Community Rainbow Waves

ANONYMOUS

Ever since I started high school right through near to the end I never came to terms that I liked girls I tried to push it away and not think about it because I was scared of what others thought about me. In this society many people don’t agree with LGBT+Q and I’ve seen how people are some people are loving and accepting but some aren’t which we don’t have the power to change their minds everyone has the own opinions. But back to coming out I always liked this girl and her smile was just wow I was speechless. I didn’t want people knowing about me being bisexual so because these feeling became so strong for her I distanced my self from her so I’d stop loving her but because I did that they became even more powerful all I ever thought about was her. I came out not long ago and all my family and friends are accepting well the ones I told. But since coming I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been less anxiety and the girl I always had a crush on isn’t just my best friend but my girlfriend now and I’m proud to call her that , I’m proud to walk down the street and hold her hand , kiss and hug her and gives her compliments without caring what others think. This is me and I’m proud of it my confidence was never the best but now it is thanks to thinking more positive and for people being accepting and showing me it’s ok because it is ok to be you.

Peacefully free.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Ana and I am 32 years old.
My coming out story started when I was 12, I was a kid. In a world that at that time did not understand and we’re very close minded. I am the oldest of 9 and also a Mexican, my family.. Well they are your topical Mexican family. Strict and very in tuned with their old ways and values. At 12 I figured something was “wrong” with me. “Wrong”.. It’s crazy how much we are made to believe that there is something ” wrong” with us. Anyways, I had a girl best friend in school that I started having weird feelings for. I didn’t understand and didn’t know who to even talk to. I mean, what do I even say?. What if they look at me weird or something? These were scary times. I had an adult figure in my life that I trusted so much. When I couldn’t understand, I went to this person and told them what was going on. What I was feeling. This person convinced me to talk to my parents. So, I did. And man oh man did I regret it. My first thought was to “come out” to my mom. I mean, who actually goes to their dad first, right? Haha. After, I believe 20 minutes of beating around the bush, I told her I thought I was bisexual. That I was having feelings I couldn’t understand. My mom replied with, “it’s a phase, it will pass”. She made feel like, like my feelings weren’t valid. That things I felt weren’t relevant because things were just a phase. I agreed with her and completely hid who I was until I was 14.
At this point, feelings were strong. Things just couldn’t be hid anymore. I had a talk with my, then best friend, and it took me one week to come out. I was so scared to get told it was a phase, to get my feelings shut down. Or to simply be looked like I was weird . But the most amazing, beautiful and incredible thing happened. She hugged me and said, ” no matter who you are, I love you. You are Ana to me. Today, tomorrow, next month. No matter what you will be Ana”. And that my friends, that is when I realized that life was more than what I thought. That all people thought different. And that I, I was going to be okay, no matter what happened. I felt so free, I felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could finally stand tall and breathe. Those simple words that to her might have not meant anything, was the fuel I needed, the strength to be me. I then proceeded to come out to a few other friends and unfortunately, the word spread to my parents. My very old fashion parents. One day I came home and they were on the table sitting down, they wouldn’t look at me, they looked upset. You know, that look you see when your parents are super mad at you and you feel the colour disappear from your face. I knew, I don’t know how but I knew. I sat down. And through a lecture about Adam, Eve, the Bible, and our values. I was forced to come out, again. After that, I went years of ” praying the gay away”. I went to church everyday, I was made to pray everyday. I read the Bible till I knew the pages down to the last wrinkle. I am Catholic, rosaries is what we do. I learned how to pray it in different ways, for different reasons. But through it all, my best friends words replayed over and over in my head. And I when I felt like I didn’t have no more fight in me I would ask myself. “Who is Ana?” . And my answer to myself was always the same “I am Ana, and I am free”. But unfortunately, at 16 I gave in to my deepest darkest demons and tried to commit suicide. I bought some pills from a person in school that sold drugs. I went to the bathroom. And I took, every single one. Next thing I know I was in the hospital, getting my stomach pumped with nurses and doctors yelling but everything was so faint. After it all, my dad said I left him no choice and he locked me up in a mental institution for months. With no visitors but him, no communication with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts. And just when I was losing my mind, a staff member said to me. “You know there is nothing wrong with you right?, I understand you. I have been you and all I can say is, it gets better.” Then the words from my best friend those years ago just slapped me like my mother when I stepped out of line and then I remembered. “I am Ana, and I am free!”. In my time there I found myself. I had time to think, to figure myself out. I then knew I wasn’t bisexual. I was a lesbian. It was so good to say it out loud to myself and anyone who would listen. Many many things happened after that. Many fights, I got kicked out of my parents home but I said, enough. No one will tell me who I can and can’t be. And I fought for myself, even when everyone gave me their backs. I got married with a woman and boy was that a trip. Then I got divorced over domestic violence and luckily my parents allowed me to be back home till I got back on my feet. Anyways I’m getting side tracked here sorry, haha. My point is, I know coming out is not always a pleasant story as some others. It’s full of emotions, confusion, theories of how it will be. So many things happen with different outcomes, some we see coming some we don’t. I don’t hold a grudge against my parents. I don’t hate them, hate is a strong word. I understand that there will always be people like them. People that will ask why? That will say ” you’re confused” or “it’s a phase”. But people like that is why I fight to be me. If someone asks me why I don’t date guys I ask them, well why don’t you date the same gender as you. Their answer is usually the same, silence. I fight To prove to them that this is not a phase. This is me. This is Ana, and I am Free..

