Community Rainbow Waves

I like to identify as Gay / Lesbian

Growing up it wasn’t gay or lesbian. In my house it was “homosexual” and it certainly was not a topic of conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I was never told it was a bad thing. My church didn’t tell me I was going to hell. It just simply was not talked about and according to my Mom it was a mental illness that could be cured with therapy (although it had been removed from the DSM in 1973.) When I think back on it I probably started questioning my sexuality when I was about 12 or 13. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening. I just knew that any time I would talk about having a crush on a guy it felt forced. My budding teenage self didn’t have a clue.

When I first started questioning the only out Lesbians, I knew of was a teacher that used to work at the school where my Mom taught. My mom vilified her and talked about how much she disliked her. The other out lesbian I knew of was K.D. Lang. Again, my mind wasn’t thinking in terms of lesbian or gay. These were unfamiliar terms for me. I had heard them, but they almost felt dirty.

At the same time my brother who was of college age would come home talking about bands that were playing at his college, bands like Indigo Girls, REM, B-52s (yes, I am a Georgia girl.) My brother would also frequently talk about his friendship with Keith. I remember wanting to have a solid friendship like my brother had with Keith. I never had many friends growing up. I was very Introverted, still am, bordering on the clinical diagnosis of shy. My friend was whatever book I was reading at the time and the adventures it would show me.

I had been told by my Mom that it was normal for girls to be curious about other girls. Because my Mom said my feelings were normal, I never really felt like I was questioning anything. I just thought all girls thought like I did, and it was OK. Any time I felt weird about anything there was always an explanation. I would get embarrassed having to change out for gym because I was trying so hard to control where my eyes went. Mom said, “honey that’s normal everybody is embarrassed to change out for gym.” I would get “girl crushes” all the time. Mom said, “honey that’s normal girls get crushes on other girls all the time.” There was always an explanation for how I was feeling, and it was always “normal.”

When I was 19, I had just ended my first relationship. It was my first romantic relationship and the one and only relationship with a man. I was in college living at home. I was being exposed to different things. Indigo Girls where my favorite musicians followed up with Melissa Ethridge coming in at a close second. A friend of mine took me to a gay bar. I was more nervous about using an ID that did not belong to me to get in than I was to go to a gay bar. The ID wasn’t fake, it just wasn’t mine.

Once inside I remember seeing a young man with short blond hair. I only saw him from the back. But from the angle I saw he looked good. I remember commenting to my friend “to bad he is gay, he looks cute.” My friend said, “oh, that’s Chris, I’ll introduce you.” The introduction never happened. I remember being socially terrified and ran to the bathroom so I could hide. Later I found out that my friend had given Chris my phone number and told her I was interested. I was mortified both that I hid and that my friend had said I was interested in her. Chris never did call but I was secretly hoping she would.

As I am writing this and now looking back, clearly, I was a Lesbian. I was so “normal” I just hadn’t figured it out yet. I started to test the waters at this time with the idea of coming out and was desperately looking for someone who I could tell and would help me with my journey. I knew no one. I had always been told anything I needed to know I could learn from books. This was pre-internet. I couldn’t find any books about it. There was not gay/lesbian section in my local bookstore. I was a English major at the time so I used the reference section of my college library to find anything I could about being a lesbian. Most everything I found was related to men and it was some interesting at times and weird at times information. It just never told me what I wanted to know. I tried to come out to a person at my church at the time. I was told she was going through a divorce at the time and couldn’t deal with my problems too. It was probably the best.

Skip a few years ahead, I am now 21. Ellen has just come out. Now I know of three people who are out lesbians. My list was growing. The Internet was all the rage. If you were anybody, you had AOL and you would check out chat rooms to “meet” people outside of your bubble. This is where I ultimately met my first girlfriend. We had been “chatting” with each other for a couple of months before she said “hey, we should meet!” I knew she lived north of Atlanta. I had not seen a picture. I hadn’t even come out yet. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was interested the meet this person I seemed to know so intimately yet did not know at all. My over-protective mother had never allowed me to drive to Atlanta. I wasn’t sure how she would take this news. I knew there was no way I could tell her, “Mom, I’m driving to Atlanta to meet a girl that I think I might like. We have been talking on the computer for months. No, I don’t know what she looks like. Yes, I am going.” So, I told my Mom that I was going to Atlanta to visit my brother and Keith. Yes, they finally moved in together.

