Community Rainbow Waves

Living QUEER without FEAR. I’m Jes.

They say your childhood years should be the best years of your life–little to no responsibilities, innocent friendships and frequent laughter. My story, however, veered into less blissful territory.

I moved in with my father at age 6, which is where the memory of my childhood began. I was happy there. My father, then on his second marriage, seemed to finally be stable. My step mother seemed to be a wonderful woman who really stepped up to raise a growing little girl she had only just met.

A year later, my brother moved in, and my father and step mother tried to establish as much normalcy as possible. We spent time together, going to the beach and playing games. What we didn’t see was the complete unraveling of their marriage happening right before us. My parents efficiently and completely sheltered us from their inevitable demise.

After the divorce, we moved many times. Which of course resulted in different school systems, and different homes, the worst of which were without electricity. Eventually, my father made the decision to move us closer to his family halfway across the country, to the panhandle of Oklahoma. It was there, a year later, where he found the woman who would become his third wife. And as a result, our life settled.

At age 11, my whole world changed into daily physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, by people who were supposed to be safe. Let me be clear that my father has never, aside from punishment, abused or hurt me. But he also profoundly failed to protect me.

At 13, I realized what attraction meant, and recognized I wasn’t like the other girls in my small town. Each of them had boyfriends and crushes, while I secretly daydreamed about the girls I liked. Like many young gays, I tried to date boys to distract or convince my brain I was “normal.” I hid the pain of my abuse and my homosexuality from everyone. I wrestled and struggled with the abuse and my complicated differences for another year, until finally, I was removed from my father’s care, and placed with my grandparents.

It truly felt like a crushing weight was lifted off my chest. It felt like my life had just started. But also, I was broken. I was on a train of tragedy, headed straight for derailment with no idea how to slow myself down. So, in an attempt to have any excuse to run away or escape, I came out to my grandparents. Having already endured what I believed was the worst life could have dealt, I shared my secret with them. To my surprise, I didn’t need to run. They hugged me, loved me, and accepted every part of me. I was finally free. Free from abuse, and free from my prison of secrecy.

I am a queer woman.
I identify as a lesbian.
I have a beautiful family.
I am stronger now than my 13 year old self would ever believe I could be–and I am strong because of what I survived in my childhood.

-Jes.

#OutIsTheNewIn

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.

Bisexual

People label being anything but straight as abnormal. That is the environment i grew up in and continue to live in . I was just as attracted to women as i was to men. I thought that was the norm and was nothing out of the ordinary. So in a way there was no moment of realization as I always knew. I came out when i was twelve but my mum dismissed it due to us being a Pakistani Muslim household not to mention my father being in the military which just made things worse. After that my mum and I never had talked about my sexuality. It was simply unacceptable to her and the rest of my family. I am 17 now gonna turn 18 this year and i have given up on coming out to them so I’ve decided that only my friends and some family members will know which I’m fine with to be honest. I am hella proud to be a Pakistani , I am hella proud to be a Canadian and I’m hella proud to be bisexual. That I am certain will never change.

Well I don’t really know… if i’m gay or bisexual

When i was 13, i played truth or dare with some friends, and i had to kiss a girl. And then i knew it, because i feel it inside of me. I feel like … a big strenght inside me. And two years after, I had my first girlfriend, but we were hidding ourselves. And when i arrived to high school i discovered new peoples, some where gays, most of them were straight. But i wasn’t alone anymore. And today i’m still confused about who i’m attracted. My family doesn’t know about my sexuality, i’m just not ready to be out. My friends know that i love girls, and they’re fine with it.
But i had some period where being lost was very hard to live. Now i’m cool with it, i just took the time to accept the fact that i’m confused.
Clara (a french girl)

To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered

I was going to make up this fake encouraging story to help people in the closet see a story where the journey out isnt always painful and hard. But that’s not my truth. It’s time to stop being ashamed of my past and start being honest of my coming out. Or rather lack there of.

I was outed.

I was outed in a large scale, it could seem small to some but it felt like everything I knew was crashing down on me.

I’ve always been told I feel. I’m a feeler. I feel greatly and deeply. Everything goes in my ears and directly to my heart.

My parents always say they’re so proud I came out so young and not many can do such a thing, they deny their part in my “coming out”. I would do anything for love and affection to the point where I let them believe that’s how it went just for their praise. But this isn’t about them. It’s about me.

My story starts at 12 years old, in 7th grade at a new school. I had sunk so far into myself I’d pushed all my friends away because I thought this world didnt want me. I acted on those thoughts and tried to escape to no avail.

I spent a lot of time at home, watching shows and reading books because relating to the characters gave me a sense that I wasnt alone. Soon enough I’d stumbled upon a show that I’ll never forget, Wynonna Earp. Through that show I learned that girls could love other girls. I soon pondered if I’d felt those feelings aswell. Scared of my own thoughts I turned to my mother, “mom,” I’d said “I think I like girls. Romantically.”

She said I had time to figure it out.

The next thing I know I’m at my dads house he starts talking to me about what I told my mom, I cried myself to sleep that night, my trust so violated.