Anna, 28, Germany

My Coming Out was 2 years ago.

I noticed early that I not only liked boys, but also felt drawn to the girls. I quickly put those thoughts aside because I thought I was confused. I was in the middle of puberty.

The thoughts always came out over the years. But I still thought I was confused.

This was until I was 26 years old. Then I met her. She unexpectedly showed me what it means to be loved. She gave me love, security and acceptance. She gave me all of these things without expecting anything in return. She showed me what I wanted. WOMEN

My parents had probably suspected this longer. One day I was visiting them and before I could say something they asked me: “when do we get to know her?”

My parents and siblings have no problems with it. They want me to be me. I don’t need to pretend anymore. I live my life. This acceptance and appreciation of my family gives me support and strength for the future. Because I know I can always rely on them …

“Love is love. It doesn’t matter whether you are into a man or a woman. The main thing is that you are loved and accepted. And you feel good. We don’t want more.” This is a statement from my parents.

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.

My story, Flora

Looking back I think I always asked myself about my sexuality.

As soon as in primary school, I remember having a crush on a classmate. Of course at the time, having no idea what it meant and no representation to lean on, I just thought maybe I just wanted her to be my friend, or maybe I wanted to be her, I was confused, kept it a secret and repressed it.

Later, in middle school and high school, my friends started dating, and I felt unmoved by that but at the same time I started asking myself loads of questions. Why wasn’t I attracted to boys the way they were? I craved a relationship though, and when the chance presented I had my first time with a man I met during a trip. I remember feeling very bad after the did. Don’t take me wrong, I wanted it to happened, I thought the guy looked nice and he was very gentle and respectful. But it didn’t feel right, and I wasn’t expecting that.

I had my first “serious” boyfriend soon after. I was in my early 20s. We could spend hours talking, we really got along. But then again the intimate parts seemed off to me. I remember asking myself more and more questions, and being torn apart between the fact that I wanted to be like “everyone” and have a boyfriend, and the fact that deep down I started to feel sure that I wasn’t attracted to men. But I kept finding excuses, maybe he just wasn’t “the one”.

I started to find lesbian representation on TV shows. It became almost an obsession at times. I spent a monstrous amount of time watching and rewatching some scenes, fanvids, reading content on forums etc. I can’t explain it. I had personal issues yes, but a loving and open family nonetheless and the best friends someone could ask for. But I kept all my questioning to myself and spent hundred of hours on the digital world were I felt safe, like I belong.

A few years after that, I met the man who would become my second and last boyfriend. He was the best : funny, ecologically responsible, handsome, smart and so, so nice. But once again it didn’t “click”. I adored him but I knew deep down that I could never love him. After some time, I couldn’t take it anymore and got separated. I hurt him and it was for me so awful and relieving at the same time.

A couple of months after that, I came out as a lesbian to my friends and family. They were all very accepting.

