Community Rainbow Waves

Lezbehonest I am very much a lesbian.

Growing up in a household where homosexuality was never discussed, I never realized that I in fact was a lesbian. I started to fantasize about women at a young age (5 y/o), but it was not until high school that it really started to hit me. I realize that I was not flirting with guys who were trying to hook up because I was too distracted by the beautiful girl near me. During the day I was busy with theatre, dealing with my father’s death, shitty math classes that I could barely pass, and other things; however, during the night it was just me and my thoughts. It came to the point where I could not take it anymore and was miserable. I knew that I had to do something right then and there. Of course I would muster up the courage to come out in the early AM while everyone was asleep except for my sister. I decided that the best thing I could do is type out an e-mail and send it to those who I valued opinions from the most, so I did and it was the most terrifying e-mail I have ever sent. Since my sister was still out and about with her boyfriend, I decided I would text her. Her response was almost immediate. I was shocked to see that all she wrote was “it’s about time”. That helped me relax a bit that night, but the nagging thoughts of me losing my best friends and family members made it a restless sleep. I was so worried my female best friends would think I intentionally wanted to share a bed during sleepovers because I wanted to sleep with them. I was terrified to be woken up in the middle of the night to my mum dragging me out of the house by my hair and disowning me. Would the man who promised my dad he would take care of us disown me so I am completely out of a father figure? When morning came I managed to get out of bed and right when I opened my door the universe made sure it was at the same time my mum was walking out of her room. We stood there staring at each other and the look she gave me I have never seen before. Thankfully after what felt like hundreds of hours she asked, “are you sure?”. I said yes and b-lined for the bathroom. Nothing else was said after that until I caught her watching a documentary on homosexuality a few days later. This time the looks were reversed! Thankfully most of my loved ones were accepting. I was set free on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 12:30AM. <3

Angela H

Hello friends of Start the Wave, I want to tell you a little more about myself. I always knew that I was strange, since school I did not feel attracted to boys, but clearly I felt that I liked women, at school to go against those I felt because I had a boyfriend but obviously nothing worked, I left school to I was 16 years old and I kept feeling that something in me was not normal, I was still more attracted to women, at 22 I met a lesbian girl who turned the world upside down, I started my first love relationship with that girl, it was something magical, After 4 years that so nice ended for reasons of distance, but I learned that I could love whoever I wanted without persisting that it was wrong. The bad thing about it was when I told my mother, she totally rejected me and told me that she would prefer a dead son than a gay son, according to my mother I am a sin for God! So for that matter my life has been clouded by a slight sadness to feel rejected by the woman who gave me life. My circle of friends is wonderful, one of them is gay, the others are heterosexual and they love me and accept me as I am, something that I would like to feel about my mother and my family. Thanks guys!!! Thank you for all that you do for this planet and for this community that needs so many beautiful people like you.

Lesbian

Not much of a story, but have always felt different in a way. And when I tried dating a boy it felt so wrong. I’ve never felt those feelings you are supposed to feel when I was with a guy but would be attracted to woman or at that stage girls, and would only feel the butterflies with them.
Because of the way I grew up and the kind of people my family were I didn’t want to accept it and couldn’t accept what I was. Found my sell falling deeper and deeper into a hole and losing myself. When my sister found out, she was supportive and helped me thru it. Finally learned to accept who I was and when I did I felt tons lighter
It was a struggle and still learning what this all is but now I don’t apologize for who I am.

A 30-something year old whose journey took her from bisexual to lesbian to queer to not needing a label at all.

This story starts from the very beginning, so prepare yourself for a roller coaster.

Growing Up

Growing up as an only child, I was pretty dependent on my friends to get me through the day. If there was ever a rift in my group, it left me with a horrible feeling inside, as if I could show up the next day and be shunned from our usual bench at lunch. (My fear of abandonment is still real today, but in grade school, you were a loser if you didn’t bring the type of Lunchables that people wanted to trade you for or share with you. Social suicide at such a tender age. Kids are cruel.) So to keep my “social status”, I practically begged my parents to get me the lunches that the cool 10-year-olds ate, with fruit-by-the-foot and Mondo. After surviving the playground, my afternoons consisted of playing sports. Once I could start trying out for the teams in 5th grade, that’s all I wanted to do. I’d save the candies from my Lunchables and bring them to practice to share…with the popular (attractive – because society shamefully says that attractive=popular) girls. I’d pay attention whether they took the chocolate or the candy, which flavor Warhead was their favorite, etc. all in an attempt to talk to them as much as I could. Back then, I saw this as me just wanting them to like me because they were popular and everyone wanted to hang out with them. I knew nothing at this point other than I got severely jealous of their close friends, boyfriends, etc. Again, an awful feeling. It wasn’t until I got to high school that I started to put the pieces together.

