Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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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.

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.

LOUISE

OK and wow… I first came out in 1974…a long, long time ago, in a world so unregonizable and foreign. After this teenage romance died I scurried back into the closet. I tried so hard to make it in the straight world. Now please remember in the 1970s there was no positive role model. There was no Melissa Etheridge, no Ellen. Representation of our community was nil. If we were represented on TV or film we were either killed off violently or we were freaking physcotic. At the lowest point I did consider harm to myself. I was alone and frigjtened
As hard as I tried I could not fit in with my straight friends. There was no positive space in universitys. Then… Ta da… Life threw me a life line. 1978 I met a woman who saved, who changed my life. She taught me gay was good. Being a. Lesbian was just fine. I was free. I was exhilarated. I was finally happy with me. I was going to be OK. With a lighter heart I embraced who I was. I came out to family–go figure, they weren’t surprised. My parents, etc were and have been extremely supportive. 1980…i met my sweetheart and this year we celebrate our 40th anniversary. Whew. Each day, each year has been an exciting adventure. Watching the LGBTQ grow, flourish. So… Moral of the story… Be, true to yourself, be true to your heart. Most of all be kind to yourself… Support one another and celebrate our pride.

Lesbian

Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.

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!!

Cristina, Bisexual, scientist in the making, 24

I think I’ve known who I really am my whole life, but it wasn’t until I went to college that I really found my community, 4 out of 5 of my best friends identify as queer, so it’s very ease to feel comfortable around them. When I was 20 years old, I met the woman that would become my first love. It took me awhile to realize that I loved her, but as soon as I was sure of it, I decided to tell my parents and brothers. I actually couldn’t find the words to do it, so my dad step up and asked me If I was in love with her, so I told them I was. My brothers were really supportive and acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, but for my parents was a little difficult, especially because I wasn’t telling them that I only like women, but that I also still like men, that was really confusing for them. It has been almost 3 years since that day, and she is still my girlfriend, my parents and brothers love her, she knows almost my entirely family (In Chile, we are use to have like 6 uncles/aunties and like 10 cousins, so it’s a big deal), although, only my closest family knows she is my girlfriend even though I don’t hide it (in social media or real life), so that is the next step for me, to be more vocal and more awarely proud of who I am and who I love.

Feelings and Finding Footing

I came out on my private facebook page in October 2018, when I was 25. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever written.
I’d never been fully, openly truthful about who I am. While I had told a few close friends, I hadn’t told anyone else. As scared as I was to do it, it was time. I’m still scared of how it may affect my career (I’m also an actress), but I refuse to live in that fear forever.

I identify as a demisexual-lesbian. I’m not a huge fan of labels, but I use that to help others understand.

I grew up in a conservative family, in a conservative area. I’ve known since I was 11 years old. For many years I was hoping and praying it was a “phase”, repeatedly begging God to please help me; fix me.
It never worked.

I’ve been in and out of therapy since I was 12 years old. I developed panic disorder and depression.

In high school, I told a trusted friend. Not long after, what seemed like the entire school knew. I lost friends. I was blackmailed, harassed, bullied, humiliated, and was even physically threatened. My school did nothing. I didn’t want to live anymore.

I’ve grown tired of worrying about who knows and who doesn’t, worrying if people that I didn’t want to know found out. It’s too much to worry about. I know I will lose people that I care about over this, but I can’t change who I am. Like I’ve said, I’ve tried.

I’ve accepted who I am (even if I still don’t always like it.) If you can’t accept me and support me as I am, please respect me and refrain from trying to “change” me or “save” me.
If God be God, and really can do anything, that means that I can be changed. Then why haven’t I been? Maybe it’s because I’m SUPPOSED to be this way. Why? I don’t know. It is what it is; I am who I am.

I would hope that I deserve to love and be loved just as much as anyone else.

To those who stick by me; your support means more than you could ever possibly imagine. 10 years ago I thought no one ever would, so it still surprises and moves me every single time someone does.

I definitely still have more self-discovery to do, but I’m learning to be less afraid. I’ll get there.

Sending all the love and light to my rainbow family.

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

Love has a short life, there is no limit to oblivion… But that’s the value of love.

Since childhood. But the realization and acceptance of myself came at a more conscious age. Now I’m happy about it. I’ve been living with the person I love for a few years now and the wonderful thing is that for her I was a revelation of her sexuality and an opportunity to realize that the world is not only black and white. I live in Russia, a country that tolerance and understanding of such I am not particularly different, there is still slipping the foundations of the past, and that’s probably a minus, but there are many like me that gradually we change the attitude to us.

I’m a lesbian, not a unicorn

I always knew I was different but I didn’t know quite what it was. I remember my Mum asking me if I had ever had feelings for my (girl) friends – at the time I was too young to understand but I didn’t anyway, not to my friends…

Time went by and I grew attached to older female icons but always hid behind the trend at the time whether it was #teamJacob from twilight or some boyband. I followed the norm because like Dom, I was petrified to be different and stand out.

I was 14 when I admitted to myself that I like girls too but I didn’t tell anyone. I kept that burden with me until I went to college.

My Dad picked me up from college one day and it was about a 20 minute drive so I knew I had time. I had decided I was going to tell him. Me and my Dad had always had this unbreakable bond, it probably helped I was a little tomboy too but also had the dancer side to me, anyway, I felt safe to tell him.

I can’t describe the anxiety I had in that car. I’d take a breath ready to say something.. ANYTHING. and nothing would come out…

Finally, I started by asking him not to be disappointed in me – his answer was ‘it’s okay, just tell me.’ I simply responded with ‘What would you say if I told you I didn’t just like boys…?’ He simply replied with, ‘I wouldnt say anything.’ I thought he didn’t understand. I tried again by saying I liked girls. He turned to me and smiled and said “Amy, I know. Whoever you love is fine, it will never change my love for you, you are still my daughter no matter who your partner is.”

The relief was unreal… that weight I had carried round for so long just lifted and gone… I couldn’t believe I was so scared before!! The tears streamed down my face and my Dad stopped the car and held me so tightly and asked why I was crying. All I could say back was ‘relief’.

I knew after telling my Dad I could tell the rest of my family. I texted (yes texted) my Mum because I was quite worried of her reaction and she couldn’t have been more accepting!

My sister obviously made a joke but in a kind hearted way. I knew she was always going to love me no matter what.

And the rest is history, including the boy part 😂.

I am now a 23 year old British gay gal who is loving life as much as possible.

I have found so much comfort in following Dom and her journey and everything to do with Wynonna Earp and Wayhaught. So thank you for that!

Lots of Love,
Amy x