I wasn’t stupid, I knew if I was going to some random bookstore to meet someone, I had never seen I should probably tell someone. Just in case. I couldn’t tell my brother. I cornered Keith in their kitchen and said, “Before I tell you anything, I need to know that you and my brother are a couple.” Keith responded with calling out my brother’s name and saying, “get your ass in here and tell your sister that you are gay.” Learning this news opened so much more. It now meant that I had someone I could talk to. I “fessed up” and told them my plans. They were both very encouraging and told me to have fun.

It was on this occasion in October of 1998 that the woman I was supposed to meet kissed me. I had been kissed before but this time I understood what people meant when then said something was magical or they saw fireworks. I wish I could say that this first girlfriend and I fell in love and lived happily ever after. That is okay because eight years later when it was the right time for both of us, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 14 years.

A. Ward – Georgia

Sunflower in a Rainstorm

Being apart of the LGBTQ+ community is never something anyone could ever plan for. At first there is usually some form of confusion and shame. However, every single person has a beautiful story on how they have persevered through. Here is my story.

My coming out story started in the 7th grade with a girl who had beautiful blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. I knew at the time the feelings I had for her were “wrong” but there was always this gravitational pull toward her. Being that this wasn’t a “normal” feeling to have, I didn’t give into my urges because “girls are suppose to be with boys” and “everyone will think I am a freak.” Because of those constant reminders of social normalities, for the next few years I was on and off with boys. I never really had a dislike to boys but girls have always caught my eyes. All through middle school I was extremely confused with my own self identity. However, everything changed when I got to high school.

I have always been an athletic girl so I decided that I was going to go for the varsity basketball team. I successfully made the team as one of the 3 freshman players. At first was quite intimidating playing with 17 and 18 year olds, until I became close with Raquel. Raquel was another freshman who had always played a few grade levels up, therefore, she already knew the entire team. Trying to fit in I latched onto Raquel to get my in with the upperclassmen. However, the more I got to know Raquel, the more it opened my eyes about myself. Raquel has identified herself as a lesbian and has been out since she was in 5th grade. She has had multiple girlfriends and always talked about how experienced she was. Fascinated, I continued to hang out with her to learn more which allowed me to feel more like myself. I never before knew a real life lesbian.

In the beginning of our off season we decided to join the University of Florida camp tournament where we would stay in dorms and train with the woman’s basketball team. Unfortunately, Raquel picked to room with one of her upperclassman friends so I roomed with the other freshman. During the day, we had groups separated by position, which was great because Raquel and I played the same position. The camp was 4 days long and every day was a different activity that would completely drain all my energy but I got to be with Raquel. The only time that really sucked was night when I couldn’t see her. But I would wake up every morning excited to get another conversation in with her. On the last night, I was getting ready for bed when I got a text. It read “Meet me in my room in 5 minutes xx-R” Super excited I threw on my sweats and waited outside her room. My heart was racing when she opened the door. The room was pitch black and our other teammate was already sleeping. Raquel motioned me to get into her bed so we squeezed into the tight double bed. Silence surrounded us and Raquel was pulling me in closer to her body. My heart was thumping but my eyes stayed locked onto hers. After what felt like forever, Raquel finally whispered “I know what you are” and kissed me. Her lips were magical, nothing like I have ever felt with any boy. We continued holding each other and shared a few more kisses until it was time for me to sneak back into my room. When I got back to the room I finally knew. I have finally came out to myself.

Finding that ground of who you truly are is probably the most scariest things that anyone in the LGBTQ+ community has to go through. Not knowing who is going to accept you or understand you is a daunting feeling which can make you feel alone and isolated. But I just want you, the reader, to know that I understand and I accept you. A quote that has always stuck with me is this: “Not all those who wander are lost.” Be your own truth and know that you have an entire community behind you, supporting you. I love you and we are in this together. #StartTheWave