High School

In high school, I continued to devote most of my time to schoolwork and basketball, and my teammates were again my best friends – one of them becoming my first girlfriend my sophomore year. Trust me, the irony is not beyond me. This relationship was my first real relationship, so many “firsts” came along with it: first physical/emotional/sexual experiences with a girl, first love, first breakup-and-makeup, first long-term relationship. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years, on and off, and it was such a whirlwind of a relationship. I was 15 years old, completely immersed, everything heightened and everything intense. The feelings, the arguments, the learning, the growing. It truly was a relationship fueled by the unknown mixed with teenage angst, which needless to say caused tension between me and my family because we were both “in the closet” at the time and I couldn’t tell them all the things I was going through. We went through several breaks and rekindlings, that when we approached the end of the relationship within the first maybe 1 ½ years of college, it grew to be unhealthy for the both of us. This is not to say that the good times we had weren’t really good, because they were, but all-in-all, I had outgrown it and was turning into someone I wasn’t quite fond of.

College

I met my second girlfriend in my second year of college, during my “divorce” period with my first girlfriend. I call this a “divorce” because I feel like it took a few months to “finalize” the breakup and detach myself completely. This proved more difficult than I anticipated because potential-Girlfriend-#2 was a roommate of one of Girlfriend #1’s friends, so we were still running in the same circles. Once I was officially out of relationship #1 and in relationship #2, we moved in together and this took my experiences to a whole new level – cohabitation can either make you or break you and it definitely made us. We didn’t have too many hiccups, until I hit a huge speedbump: my dad confronted me about my sexuality. I was 19 years old. Again, we were both still “in the closet” and it was terrifying.

Coming Out – Part 1

My dad asked me to go to the grocery store with him one Saturday afternoon. This would have been a normal occurrence IF 1) he didn’t tell me to get in the car the moment my mom started running her shower, AND 2) if he didn’t take the absolute longest, roundabout way to get to the grocery store. Once he parked the car, he jumped right into it. He asked who insert screenname here was (he already knew), how long we’ve been together, and if my mom knew. His spitfire questions got my spitfire answers: “Girlfriend #2”, 1 ½ years at this point, no she doesn’t know.” My face never seemed to get the memo from my brain to remain calm, so my panic shined right through. My dad’s response: he immediately put his hand on my knee, told me to look at him, and said “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to panic. I just suggest you don’t tell your mom yet because we both know that she won’t be as cool about this as I am. Now let’s get some shopping done.”

With my hands still shaking, we went into the store and went on business as usual. My dad, being the extremely blunt unfiltered person he is, proceeded to randomly ask me inappropriate questions about my relationship, drill in the point of me needing to delete my profile from the home computer so all evidence was gone, and said that if I didn’t do it the moment we got home, he would ask me more inappropriate questions and force me to answer them. “Blackmailed” by my own father.

I didn’t think it would ever go this way. I didn’t have a plan, I hadn’t thought about coming out yet, I was just being the kid-away-at-college and figuring things out as they came along. I mean, to me, this relationship with Girlfriend #2 was kind of still “new” compared to my first relationship. I have to admit though, even without having a formal sit-down with him, a coming out announcement, or anything out of my own choice really, the weight that lifted off my chest was so much greater than I anticipated it to ever be. I finally had a parent I didn’t feel I had to hide all my gritty life details from.

“Adulthood”

Girlfriend #2 and I moved back to our respective homes after being away at college, and things started going awry less than a year later. No longer being able to rely on “cohabitation making us”, we started growing apart. The want to visit each other, Skype, and even text throughout the day like we used to dwindled. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years (similar to my first relationship), but the relationship was becoming one-sided and it wasn’t fair anymore. I hate to say that fighting for it wasn’t worth it anymore, but it’s the truth. We were at different points in our lives, wanting different things for our future, but although I won’t go into the details (because that’s not the point here), all-in-all, it ended amicably.

I took a break from all the seriousness for a few months, focused on my hometown friendships, went on a few (failed) dates, but really just honed in on regaining my individuality. I was 24 years old, juggling my first job as an undergraduate and being a new furmom. Things were really coming back together, in their devil-may-care fashion, and I managed.

