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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Still Human

I have known I was different since I was in 6th grade, I am now a freshman in their second semester of university.I always remember being the odd one out because I didn’t find people “hot”, I even dated a guy whom I thought of just as a friend simply because I didn’t want people ever questioning me. I live in a country where being myself is illegal, where people like me are shunned and bullied at school, and religion played a big role in that. The first person I came out to was my best friend, this was during spring break of senior year in high school,I was so nervous to tell her not because I thought she would hate me but because I knew how religious her family was after all her father taught my Religions(I’m not mentioning which religion because I don’t want people attacking any religion)class, even then I couldn’t say the words in person I sent her the longest message then I closed my phone and didn’t look at it for hours, she was actually pretty chill about it. The second person I came out to was to an openly bisexual student at my high school, I didn’t even know her that well but I trusted her and out of solidarity I came out. I came out to my sisters the summer before my first semester at university, my younger sister didn’t quite understand but she was chill, when I told my older sister she came out to me which was awesome.

Then flash forward to club showcase at my university my sister and I are walking around pointing out clubs we want to join then my sister grabs my hand and leads me to a table that has changed my life. My university had an LGBT+ club and I joined. Everyone was welcome in the club and I felt like I had found my home. No one ever asked me what I identified as we just all talked, laughed and accepted one another. I consider myself aspec and as someone who uses micro-labels to specific I identify as a demiromantic demisexual. When I came out to my club they were accepting even though the aspec community is a known, some of them didn’t know what asexual or aromantic meant but they were willing to learn. At that point I still identified as a female but I felt wrong in my own skin. Winter break I came out to my mother as demisexual and she told me that it wasn’t a real thing but she accepted me whatever that means so at that point I decided maybe I would not tell her anything ever again. I went online and found other people going through the same thing and decided I would do something. So at first I used ace bandages which is NOT recommended no one should do that. Then I finally ordered some binders and tried them I had never felt more myself. Now I was stuck in the situation of having to come out again but this time as non-binary. I started by telling m friends who were in the club then I just told the whole club. I tried to tell my sister but turns out not everyone in the community is inclusive and that just made me so sad. My mother got made when she found my binders and confiscated them luckily I have good friends who ordered more for me. I would leave my apartment go to a campus bathroom then put on a binder. Still my friends accepted they immediately used my pronouns they/them and corrected people who still used she’her they were considerate when I struggled to pick a new name for myself because I felt my birth name was not my own.

As someone who hasn’t seen people like myself on TV or online in general I thought I was messed up that there was something wrong with me. I found myself online with people who are so accepting, the ace and aro community were so willing to help me find myself, and I did. Maybe I’ll come out to my family maybe I won’t but I found my real family and they know me and accept me. So I’m writing this in hopes that it will help someone not feel alone, because as Dominique said out is the new in. I am OUT.

An Unraveling

I was in my teens when I started to “like” girls. But I almost immediately would dismiss the notion that I was gay because (a) I “also” liked boys and (b) I grew up in a culture where people, especially if they know you are gay, would refer to you using the local vernacular (“bakla”: Tagalog word referring to gay men and “tomboy”: referring to lesbian/masculine women). So you can say there was that “fear” of being referred to as something else other than who I really am. I “shelved” it in the next few years, I did not give it much thought. I focused on what my family wanted me to do which was to finish my studies. After finishing school, I got myself a job, started providing for my family, I was happily single. I still “liked” boys but would also “appreciate” girls.

Then at 23, I fell madly in love. With a woman. She and I have been friends a few years (I met her at work), but didn’t really think my friendship with her would evolve into anything romantic until she asked me out. The process of embracing this new reality for me, this positive, exhilarating change for me wasn’t hard – I understood that I love her, being near her made me feel alive. I absolutely knew at that moment that I am a lesbian and that there’s no turning back. What became clear to me was that I hesitated in the past because I haven’t found the person who would see through me and love me for who I am, love the best things about me and all the complications in between.

This brand new love gave me the feeling of being “liberated” and being “unstoppable” and couldn’t wait to tell the world about it. I spoke to my mom first, casually telling her that “she” wasn’t just my friend, she’s my girlfriend. The only thing my mom said to me that evening was: “I want for you to have a normal family.” My heart was shattered. And they (my mom and sister) did not speak much to me in the coming months. This was also the phase when I started to spend more time with my girlfriend, staying with her for most of the week and coming home only to quickly check on them or run other errands.