What took me so long I then asked myself, why did I just lost years trying to build relationships with men when I knew very well I was attracted to women? I had known all along that my loved ones wouldn’t reject me. I was the one that rejected me. Because I wanted to be like “everyone”. Because I was scared of what other people could think. Because I felt ashamed. That’s what internalized homophobia and lack of LGBT+ representation as a kid did to me. A lack of courage also maybe.

Sure, nowadays we have more representation in movies and so on. But I feel we don’t have enough. Not because I want to make everything “gay” like some criticize sometimes – I realize that sadly we’re a minority, but because I wish for all the kids out there to grow up in a world where it’s “normal” to be LGBT+, and never feel like they’re abnormal or alone. I want sexuality to become a non-question, I want to stop feeling uncomfortable when someone I don’t know assume I have a boyfriend as if it is the only option I have.

I understand why this issue seems so insignificant for some. Because there are so many problems in the world right now. And I agree with that, but I would say let’s take one fight at a time, and it’s much more important than it seems.

I’m in my late 20s now. I’ve only had one longtime girlfriend who showed me sex can and should feel good. I don’t have the happiest love life right now but it feels so good to accept my preferences and who I am.

That’s my story. Make of that what you will.

Life’s a lot of fun if you look on the bright side.

Hi, my name is Amélie but my friends call me Waméliz (don’t try to understand).
I’m 18 years old.
And sorry if my English is disastrous because I’m French.
Anyway, since primary school my thing has always been to hang out with boys, to play at fights, to dress up as a pirate for fancy dress birthday parties, to hate dresses, tights, ballerinas etc…
For a long time I was regularly at my grandparents’ house.
And like all self-respecting old people, I had the right to a classical education: a girl doesn’t dress like a boy, two girls kissing “my gods what a horror” and the racist thought…
As a child I didn’t understand all that.
I just wanted to put on jeans and a T-shirt and go have fun with my friends.

As time went by, I started to feminize myself more and more, imitating other girls my age, having boyfriends and hanging out with girls only.

It wasn’t until I was in 9th grade that I realized that I liked girls.
There was a new girl in our class, at the time I didn’t pay too much attention to her.
But one day she had a lot of trouble carrying her bag because as she was handicapped sometimes her knee joints got blocked.

So I helped her carry her bag home, and I continued to help her like this every night after school.
She was very much on my mind and I loved spending time with her.
In college, being gay wasn’t very well accepted, even though harassment had gotten under my skin, so when I imagined coming out, I didn’t want to take any chances.
So I decided to keep my thoughts to myself (something that should never be done, it seems).
But I did tell my loved ones about it.
Starting with my mother, I told her about this girl with whom I shared the road every night.
To tell her in the final sentence “I think I am in love with her”.
And my mother replied, “I thought so, my daughter”.
Yes, well, there are better things, but at least it went well.
Then it was my father’s turn, as there is not much communication with him, I wanted to tell him quickly.
That is to say, just before he went to sleep, “Good night daddy, and I also wanted to tell you that I am in love with a girl”.

Might as well tell you that he didn’t have a very good night, the next day he told me that I didn’t have sex with a boy I couldn’t know who I really loved, I asked him if he had slept with boys to find out if he really loved my mother but he took it the wrong way and ended the conversation.

Months went by and I decided to tell the girl how I felt.
To make a long story short, she told me she didn’t feel the same way and stopped seeing each other (no my life is not a TV show), so what can I say except unicorn poop?
When I arrived in high school, that’s when I could fully assume who I am, a PANSEXUAL girl who wants to be friends with everyone and who loves people big, small, white, black, yellow, green, multicolored etc…
My last two coming-out dates were this year.
One to my friends who took it very well except for one who asked me if I ever fell in love with an animal and I said “yes of course be careful with your dog the next time I come to your place”.

And the last one to my grandmother, she must have had at least three heart attacks but she finally accepted it.

I’m proud to be part of the LGBTQ2SZETRWU community… there you go.

Proud Lesbian

I came out when I was 16. I was so afraid to tell my mom who are born in the 1940’s but she took it really well and said as long as I’m happy and loved that’s all that matters.

My brother took it good as well and said all he wants for me is a girl that loves me the same way I love her.

My friends at the time is a whole other story. They rejected me started to bully me and hang me out for the whole school. Waited for me after school ended just to beat me down.

It took me a lot of years to finally find some good friends that supported me for who I am. And when you find them don’t let them go. They mean everything for me and we’ve been friends now for over 20 years.