And then there was Shedonism – Las Vegas Pride, where I first met Girlfriend #3, my current and god willing my last. Long story kind-of-short, we met through mutual friends from LA and Sacramento, we said maybe a handful of words to each other in Vegas, went home after the event, I texted her 2 weeks later on her birthday, and it was all downhill from there. We talked daily at all hours, officially got together 6 months later, and have been together ever since. We did the long-distance thing for about 1 ½ years and here we are now, living together in LA with 2 dogs, just 4 months shy of our 5 year anniversary celebration, and I’ve never been happier. I could gush about this girl, but I’ll save you guys from that, but I just want to say that it works. It all just works. The present, the future, everything. But no matter how great and grown and comfortable I’ve been in the relationship, I still had a huge chip on my shoulder: I still had to come out to my mom. I am 29 years old, and disappointing my parents is still (and will always be) such a huge deal. But I did it, and I wasn’t alone, and it changed my life.

Coming Out – Part 2

Friday, October 28, 2016 – The day I took the most nerve-wracking risk of my life (and the longest and most crucial).
So this plan had been brewing for almost a year. I originally wanted to come out to my mom around last New Year’s, but it just wasn’t the right time. I thought so long and hard about the various ways to do it because this was probably the most important thing I was ever going to do. I was finally going to be able to plan for this and do this after so many years. I could tell her in one of our daily phone calls or texts, pony up and tell her in person in a very public place to avoid the meltdown, have my dad tell her since he’s known for 9 years, or write her a letter. I opted for the letter. I felt that if I wrote it all down in a letter, no matter how long it was, it would result in some of the weight lifting off of me AND allow me to lay absolutely everything on the table for my mom to absorb. My dad, naturally, wasn’t a fan of the idea, saying “that’s like breaking up with someone via text. I think you should do it in person,” even though I explained to him that I really didn’t think I had it in me to have an impromptu sit-down. I wrote the letter anyway and left it for her to see the next morning at my grandma’s gravesite (for other personal reasons).
Anyway, I was due to visit my parents, and since they get home around the same time, you can imagine how my plan quickly devolved into not my plan at all.
My mom and I moved about the house, my dad comes in, and says “Mom, sit down, your daughter wants to talk to you.” Cue heart attack. I’ve never glared so hard at someone EVER while I said “No dad, I don’t. I REALLY don’t.” At this point, my mom is now starting to panic. My dad then looks at me, says “You’re going to hate me for this, but…”, turns to my mom and says “Your daughter’s ‘roommate’ dates women, and so does she.” Cue heart attack #2 and blackout. What’s a girl to do now that her plan had been hijacked a day earlier than expected? I held onto my consciousness as best as I could and went to sit opposite my mother. Yikes.

The first words out of her mouth were the most heart-wrenching. A phrase a child never wants to hear out of a parent’s mouth:

“I’m disappointed in you.”

I nodded my head and gave her the floor. The next phrases played like a broken record before I’d even said a word.

“Never in a million years did I think my own daughter was going to tell me this.”

And then the parental denial:

“I prayed every night that this day would never come.”

(I complimented her motherly instinct in the letter – I knew she had it in her.)

By this time, my dad is unexpectedly sitting next to me, and as much as I hated him for blowing up my plan, I am so grateful for him right now. I began by telling my mom “I’d been in 3 long-term relationships in the last 14 years, my current relationship consisting of the last 4 ½ years (funny how this number keeps coming up). I’m so tired of hiding myself and my relationships from you and this family. I’m exhausted. My dreams for my future haven’t changed: I still want that house with a white picket fence, be pregnant, have kids, and get married, which now I can, it just won’t be to a man. I’m so happy with how my life turned out, and I’m so lucky because I’ve never been bullied or put down and my friendships are so much stronger now. I’m one of the lucky ones! But it sucked having to go through every relationship and breakup I’ve had and been too scared to tell my own mother about them so that she could help me through everything.”

“The future I wanted for you was for you to find a man who would treat you as the great girl you are, get married, and have a family together. That’s what a family is.”

My dad chimes in immediately, saying “She has found someone who treats her well and makes her happy. I’ve known for several years now, and in the grand scheme of things, this is no big deal. She’s still going to get married and have kids. Your job now as her mother is to love her, not judge her, accept it and move on. She is the same loving daughter you’ve always had. Nothing has changed that.”