Bisexual

This isn’t really the most interesting coming out story in the world but I thought I’d contribute my story anyway.
I figured out that I was attracted to girls in the seventh grade. It wasn’t so much a “Oh shit! I like girls! I’m not straight!” as it was a “Oh, so the magnitude of my fixation on *insert any female actress* is NOT experienced by everyone”. However, I didn’t really process what that information meant until one of my classmates had offhandedly mentioned that she had a girlfriend and that she identified as a lesbian. Now don’t get me wrong, I knew that people could like someone of the same gender identity, but the meaning behind being queer held no weight to me until someone put a label onto it. It sort of clicked in a way that made me realize that maybe I was bisexual. Because of that realization, I did the obvious thing and took hundreds of “What is my sexuality?” quizzes and found solidarity and comfort among the dozens of famous or slightly relevant LGBTQ+ Youtube videos and Youtube series’ that were available in 2014.
Before my descent down the rabbit hole that is the numerous quality LGBTQ+ media available to the public, I decided to come out to one of my former best friends. She did not realize that was trying to come out to her, and I had to come out to her again 4 years later.
It took me 2 years after I had realized that I wasn’t straight to actually come out to someone, 1 year to feel comfortable with a label, and like 1 month to decide that- if someone asked me what my sexuality was- I would tell them the truth. So basically, it took 2 years for one of my other best friends to outright ask me if I was asexual before I could say that I was pan/bi. It took me a year after that to come out to my best friend since elementary school. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to hide my sexuality from her as it was that it wasn’t something I wanted to be defined by, nor was it the most important detail about me. Despite my resolve to just come out to her if I ended up liking someone who happened to have the same gender identity as me, I panic texted her. This was after a friend of ours asked me if I was straight while my best friend was sitting there with us. I ended up giving that friend a roundabout answer and then came out officially to my best friend at midnight over text.
Now, I am luck enough to not experience extreme homophobia directed at myself and I am extremely lucky to be, and have been, friends with open-minded and accepting people, so I didn’t really consciously feel internalized homophobia/biphobia until years after I realized that I was indeed NOT straight. I didn’t feel that way until I was asked by my mom to warn her if I happened to be attracted to a girl or, better yet, just not like girls at all. Because of that, I grew conscious of the underlying yet ever-present homophobia found in my relative’s uninformed opinions about the LBGTQ+ community. I wasn’t afraid that my family would disown me or stop loving me, but I became afraid that I would have to compromise who I am in order not be seen as an outlier by my aunts and uncles. Honestly, I was more afraid because I wasn’t sure how my parents would react. I ended up hiding who I am from both my parents and my older sister, who I knew didn’t care and didn’t hold the same “traditionalist” values that my extended family and my parents did. I was too afraid that, if I told her, my parents and extended family would somehow find out. I made the same resolve that I had made before with my elementary school best friend: I would just casually introduce my girlfriend to her when I eventually started to actually date girls (or people in general). That, however, did not happen. Instead, I came out to her when she asked me how I identified while we were watching Bon Appetit Youtube videos.
These aren’t the only coming out stories that I have, and I definitely didn’t elaborate on every detail, but these were the moments that actually held some importance to me. Each time I came out to someone that held/holds an extreme amount of importance to my life, none of it went as planned. I had to take a leap of faith and trust that I was loved enough that, a detail about who I was, wasn’t going to change how my friends and family viewed me. I’m still not out to the rest of my family, but knowing that I didn’t have anything to hide from my sister lifted a weight I didn’t even know I had on me. Even without me coming out, my parents have started to become more welcome to the idea that girls like girls and that’s okay.
Just having even one person to talk to, who knew I liked girls, helped me to become even more comfortable with my sexuality. Without the positive LGBTQ+ representation in the media, I would have felt alone before I even knew what I identified as. I was okay with my sexuality until I wasn’t, but, even then, I had enough support to continue to take leaps of faith.
I don’t think there’s really a right way to come out, nor do I know when the right time to come out is. However, I do think that having even one person (whether it’s someone online or someone you know in real life) know and support you for who you are is by far the most freeing thing in the world.
I’m out and proud to the people that I get to choose to include in my life, and I am so excited to see the world continually progress and become a more accepting place (with better LGBTQ+ and PoC representation in mainstream media)

I am a 25 year old Gay Woman – content warning: this coming out story contains discussion of an abusive relationship