Soon all my siblings new, my dads new girlfriend too. I tried talking about it with a girl who I’d been best friends with the year before. Suddenly that popular girls at school knew everything. I was terrified in my deeply homophobic school.

That summer I went to a wedding away for a cousin of mine. We were having fun and talking at the rehearsal dinner out on the patio when my dad brought up the fact that I liked girls. Everyone looked at me as I immediately stood up and sprinted into the bushes, I didnt leave for hours sobbing even when it started pouring rain.

I’ve had more than just those experiences, and a few good ones after when I’d actually got to come out.

But even through all that pain, I came out stronger (no pun intended).

Now almost 3 years later I’m an out and proud lesbian, advocating for our community in the ways that I can. At 14 years old, I’ve planned and attended Queer Proms, Attend a Queer Youth Group, Had my own Billboard with a Queer relationship on it in Time Square, Planned a Queer Youth Trivia Night, started a Gender Sexuality Alliance, brought in a Queer Non Binary Public Speaker to educate my homophobic school how to have common decency, Helped all my friends come out, and so much more. I’m so proud of myself.

Ps. Dom I’m so proud of you!!

A proud lesbian

i knew i was a member of the lgbtqia + community when i was around 12. i had no idea what it meant to be gay or to like women. but i knew i was different. I knew that when i looked at girls i would get flutters in my stomach. and i knew that i would see myself with them. a few years later i found a webseries called carmilla. and all my sexual and emotional connections to woman came flooding out. after i finished the show i came out to the first person. it was rushed and i was scared and i had no idea if the way i felt was even real. but i told my friend ‘ i’m gay’ after months of fighting with myself i finally told someone. and it wasn’t the great relief you think of. it was horrible; i felt anxious and scared and i wanted to take it back. but i couldn’t. and after hearing that my friend supported me; it gave me hope. so the next few months i came out to more of my friends. but not yet my closest. as i knew it would be scary. but when i came out to my best friend at the time, she told me it was all ok and nothing i could say would change our friendship. so then i thought it would be ok to come out to my parents. i first came out to my dad on new years eve. i didn’t say the word gay because at the time labels scared me. but i told him i like girls. and he said he knew already and it wasn’t a big deal. and i was so happy. but i knew my mum was next, and i knew she was religious. and coming out to her would be a whole different experience. so when i saw her next i sat her down and told her i likes girls. she told me she already knew because my dad had told her. i was so heartbroken and hurt that my dad could out me when i wasn’t ready to be outed. i felt this hurt running through my body. and 3 years later i’m still not quite over him doing that. and my mum hasn’t been the best. she doesn’t like labelling me as as a lesbian. even though i told her i am comfortable with the label. it’s still a battle everyday to fully expect who i am but day by day it’s getting better and i am proud to call myself a lesbian after years of suppressing it. i am a lesbian.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Freakin Awesome

I’ve always knew I was not like other girls when I was little. Never really got into barbie dolls and all the girly things. I always liked what they boys liked. It wasn’t until high school that I realized that I liked girls and it really threw me off. At that time is when Prop 8 was getting introduced and people were fighting for their right to marry their partners. Something about seeing that and being devastated because that’s how I felt. One day I want to be married and have kids but people saw someone marrying someone of the same sex wrong, so I suppressed who I was. Then 2016 came along and I was really fighting my demons on who I was and who I loved. I looked myself in the mirror and finally came to terms that I love women and that I’m normal and like everyone else. I told my siblings and they support me 100%. I haven’t told my parents and probably never will but it is what it is. I don’t need that negativity from them. My name is Jenell and I’m proud to say that I’m a lesbian and I love women

#OutIsTheNewIn

Gay

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQIA+ when I was young, like- as young as 8. I just never knew what it all meant. My father being homophobic and being taught by him that it was wrong for like the same gender. I was confused. I first kissed a girl when I was around that age that led onto a lot more confusing thoughts and depression. I got diagnosed when I was 11. I moved far away from where my Dad lives and I started year 6. In year 7 I lost my virginity to a girl I don’t know the name of. I started smoking (cigarettes & weed) a lot. I came out to my Mum in Year 8 (last year) She just said okay. I was crying and she asked why I was crying. I couldn’t answer. My sister already knew and my brother wasn’t surprised. I cut my hair short earlier this year and when I told my Dads side of the family about they said ‘why?! You’ll look like a dyke!’ Which I just ignored. I am now in a relationship that I really care about and I’m not scared about being with her. Yeah, I still get bullied at School for being and openly gay 14 year old. But, at least I’m happy. Until the inevitable. She leaves. Which is what I’m most scared about right now. Everyone always leaves.