Now I’m crying, and I’m not sure if it’s from my mom’s comments or from the shock of witnessing for the first time my dad’s verbal unwavering support. Fast-forward through the next 20 minutes of repeated comments, my mom then has to leave to pick up a family member from work. I turned to my dad after she’s left, and said “Well, I suppose that went as expected…when I get married some time down the road, I’d appreciate it if both of you would walk me down the aisle. I’ll take one, but both would be preferable.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye, “Look, I’d prefer you to date men, but I know that’s not going to happen. You are the way you are, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy. That’s all there is to it. If your mom is going to be upset at you or your girlfriend or anyone for that matter, that’s her problem. I don’t give a shit about anything else. We’re all just people.”

My hero.

Coming to the end of this story now, my mom and I went through 4 days of radio silence, which equaled an eternity since she has text me or called me several times a day since I went away to college. Per my request, she did still read the letter I wrote for her, and we spoke about it while my dad was out of town. I took this chance to stand my ground more firmly, profess that I’m no longer a child, this is not a phase, and this is truly and fully who I am. It has been 3 weeks since “D-Day” and life is…well life I suppose. I’m still a little freaked out that we might just be on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I will take what I can get, and my mom still loves me and hugs me hello and goodbye whenever I see her.

The relief alone feels like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It could have gone a lot worse, and I’m slightly shocked that I am one of the lucky ones. It breaks my heart that so many people out there will not have their story play out as successfully as I did. No matter how old you are, no matter what path of life you are on, the most important things I can say to you are: Trust those close to your heart and embrace them and thank them always for being there for you. Trust yourself especially, because that is who you will always have. Be so unapologetically yourself, and demand respect in the purest way you know how. Please please please stay safe, stay mindful, and only do things you are comfortable doing. You know YOU best, so you’ll know when the time is right.

This is my story, and now I can honestly say it gets better.

Fast-forward 4 years: I am 33 years old, living in Sacramento with 2 furkids, and Girlfriend #3 became my fiancé! Even though we are in the middle of a godforsaken pandemic, I have to say my home life is pretty great and it still gets better and better.

The boy I’ve always been

Since I was Young I’ve always felt like the term female never suited me and that is was weird that people would reffer to me that way. I remember that when I first learned from my teacher about the genders she would point to me and call me a girl, I looked at her with a face painted with hurt and said “I’m a boy” She laughed and said no you’re not sweetheart. Through the years that little moment always has been there in my mind, it was the moment I already knew that the body I was born with wasn’t the body that was actually meant for me, just looking in mirrors just made me wanna puke, seeing a too feminine body just didn’t fit with the gender and person in my head.

Around 7/10 years old I kept saying to other people that is as a boy just born in the wrong body, they would laugh at me and say that something like that just doesn’t exist, but yet I stayed strong and kept living with the idea that I knew who I was and that something about my body was wrong. It stayed like that until high school, people started to bully me way more than before, saying I looked weird and that if I didn’t change into a normal ‘girl’ my life would get worse and worse, I didn’t want that I was done with all the bullying and pushing around, so I changed into the person I wasn’t, a girl, wearing skirts and dresses cause others expected me to wear those. While pushing the thoughts of me being a boy aside I found myself having anxiety and depression.

The depression lasted for years and my friends kept telling me it will be alright and everything will change when I just find out who I rlly was,
So I did just that I went online and began my research with transitioning and being a transgender once again but this time I didn’t let anyone hold me back(I was 14/15 here).

Even though my hair was still long and my body pretty feminine I went back to the all boy-ish clothes and found my self getting happier but not happy enough, my 16th birthday came around and I wanted to have one thing, a binder, my parents were confused but still bought one for me, when I got it I Immediately put is on and I cried, I cried for at least an hour or so, not because something was wrong but because I was so happy. A week after my birthday I came out as transgender to my parents and sister, my mom hugged me and said she already had a feeling that I’ve always been a boy, and she was happy I finally found the person I was (I’m currently crying as well).

After I came out as transgender‍ I cut my hair and bought more boy clothes and threw the girly ones away my friends at school helped me change my name and gender in the school system, and that was a year ago, I’m currently 17 years old a happy trans boy (as far as my happiness now can get) and I can’t wait to begin my next chapter in life, which is going to be testosterone shot.

It helped that a lot a people around me also just accept and support me.(btw my whole family accepts me)

So here is me a trans guy who’s still pre everything but happy and excited to see what else is about to happen In life

-JaeJae-

Still Coming Out After All These Years

I first came out fifteen years ago, when I told my best friend about a crush that was stirring up an epic inner turmoil in the way that only teenage drama can.