As a teenager I always thought that something was amiss as I used to enjoy the company more of women than I did men. I could have a laugh more with guys but with women I connected more with them and was always so shy whenever someone would speak to me. I pushed my feelings down as I thought I was pretty young and just concentrated on my schoolwork. It wasn’t until I started football (I live in England) when I was 14 and was immediately drawn to one of the girls on my team. We used to speak constantly outside of football and always be at each other’s houses. The feelings grew more and more and when I couldn’t see them, I used to wonder why I would get so upset about it. It wasn’t until a few months after playing football that I realised I liked her more than a friend and lucky for me she felt the exact same. But because we were so young, we wanted to keep it to ourselves, from our families and our friends. At first, I was completely ok with that as I was coming to terms with it myself and was getting used to being with a woman for the first time. After 2 years of being a couple in secret I felt I was ready to tell my family and friends as everyone always used to ask me if things were what they seemed, but I used to deny them. But she still didn’t want anyone to know and I was in a different place to her as to how I felt, and this caused a massive problem for us both to the point she no longer wanted to be with me. This break my heart, but it also made me stronger as I had the courage to tell a select few of my closest friends what had been happening. I cried to the point the literally just kept hugging me saying everything was going to be fine and that they accepted me for who I was. It wasn’t until a year or 2 after this that I came out to my parents, in the meantime I was dating and got used to this new normal for me. I had a bad relationship after who was controlling and turned me into a person that wasn’t me. This was when me coming out to my parents happened. I was friends with two people who had recently split up with each other, one of them was with me and other came round to give them something of theirs (I was the one to open the door) as I came back in my dad was sat next to my friend and he asked me if that was my girlfriend (trying to have a joke) I replied with no. He then asked me if I was actually gay after asking me a million times previously and me denying each one, and without any hesitation or thought process I literally said yes. He thought I was joking at first and I said that no I actually am. My sisters came running downstairs at this point with pure excitement because I had finally admitted that I was gay. Everyone was so supportive and the only things my parents said to me was they were disappointed I never told them before. It was such a huge relief to have such a positive reaction. All of my family followed with me coming out to them and one by one they all said they already knew I was but was waiting for me to say something. After this I was relieved, I could finally be myself and express myself in a way I have always wanted. I was able to talk about things more and not have to hide any part of me from the world. It hasn’t always been plain sailing as my previous partner who I was with for three years, I was blind to see was abusive in many forms. Mentally and towards the end was physical. Still till this day has had lasting effects of me having to go through countless therapies to get myself on track and recover from having anxiety and depression ever since. I am finally on the mend and I am now with my amazing partner who everyday helps me heal and encourages me to go for my goals that I set out for myself. She continues show and give me the love I have always wanted. Its been 11 years since I first knew I was gay and I’ve never been happier.

An Empowered Gay Woman

Coming out, for me, never really ends. I come out to new friends, to family, to coworkers, to the woman at the grocer who asks if I’m cooking for my boyfriend, to the stadium of people watching the “kiss cam” and to the man politely asking for my number at a crowded pub. Coming out is choosing to be honest, every day, and battling the fear of others’ responses.

I used to think that coming out was selfish, as if telling someone that I am attracted to women would only benefit me. It’s taken an immense amount of growth and education to believe in the power that standing together provides. Knowing the strength that I have now, I wish I had had faith in others sooner.

I grew up in a household that did not discuss sexuality in any form. We didn’t talk about relationships, or intimacy, and especially not about sex. Being the only girl, the gender expectations were enough to overwhelm me, let alone the differences I noticed in myself at a young age. My religious views told me homosexuality was a sin, and was best left unspoken.

When my friends began to develop crushes or dream of their perfect futures with a husband on a white ranch with kids and dogs, I failed to share that. I wasn’t sure what my future would hold, but I knew I didn’t want the same things. At 10 years old, I knew something about me was different.

When it came time to start dating, I once again felt no connection to the boys around me. I loved being around my friends, but I felt different from them. That scared the shit out of me. I thought: maybe I just didn’t understand. I had never been in love, never shared myself with someone, never had sex– so how did I know for sure?

And so I began dating my best friend. He made me laugh, was kind and generous, was adored by my family, and truly respected me. We made a great couple, and an even better team. For a while, I could forget my attraction towards women. Everyone was happy, and this life didn’t seem so bad.

My best friend knew me better than that, though. He sat down with me one day and asked if this was what I truly wanted. He said that I didn’t seem fulfilled, that if there was something I was missing in my life, I should go for it. It wasn’t until a year later and a few more attempts at heterosexual relationships that I finally understood.

The process was hard. I couldn’t state my sexuality in the mirror to myself, let alone to other people, and even less so to those who had known me my entire life. I spent hours crying to myself, journalling dreams that wouldn’t come true, and praying that I could be normal.

The problem with that was that I was normal. I am normal. Being queer does not make me abnormal.

I finally told a friend, and her acceptance encouraged more honesty. I needed a calm and quiet place for those closest to me, where I could tell my story and they could ask questions. I slowly began to feel more comfortable in my own skin, and began to rely on the support for this immensely powerful community. A community full of love and trust.

