed their hate. They are dear to me, but they don’t understand that love and attraction is between humans, not between genders. And that there is no “right” and “wrong” in love – we love our friends, families, pets, followers, fans… our partners in life. So I’m a “little rebel” in my family.
My closest friends know that I am open to love in any shape and size. I chose to tell them because they matter. Today they are my chosen family.
“Be who you are and say what you mean, because those who mind, do not matter and those who matter, do not mind” – I had that quote on my wall for years. (But I don’t know by who it is originally). It really helped me to accept myself.
I hope that there will be a time when girls and boys at all ages can say to their friends and families that they have found love of their life – same sex or not – and not be judged, or hated, or bullied, or even physically hurt, because believe it or not, making peace with yourself is challenging enough in todays society. And by hurting a human being, who is already struggling – it breaks and kills beautiful souls. Be kind. Start The Wave.

Dyke lesbian gay women

I realised that what I was feeling towards girls was attraction when I was 11 but was still convinced that I like guys. When I was twelve I started coming out to my friends as bi. There were all supportive (albeit some more than others) and I continued to identify as bi all through high school even though by my final year I was properly aware that I wasn’t attracted to men. I’m currently in my first at uni and am now out as a lesbian with two great new lesbian friends. Last night I came out to my dad who was super chill about it and I plan to come out to the rest of my family within the next two weeks. I’ve been out to everyone except family since I started high school but didn’t realise until I made gay friends that were out to everyone everyone that I realised that I was still restricted somehow. Even if it is just one family member, being out to my dad has let me breathe a little better. Being out really is freeing and I’ve never felt better.

Out really is the new in xx

Bisexual

I have always been a tomboy and ever since I was in elementary school I had crushes on girls and boys. I was the one who hopelessly fell in love with their best friend… twice. I never felt like it was necessary to “come out” to anyone around me. There was probably rumors and gossip around school but no one ever had the nerve to say something to my face and when my family finally put two and two together there was no discussion, just acceptance. And for that I consider myself lucky. I am glad to be a part of a community that loves so intensely and I’m happy to apart of the generation that is paving the way for younger people to live and love freely.

A special bean called the lezbean

When did I know?? I had inklings and moments of suspicion that I was not like other beans in my teens. I was never into the boy beans. But my upbringing was very Christian influenced, enveloped in values that made it really hard for me to grow. It took leaving home for university, going to Vancouver, to open my eyes. I met a lot of queer beans and attended ClexaCon it’s first two years. I started consuming a lot of queer media. Eventually, this gay bean accepted herself for who she was at the age of 21. It’s been two years now and I can honestly say nothing else has ever made me happier than loving women and accepting myself for it.
When did I come out? You don’t come out once in your life. You come out over and over and over again. The first person I told was my dad in the car, on the way to lunch. Then gradually, I told my friends- most of them had a hunch anyway. Everyone I’ve told has been seriously loving. But I’ve consciously kept some people in the dark, like my mother, her being the source of the religious influences in my life. Recently, I moved to Europe. I still go to church and only three of my friends know my sexual orientation there. The first, is a bisexual girl who came out to me drunkenly at a bar. Bless her. The second, is an intern at the church who I asked for advice because I had fallen for one of the girls in our community. I specifically asked, was a relationship with her realistic? And the third person, was the aforementioned girl. She was becoming my friend and if we are to talk about love, romantic relationships, and past experiences openly, then I wanted her to know the real me. She is in fact, not queer, I’ve established. That’s okay. There are other rainbow beans out there.
Being out and openly queer in my country in Europe is very much allowed, but not common, I’ve learned. I’m going to keep my orientation to myself from now on. I fear I’m not strong enough to take on the social obstacles that I might have to face, should my orientation be widely known in my social circles. That’s okay for now. My hope is that… I can live openly one day because I’m not good at pretending to be something I’m not. People like Dom inspire me, of course. I know, in turn, I’ve inspired others as well. If I can keep that going… this nice cycle of receiving and giving, I have a lot of hope that I can get through anything life will throw at me for being “different”.
– a lezbean

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.

Katy/Polyamorous Lesbian

To me, it seems like there are two stages to coming out: coming out to yourself and coming out to others. I was 13 when I thought I might be bi, 15 when I admitted to myself (after two years of self-flagellation) that I was a lesbian, and 16 when I came out to others. But it wasn’t until I was 20 that I could really call myself proud, or at least self-accepting. It was a long, rough journey, but definitely worthwhile.

I think it was that journey and maturity that made realizing I was polyamorous so much easier:

Me: “I like her…but I also like her…and it’s not that I like one more than the other…it’s that they’re equal, but different…”
My Brain: “Polyamory is a thing.”
Me: “…Huh.”
And that was that.

As much as people joke about gaydar, we do know our own. I’m lucky enough to know a lot of people who are out and proud, but every so often I meet someone who makes me think “this person is out to themselves, and they’ve accepted it, but they’re not quite ready to share it with the world yet.” And you know what? That’s ok. Coming out is a process, and it takes as long as it needs to. Coming out to myself and truly accepting my sexuality was the hardest part, but also the most rewarding. So whatever you feel and whomever you love, be honest and out to YOURSELF first and foremost. The rest will come in time.

And know that when you are ready to come out to others, you’ve got a rainbow of people ready to lift you up.