A year later, I told my parents that I liked girls, staring fixedly at my shoes and wishing I could disappear. Both of those memories are still so vivid, because although I received compassion and understanding in response, I felt like my whole world was turning upside down. I thought I’d changed my life forever in a single moment. I also thought that was the end of it- I was out. Spoiler alert: that wasn’t the end of it.

I have been coming out for more than half my life now. I start a new job and give my partner’s name as my emergency contact, and I come out. A new friend asks what kind of guys I like and I respond with full honesty, and I come out. Someone spots my engagement ring, we talk about wedding plans, and I come out.

I have experienced every kind of response- confusion, awkwardness, curiosity, anger, delight. It never stops, but it gets easier every time because I know I have community and I know that there is nothing wrong with me. I am proud of who I am and even prouder to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ family. My fellow queers have taught me so much about love, identity, selflessness and courage, and every time I come out I remember that, and I count myself lucky.

Sasha

Everyone is born free, free to be. And I find it so very sad that the way that our world works, changes that as we grow. The older we get, the more we realize that in order to be genuine we have to be really strong willed and have a solid support base. In most cases, we adapt…our once loose laughs, become controlled ones, our beautiful tears become a rarity and bit by bit we change ourselves so we can be accepted by the world. I was a strong willed kid, full of personality, but life is such a crazy journey and I’ve been through some wild trails. Of course that every experience gifts us so many learning opportunities and, what I find the most important thing in someone’s character, it teaches empathy. However, in the long run, it also tires you and I got tired and I changed many parts in myself because I didn’t have the strength to do otherwise, I just wanted to be someone that people would love. In changing myself, I lost the chance to grow up discovering different aspects of my soul, my heart, my personality and my sexuality.

When I was 14, I got butterflies in my stomach every time I talked to my science teacher, without having any idea what it meant. When I was 15, the butterflies would fly for my literature teacher. I loved her curly red hair, her voice and her beautiful smile. She was caring, intelligent and passionate for what she did. With her, the butterflies were everywhere and I started to question my sexuality. I was really unaware of this diverse universe, since my family had never openly talked about it and on TV there wasn’t any solid representation that could enlighten me. I was very confused and I decided to talk to my sister. She, being just as unaware as I was, told me it was nothing and I gladly took it. I didn’t want to be more different than I already was. But that didn’t change the way I felt, it only got stronger and more imprisoning with every passing day. When I was 16, I was crushing on my math teacher (I was super into teachers!) and a sweet girl in my school (finally someone my own age!). During all this time, I was crushing on boys as well, kissing and experimenting with them, thinking how weird it felt for not being as good as everyone said it would be.

I spent my whole teenage life and early adulthood, feeling as if I didn’t belong anywhere. When I was 20, I decided to live alone and from that moment on I started on a journey of self discovery. I allowed myself to look deep inside and be free to feel. I started doing research about different types of sexual orientation, reading about other people’s experiences, watching videos on YouTube and searching for shows where I could see something that represented what I felt. At 22, I was sure, at 23, I was brave. The first person that I told to was myself, loud, clear and true. In my family, I first came out to my sister, who is my best friend and my soul, she was just as beautiful as I could have expected her to be. Then I told my mom, who was both okay and very curious about it (she’s done lots of research since then), then my dad, who said he already knew, and my closest friends. After coming out to everyone I considered important, I felt untouchable, whole and as if I was breathing for the first time, it was one of the best moments of my life.

Finding a label to classify myself into was very confusing, I first came out as bisexual, then I was told that I was a lesbian…But I never felt comfortable with the labels, they made me feel suffocated and like I had an obligation to stand by them, instead of standing by me. I’m 30 now, and I’m proud to say that what I am is what I was born to be: free! Free to be all the colors of my beautiful rainbow.

