Community Rainbow Waves

Lili

A part of me always knew, since I was a child I had a class of attention for women, I always liked to be helpful with them, to take care of them, to be for them.
But I had never seen this kind of relationship until I was 13 – 14 years old, that’s when I realized that this society and my family would not receive me with open arms. And I struggled for years to stop being myself, it was a very difficult time, where I hated myself. I told myself that this was going to happen and that I wasn’t really a lesbian.
It was that time with that girl, that only by the touch of her hand with my hand I knew that this was not a stage that was totally wrong.
Then I met someone like me who lived her life freely, we became friends. I filled her with questions because I wanted to know why this had happened to me, was it normal? Why couldn’t I get the woman I liked out of my mind? Should I tell my parents?
I am grateful that she helped me to find myself and not wish for death, I know she went through her hell too.
And I also discovered that it was not just her and me but that a very large community was supporting and encouraging us to go and get these colors out.
Now I am proud of who I am, I have no doubt. I know it’s still hard for me, I have no support in my family. But that doesn’t stop me, if I have to walk alone, I will do it.
Thank you for this space, Dom, you also had a hand in finding out where I belong.

They call me a bisexual girl but I’d rather not label myself

Since I was a kid. It all started during my elementary days. I am avoiding one of my classmate because I am ashamed of her. Like she’s so beautiful and everyone likes her. Then one time our teacher assigned our permanent seating arrangement and I was shocked because she is my seatmate! We are awkward to each other then. So that was the time that I know to myself that I like girls and boys.

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

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

Abbey: One who’s capacity to love grows exponentially each day!

I always love deeply. Through my adolescence I loved so hard it hurt. I was truly confused at the difference between what I felt inside and what I saw all around. I even went as far as determining another type of love that I just knew existed to try to explain in a more “acceptable” manner what I was feeling for other people. This was when I was 15 and knew little of other cultures that describe a myriad of types of love. I dated many people of both genders pretty quietly for too many years. Then I met Molly. Our love was so luminous . So able to easily penetrate through all the bullshit that had been and that I had allowed to be built around me. And that was that. We loved each other. We came out to our families and friends. Years later I proposed, we are married and have a beautiful daughter and a son on the way. It is intense how my capacity to love grows exponentially each day. Allowing this love has allowed all the love.

Queer!

i first realized that i wasn’t quite straight when i was 12. it was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me, and i tried to suppress my feelings for a couple years before i realized that i couldn’t live my life like that.
a couple months before i turned 17, i decided to stop pretending and stop hiding. it was both the most daunting and most relieving thing i’d ever done. i was extremely lucky to have friends that graciously welcomed me into their arms, and i am so incredibly thankful for them.
people that i grew up with were forced to see that lgbtq+ do exist, and that their existence is normal. my coming out may have been uncomfortable and scary at the time, but now, i’m so proud of myself for being open and true to myself, as well as opening the eyes of people that had previously held negative ideas about the lgbtq+ community.
i’m here, i’m queer, and i fucking love people.

Still on that journey

Coming from a household we’re you’re put into boxes from a young age I struggled discovering who I was. I was either straight or gay there was no in between as my mother put it so kindly. My parents are the kind of parents that don’t mind gay people but as my mom and dad explained “it’s different when it’s your own kid”. Things like that are very hard to hear especially growing up being all confused as it is. I finally discovered that I was into boys and girls around the age of 16, but was still ashamed to say it out loud due to the idea that had been planted in my head as a child. Eventually it started eating at me and I went to a party and told my friends crying on the kitchen floor in my best friends arms. I had never felt support like it. I didn’t expect them to react like that. The next stage was my sister who I was pretty nervous to tell as we’d obviously grown up with the same parents so who knows what she would think about it all. I eventually plucked up the courage and told her, crying again – it seems to be a theme, and the outcome was pretty surreal. She told me she loved me no matter what, to not worry about mom and dad and that WE would handle it together. That made me feel a lot more confident and sure about myself. Next step is the parents. I don’t know when or how they will react but fingers crossed 🙂

Nicole (not Haught)

I am on my mid-30s, have been married to a man for 10 years, have 2 young kids and have just recently begun to come out. It’s in some ways a sad journey because it marks the end of my marriage to a truly amazing man who gave me the security and space to find myself, but it is not the end of my family. I feel an incredible sense of relief at finally being able to love and accept myself and live an honest life. My children will be better for having a happy mother, and they still have 2 loving parents who love them very much.
Announcing your divorce and your queerness all at once is quite a lot, but I have been so lucky to receive nothing but support from my friends and family.
I think part of what scared me for so long was being defined by my sexuality, but we are all so much more than that aren’t we? I am a mother, a friend, a damn successful businesswoman, a sister, a daughter…and I happen to also be a lesbian.

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

Non binary who loves life

When I was in 8th grade I went to a Catholic school. Dating period wasn’t something that was talked about and was just kinda wrong. After a sleep over with some good friends I was cuddled by a best friend. Something in that moment made me feel something that no guy had ever made me feel. In the following weeks I noticed little things about this girl that sat next to me. It exploded from there. 2 months after this someone outed me. No one talked to me I became a social out cast in an extremely small school.

My dad loved me from the start. He’s supported me so much he’s taken me to pride events and I love him for it. He isn’t exactly okay with the idea of non binary people. He just says they want attention but I don’t feel okay telling him that I identify as that. He loves me but it’s part of my life that I have to hide from him. But despite what he thinks I know how I am.
I am a strong human being who loves art and baking and I couldn’t be more greatful for a place to share my story.