Lesbian out and proud finally

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

When I came across this website, I had no intention of posting my story but reading this particular paragraph written by Dominique P-C “milestones appear when I take the time to observe what does and does not bring me happiness and then having the courage to make the changes in my life to align that which isn’t working” it made me realize I haven’t been as happy as I could be so it was time to sit back, take inventory of my life and take the time to realign myself.
I first realized I was a lesbian when o was 12. I noticed I tended to gravitate toward one female friend at a time and found myself disappointed when they developed relationships with boys. I suppressed this for a long time. I thought I can’t be gay. While I was realizing my sexual orientation my parents got divorced. It became easier to suppress because both my parents got remarried. You can only imagine the fear I had coming out when my mom married a physically abusive man who said we couldn’t bring home an African American never mind being gay. My dad married a woman who was a faithful Roman Catholic and my father also started practicing faithfully at this time. My step mom to this day is very emotionally and mentally abusive person. As I sat through church every Sunday knowing this religion believed I should go to hell for being gay, you can only imagine the fear I had wanting to come out to them.
As high school went on, I did everything I could do to please my parents. I graduated 4th in my class, volunteered, worked, and played sports and did what I thought all parents wanted. I was met with a mom who didn’t show up for one game or award ceremony. She told me I would never get into college, let alone be a nurse. I ended up getting into the best college in the northeast of the US. This is when my sexuality as a lesbian crept back up. This is when I started my drug and alcohol endeavour to suppress those feelings. I thankfully retained things well and could pull off good work at the last minute. I did what my mom said I couldn’t do and graduated on the dean’s list and got my nursing degree and license.
I immediately left home after this to get an apartment with friend and my lesbian instincts were in high gear at this point. All my life I had something to prove to get acceptance from my parents. I had no one to prove anything to anymore and was left with my own feelings. I became an alcoholic. I functioned and went to work but that was the only time I was sober. It happened to be one of those drunken nights when I finally said out loud I am a lesbian. It felt like a weight had been lifted and I could finally breath.
When I told my parents they were receptive at first, but as time goes on the tune has changed. I ended up meeting the love of my life, who I am now proud to call my wife. I remember our first date we went to the beach and stayed there all night til 4am because we didn’t want to leave each other. I knew that night I wanted to be with her the rest of my life. She had her own struggles including being hospitalized with cystic fibrosis (a chronic lung conditon) and pancreatitis. Despite the obstacles with her illnesses, I knew that night I was all in. Hearing her stories while hospitalized including coding and being brought back to life was incredible. She is the strongest woman i have ever met to endure what she has had to endure. We habe spend weeks on the hospital at a time, to be home for a week to be back in the hospital for weeks at a time again. The past 5 years we have been lucky enough to have no hospitalizatons. In have spent an amazing 7 years with my wife. She is strong, resilient, honest, faithful, loving, caring, compassionate, beautiful, smart, and puts everyone else first despite what she has been through. She is extroidinary.
My family “accepted us” at first, to later be met with comments like if you were a boy I wouldn’t be comfortable with you being gay or you and your wife don’t bother me because you don’t show affection in front of us. It is sad to know I can’t show affection to my wife in front of my family. I am sick of hiding what makes me happy and it is my relationship with my wife.
My wife put up with a lot to be with me. She helped me deal with my alcoholism. When I first met her, I could suppress the alcoholism but it eventually came out roaring and my wife almost left me due to the decisions I made while drunk all the time besides work. I am proud to say I have been sober for a year and a half with her help. She has helped me help myself become a better, stronger, smarter, honest and more caring person. She helped me become a better nurse. I can’t thank her enough. I put in the work with lots of therapy and I did it for me and on my own, but couldn’t habe done it without her support.
It is sad to know I can’t be myself around my family. They are also big drinkers and now that I am sober, the one thing I had in common with them disappeared. I no longer fit in and they don’t understand I am a different but better person sober. It is sad to know I can’t love my wife openly and honestly without judgment or feeling the need to hide who I am.
This being said in the time of COVID 19 the safety of my wife has never been more important where she is immunocompromised with a lung condition. This made me realize I need to take a step back and look at the things I do have and not the things I don’t have. I have very loving in-laws who are now my family. My wife’s extended family also took me ad if I was one of their own. I may not have the support of my family, but I have a family with my wife’s family. They love me and us as a couple unconditionally. We live simple, a good over our heads, food in the cupboard, and money to do fun things now and then, but most importantly we have each other and this beautiful love we have created.
The long and short of it is, I am no longer letting my parents affect how I love my wife from this point forward thanks to this safe place to post and read other’s stories. I am going to love my wife openly and honestly from this point forward and not be afraid of who I am. I am a lesbian woman madly in love with the woman of my dreams, my soulmate and I am not going to let anyone dictate that. I am going to continue to provide care for my patients as a nurse and do my best to keep them safe and to keep my wife safe as I along with many others continue to fight COVID 19. I am going to be my true, sober authentic self. I am going to be brave and strong and not be afraid to love my wife openly, honestly, and freely despite what my parents or this world thinks. I spent too much time hiding and I am not hiding anymore. We only get so much time on this earth to love others and treat everyone the way they should be treated no matter religion, race, sexual orientation, etc. With my wife chronically ill, it became abundantly clear that the time on this earth is short and you don’t know how long you have with the love of your life, so that being said I and going forth loving my wife freely, openly and honestly for the rest of my life.