The First Gay of the Rest of my Life

Growing up I always felt different.

This different-ness kept me from having authentic and deep relationships for most of my adolescent and young adult life, before I was even aware of what my “difference” was. I was never fully myself – I had a deep seeded anxiety that I was going to somehow let everyone know this thing that I didn’t even know about myself yet.

When I was 16 I had my first real kiss. I say real because I had kissed a handful of guys and felt a gut-wrenching anxiety before during and after each time. I remember wondering if that’s what the feeling all my friends talked about loving – so why didn’t I love it?

Well my first kiss at 16 told me why. I magically made a new best friend. She somehow rose in the rankings effortlessly in the 3 short weeks that I had known her, getting that coveted “best friend” position. Thinking back on the whole thing makes me smile because as horrifying as it was back then, it’s kinda cute to think about little gay me and how obvious it all was.

At this point I was having fleeting moments of feelings when our hands would touch, or she would lay her head on my shoulder, or she seemed to seek me out the same way I sought her out. These fleeting moments manifested as one of those jolts you get right after you’ve done something embarrassing, or you are carrying a laundry basket down a flight of stairs and think there’s one more stair beneath you but your foot hits the ground too quick. That split-second “oh f***” moment followed by that FULL body halo of heat that disappears just as quickly as it came.

Despite all the signs that were there – I continued to lie to myself and think that these touchy moments and our obsessive need to talk and be around one another and the phone bills from the literal 17,000 texts a month we sent (sorry dad… Also, did I even sleep? ALSO, yes it was long ago enough that you had to pay for texts past a certain amount. I’m showing my age – I digress.) were just the signs of best friendship. So one night she slept over. And as bffs do, we obviously went to bed forehead to forehead holding hands between us because that is just what best friends do, right? Anyway… I could feel her breath on my lips (remember… i was STILL lying to my conscious brain even at this point) and I think my heart rate spiking to the level it did made me actually black out because all of the sudden I opened my eyes and I WAS KISSING HER! I came to just after I had casually kissed my best friend and squeaked out a GOODNIGHT! and rolled over.

I didn’t sleep a M-Fing wink that night. I stared at the wall with my heart in my throat wondering WHY I JUST RUINED MY NEW BEST FRIENDSHIP. Turns out I didn’t. She kissed me the following night and thus ensued a secret 4 year love affair. Yes, I said it… 4 years.

We stayed in the closet together for those four years until I met my first gay friend in college. Coming out to even one person in my life started to make that closet my secret gf and I were in feel really claustrophobic. Eventually we parted ways and I came out to everyone I knew within the next few months. I count my blessings everyday that my coming out was easy for me because I know not everyone experiences it this way. But coming out strengthened my relationship with every single person in my life because the parts of me that no one ever touched were no longer untouchable. I stopped filtering myself (which is also a little detrimental at times) but all of my bonds became stronger because I was letting everyone love me for all of me. All the parts of me.

My story is longer than that but I’ll get off my soap-box for now.

Also to everyone terrified out there – find your one person. Even if you aren’t ready to tell the world and even if it’s a stranger online. Tell your person because even being your true self to just one person can make a huge difference. That being said – it’s okay to not be ready. When you are ready though… you’ve got an army waiting for you.

-Mo

Well I’m gay…

Hello first. I am an 18 year old girl who is gay. I come from a Jewish family from Berlin. My parents are Russians, so they’re not the most open people anyway. Actually, I knew pretty early that I wasn’t really into boys, but my whole environment was absolutely against lgbt +. In general, everything that was different. So I hid my feelings and was very unhappy. Until I started looking at wynonna Earp and saw how many people had feelings similar to mine. And then I finally came out. It was very liberating for me, but the reactions were really not great. I mean my parents yelled at me first and called me a disappointment. Some of my siblings had no problem with it, but some kept their distance from then on. When I told my best friend she didn’t really have a bad reaction (I thought). but suddenly she blocked me everywhere and never spoke to me again. But it was worth it. I found new friends who accept me for who I am and I never have to hide again. I thank you Dominique. I don’t think I would have had the courage to come out without you , the show and without this community.

I don’t put labels on myself.

Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.

Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.

This is me

I love being happy

I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy

#OutIsTheNewIn