It wasn’t the loving who I want to love that was hard, it was the attempt to find someone who would understand why I need to pursue what my heart wants that was difficult. And when I couldn’t find the support I hoped to get at home, I spoke to my friends, bit by bit. They were supportive and were pretty nonchalant when I came out to them. This helped create a sense of “balance” in my life, knowing that I have people who’d always have my back no matter what. Eventually, my family learned to accept me, and in one family gathering, I overheard my mom talking to my uncle saying that “I am happy as long as I know my daughter is happy.”

Fast forward to today, April 5th, 2020, I am preparing to move to Los Angeles to finally be with my wife. I’ll be seeing her in ten days. We met nearly 4 years ago and decided to get married after a year of being together (took a leap of faith and it’s so darn worth it). It’s been a long and arduous process to get things fixed so we can permanently be in one place but it is finally happening.

This unraveling meant that I needed to stick to what I know is my true path, to what I know is anchored to my humanity. This unraveling meant that I needed to allow my atoms, the “thread” of my whole being to unfurl – without the guarantee that things will work out. This unraveling meant that I needed to simply let myself be in a state of an “undoing,” so that I can be my authentic self, so that I can walk through life with all the courage that I have in me, however the world responds to it. But it was in the “undoing” that I found the will to “do” what it takes to be who I am, and to have in my life what I genuinely desire to fill it with – the chance to love and be loved and the chance to be so utterly proud of how He made me.

Bisexual / soon to be trans

I know growing up was hard , not know what was wrong . I always had the feeling in my mind I wasn’t born the right gender. Wondering why I thought the way I did . But I never never understood it but growing up i lived in a fake Christian life style trying to make my family happy. As I got to my teen years got into my dating years only dated men . I noticed I started to look at women also but I had to tell myself it wasn’t right and went on with my life . But four years ago after I had my son I realized that I was attracted to both men and woman possibly trans after I got out a ever abuse relationship with my sons dad . But several years later I met a couple and became a poly relationship. They have accepted me and I have came out to them that I am bisexual and trans and they love me for me and I am finally happy !

Queer/Gay/femme

I always knew I liked girls. I think I was as young as six. But I also liked being a girl, and being girly. I never quite felt the same about boys, but this way of feeling was totally different from those around me, so I guess I thought I was just wrong. Maybe I just admired girls? Maybe that’s just being a feminist? Girl power? Haha. I was a 90s kids so Spice Girls, and Britney and Christina Aguilera were totally ok to fangal over but I felt I liked them a bit more than others. The slow realisation that I was a feminine lesbian took several years not because I was confused about me identifying as that, but cause I didn’t feel there was a place in the world for me, so again, I must be wrong. The word lesbian sounded harsh and pornographic I didn’t like it, the stereotype put me off and seemed quite negative and exclusive, when I attempted to step in to the community I wasn’t welcomed in for fear I was too girly to be gay I MUST be straight or just curious. I didn’t fit anywhere. I felt alone. I think I’ve only started to accept who I am in the last few years and now I’m nearly 30. Scary and sad it’s taken so long. But after 25 I guess the youthful angst washes away and you begin to feel comfortable in your own skin, whatever that may be. You accept that you’re not going anywhere so you may as well settle in for the long run. At the same time, life is short, so cut the crap and just get on with it! Queer representation in culture and media is also just starting to blossom. It’s now kinda cool to be gay, which seems a little superficial but at least a little room as been made for me to exist as MY authentic self. I AM A WOMAN WHO LIKES BEING A WOMAN AND LOVES WOMEN! Haha. I still don’t like the term lesbian, but at least now I love being me 🙂

A path of freedom

Hello everyone and thank you to Start the Wave for this wonderful initiative of testimonies. I wish to write this part of my journey in French by will of plurilingualism and to keep the soul of the content that I share with you today. I hope that this will be welcomed and accepted, and I thank you warmly in advance.

Discovering myself as a lesbian in the 2000s in Switzerland was not easy for me. I realized that I was different from others when I was 11-12 years old. I was insecure, lonely and isolated, and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t happy and full of life like everyone else my age. Something was wrong with me and it was impossible for me to fit in and feel comfortable with others because of the role I had to play to meet the social expectations of people my age at that time.

The realization of my homosexuality came one day when I decided not to go to school and pretend to be sick. That day, I finally understood the reasons for my discomfort. That moment was a real mental slap in the face. I didn’t expect it at all. I was watching television and came across a movie about a love story between two teenage girls. This movie shook me up, not because of the story, but because of what it awakened and enlightened in me. It made me realize that I was gay, that it was because of that that I felt so bad. Unfortunately for me at that time, I could not accept it and so I repressed these thoughts and desires deep inside me, which led me to isolate myself even more. It was impossible for me to accept that I was different. So I stayed that way for a few more years until I decided to become interested in the LBGTQ2IA+ world, but I didn’t dare to join it. Not having any “real” role models in my life, I had to discover this world in a virtual way, through series (thanks Buffy), movies and websites. This helped me, but not enough because I had no one to talk to, no one who could listen to me and accept my discomfort by making me understand that what I was going through was indeed complicated and difficult, but that it was perfectly normal, that I was perfectly normal. It is with time, patience and love towards myself that I finally managed to accept my difference.