My family’s response is still difficult to handle today. They are scared for me, religiously and socially. I will always love them, but I take comfort in the encouragement I have received from others and hope one day they will share that same support.

Much like the rainbow that symbolizes the queer community, coming out can be an upward battle sometimes. There are times you may be scared shitless, and there are unfortunate times when people do not understand. But, there is growing education and knowledge to be supported and protected. With kindness, and with love, there will come a time when each person can love and be loved for who they are. And much more than there are negative responses, there are amazing and rewarding experiences, too.

Life surprises you.

The love of my life sits beside me, reading, hair a mess and glasses on, curled up under her favorite blanket and music in the background. I can look at her with no doubt in my mind that this is where I am meant to be. The discomfort and unrest that I felt as a child has settled.

I have found a home with a coalition of courageous, charitable, passionate people.

I am a gay woman.

I am out. I am proud. I stand by every human on their journey and hope that it is known how much they are loved.

I suppose my coming out story will never truly end. There will always be someone to tell, a situation that assumes I am straight. But I have faith that kindness prevails, and that each of us can be celebrated for our differences, rather than scared of them.

Each of us deserves love. And I can promise, if you give yourself to this community, they will give themselves to you, too.

Out Truly Is The New In.

Lula

i never really questioned my sexuality, i just assumed i was straight, but was always disgusted at the thought of dating a boy and i never understood why. near the end of year 9, this boy liked me , and i thought he was funny but couldn’t establish the difference between whether it was a crush or a friendship. all of my friends told me that i had a crush on him and that i liked him, so i just kinda went with it- nothing happened though because i didn’t want it to. that set me back quite a bit. in the summer holidays at the end of year 9, i came to terms with my sexuality through adelaide kane, rachel skarsten, and sarah paulson and the shows they were in. i made an instagram editing account and it was my happy place, but i still didn’t feel free with my sexuality on there as i was afraid of being judged. i then watched wynonna earp in the december of 2018 (the same year). i fell in love with wayhaught and waverly earp. i then made a group of internet friends through the fan base who quickly became my second family and supported me no matter what. through earpers and the cast members, i finally felt like i could be myself and built up the courage to come out to 3 of my friends from school. over the past year and a bit, i have gradually come out to more and more of my closest friends, the majority also happening to have later come out to me as well (i guess gays attract lmao). i suppose i should identify as a lesbian because i am a woman who solely likes women, but hearing that word still makes me uncomfortable for some reason, so i prefer to just tell people i’m gay. i’m still nowhere near ready to come out to my family, due to the fact that my dad, auntie, and all my grandparents would probably disown me, but i am happy with myself and my sexuality.

Sophie, 19, Queer and finally proud.

I always knew something was a little different about me since I was a kid. It always felt like people just didn’t get me. It wasn’t until I was 13, when I realised I liked girls. At first I was happy I had finally figured out what was different about me, I could put a name to it. But then I started to notice how others responded to my identity, with judgement, confusion and often disbelieve, I become scared and decided to hide who I am. It wasn’t until I turned 16 that I decided I couldn’t hide such a key part of myself any longer and began to accept myself by unlearning the negative perception I had gained. After a lot of introspection, I embraced my queerness and started to tell friends and even family. To my surprise everyone I’ve told so far has been accepting and celebrates who I am. I want to spread this message to others who may not be out yet. Never let a few unaccepting people stop you from being who you are, because you are enough.

Fiona

My journey began when I was 16. I found myself being completely infatuated with a girl at school. I had huge butterflies in my stomach every time I saw her. I found myself checking women and freaking out that I was doing this. When I was 17, things were changing again because I was starting to have fantasies involving women. Again, I was panicking because I didn’t want to be gay. At 18, I accepted myself as a lesbian but I was still scared of coming out to my friends and family.

Moving on to being now 22 years old, I went to London for a working holiday and to meet a woman (a fellow South African) who I had been chatting with online for a long time.

While I was there, I spent a lot of time with my now ex-girlfriend and we went to a club together called Heaven. I saw people being who they are, not being scared. That was the moment that I felt I have to come out to my family.

I felt that I had to tell my mom that I am lesbian and did so via email while I was in London.
I spoke to my Mom again when I got back from London. She was OK about as long as I was happy but also curious to know if I wanted to get married and have children.

(This was when same sex marriage was not legal yet in South Africa)

My sister was surprised and I never told my Dad as he was homophobic.

It’s great to be open and free to be who I am.

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

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.