It took me more than 10 years and several relationships to accept that being different is an absolutely wonderful thing. My coming-out happened slowly, in a discreet way, with the people who were dear to me at the time. However, it was at the age of 30 that I finally dared to say who I was and who I loved. I finally succeeded in sharing my difference, without any discomfort or uneasiness coming near me. My definition of myself became normal. I became proud and free.

It is thanks to the difficulties I experienced as a teenager that I was able to build myself and be who I am today. The difference is a sign of diversity, multiplicity and richness. It is the difference that makes the world so magical, so surprising and wonderful. Let us be different and assume our differences.

I am human and I love every living being on this Earth. Joy and happiness radiate from me every time I realize how lucky I am to share my short existence with such inspiring, grateful and living beings. Thank you to each of them for pushing me to be more myself, in coherence with my convictions and values and thank you to you for helping me to accept and respect others. Be yourself and love yourself. Thank you to Start the Wave for this wonderful project of liberation. Thank you to the Universe.

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

I am Queer

I first knew that I was attracted to girls in the 8th grade. I came out as bisexual to my best friend and she very accepting and so were all my other friends. And I know that it is common for people confused with their sexualities to initially come out as bi but I did cause I wanted to put the word that I like girls out there into the world. But I knew that I was still confused. It was factual that I liked girls, a lot, but I was still unsure if I was attracted to guys. So for a good year or so, I’m now a freshman in high school and the only people that know my sexuality are my closest friends, no family. But me being the extremely gay girl that I am I had a pride calendar which was really a Friends calendar that I painted rainbow. Anyway, my mom came in and saw it and talked to me. It was actually pretty funny cause I was simply trying to eat my cheesy Gordita crunch from Taco Bell. I knew I had nothing to be worried about because my mom is very woke. Her exact words were “Ive always wanted a gay daughter,” and we just started laughing. I was very nervous cause I wasn’t ready to come out so I said I was pansexual. And until a few weeks ago she thought I was until she tried to put me on birth control which requires a pap smear and once I learned what that was I came out again and told her that I was mainly attracted to girls and that she will not be seeing me with a guy. She’s the only person in my family that knows I’m gay. I planned on telling my grandma but sadly she passed away in October, which sent my anxiety and depression on high alert. But now at this very moment I am the happiest I’ve ever been and now I have a beautiful girlfriend. Only my friends know that we’re dating but, baby steps. And one day I will have the courage to tell my entire family, whether they accept me or not, that’s they’re decision and whatever happens happens.

Enjoying the journey – bisexual, she/her

I was 26 years old when I finally realized I was attracted to women. Looking back, I have absolutely no idea how I missed it before. I grew up in the southern United States where the idea of being gay isn’t well received. I was raised in the Mormon religion and being gay definitely didn’t align with those teachings so I think my brain worked overtime to justify my attractions as anything other than what they really were. So instead of just growing up thinking I was into guys and girls- I thought I was weird. I remember in high school I had a crush on one of the college girls who volunteered as one of my soccer coaches. She borrowed my hoodie once during a game and I didn’t want to wash it because it smelled like her. But instead of realizing (and enjoying) my crush, I felt like a creep. I would like to say that once I finally realized I was bisexual that it was liberating and exciting, it was actually scary. I didn’t know how to reconcile my religion with my sexuality. The thought of telling anyone and especially my family terrified me. I didn’t want to be judged or viewed differently. I spent a lot of time wishing we lived in a different world. Love should be celebrated in all of its forms and if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s loving people. It took a few years of me slowly coming out to close friends before I finally hit a point of not only acceptance of who I am, but also excitement and pride. I still haven’t come out to my family. I know that their religious beliefs will make it difficult for them and I’m waiting a bit longer to spare their feelings. But in the meantime, I’m learning to honor who I am and be as authentic as possible. I still have plenty of learning and growing to do on my journey, but I’m becoming less fearful and more excited about the future.

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.

Kind

I was 19 when I came out to my parents, I remember we were in the living room and I told them I was gay and my mom was like oh yeah I know and I was like how did you notice, and she was like well you’re pretty and you never bring a boy home lol and she was like but don’t worry we love you no matter what. It was a relief and an awesome experience.