Here and queer 😉

At twelve I moved from primary to secondary school…to an all girls school the first few years were great, we were all pretty immature still, still played ‘tag’/’it’ in the playground. But then we started maturing and I found myself falling into the shadows. We’d all read the same books, watch the same films and tv shows then discuss like any normal teenage friendship group but while they’d gossip about how hot the main character was- Damon from ‘the vampire diaries’ for example or Theo James as Four in ‘divergent’, I couldn’t deny that these guys were attractive but I couldn’t understand why my friends were SO obsessed with them to the point where I thought they’d see me as different if I didn’t reciprocate the same thoughts. So I pretended. When in reality I had a huge crush on Tris (divergent) or Bonnie (tbf), or Lena (beautiful creatures) but that’s only in hindsight. Of course I wouldn’t admit to myself these feelings because surely they were wrong. There were ‘out’ people in my school but I saw the way they got treated how the ‘f’ slur got thrown at them like they were nothing. And I wasn’t prepared for that. A few years later…at 16, I moved to a different school for sixth form whose community was so accepting. In fact the head teacher was a lesbian and had kids and a family of her own…the first ‘real’ queer representation I’d seen. Slowly I started to come out to people, first to my closest friend who is gay, we’ve belonged to the same theatre group for years- I’d listen to him week after week telling me about the bullies at his school who’d bully him for the fact that he is gay. Through theatre we found acceptance… anyway, back to coming out..:so I slowly started to come out to people at school and no one had a bad reaction….I said I liked girls, I didn’t want a label but I knew that to come out to my parents they’d want one, so I wrote them a note in rainbow colours saying I had a date with a girl and I was indeed a ‘homosexual’ (I was 17 at this point), I handed them the note and ran upstairs into the shower so I didn’t have to face them…they took it very well and said they loved me no matter what..:the term ‘queer’ didn’t make an appearance into my dictionary until a few months later and I wish I’d used that…but with time I hope that coming out won’t have to be a thing, that people can just be who they want to be and love who they want without it being a huge question or debate!
So yes, that’s my story…nearly a year on from coming out and people have been accepting on the whole 🙂

Non-Binary

I am 43. I could say my whole story of coming out as a lesbian when I was 16, but that’s not where I want to begin. I am A former songwriter. Made a living. Wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. I had a stroke when I was 40. Had aphasia and memory problems. Then I couldn’t write anymore. I’m still grieving that, but I started painting instead. For the first time. I’ve done quite well with it. I found myself using colors and topics that have to do with who I am. Things I didn’t remember but did remember when I painted them. Like The painting was a vessel for…me to remember who I am. So I decided to come out as non-binary. I’ve always known since I was maybe 4. But there were no words for it. The binary never made sense to me. So here I am. A lovely non-binary human who loves women. And everyone has been so lovely to me. I have learned that there are always consequences to everything you do. Everything. Good. Bad. In between. So you might just be who you are. It’s easier. I hated myself for so long, but now I think I just got lucky.

My journey: From then to now

My journey started young, but took quite a while to get where I am now.

I was 8 years old when I had my first indication. Now at the time I had no idea what it meant. I was on a little league softball team with all girls. There was this one girl whom I absolutely adored. She was older than me and took to me like a younger sister. I loved all the attention. I didn’t really understand at the time, but I remember the feeling. I wanted her to hang out with me, hug me, play with me, and no one else. I would get insanely jealous and do crazier and crazier things just to get and keep her attention. Because when it was on me, I was so happy and warm, and felt like the most special person in the world. At the time, and years looking back, I believed this just to be normal. I just really wanted to be her friend. After that season we drifted, she was older after all and moved on to middle school and I stayed in elementary.

Then when it was my turn to move to middle school, I got a new neighbor. She was exactly my age, only three months younger, so we would both be going to school together. I hated her at first, honestly I’m not sure why, she did nothing. But that hate eventually turned to a strong, strong like. And, since she lived right next door and we were in the same grade, naturally we did everything together. We basically lived at each other’s houses. We were completely inseparable and spent every waking moment together. We became close. We used to cuddle and hold hands, kiss each other on the cheek, hold each other as we cried. Without knowing it, she had become my everything. I didn’t realize most of the things we did were not just friendly things. Not until I turned 12 and came across a show called South of Nowhere. It featured two female leads who fell in love with one another. It was like something clicked inside me, and a piece of me was revealed. I didn’t admit it to myself, but deep down I knew.

With being so young I turned to my mom. I explained everything to her, and I remember she was polite but didn’t understand. She asked me why I felt this way, why that show, with the girl couple, made me think I was that way. I told her it was easy.

Now being young I couldn’t articulate that I didn’t really mean easy; I meant that everything had just fallen into place. I remember she told me it was just a show, scripted, and that life was never that easy, and that if I was into girls it would only make it harder.

I turned to my best friend next. Told her of what I’d discovered and how I felt. She seemed shocked but curious. We stayed close for a few weeks until one day she kissed me. I had read in books how your heart accelerates and you breath catches in you throat. I had thought that was just fiction, but in that moment I felt everything. It felt like fireworks and everything everyone had always said. But then she pulled back, told me that it was a mistake, and ran off.

I didn’t see her for weeks. I was completely heart broken. I tried to talk to her, to get her to even just look at me in class or on the bus, but she didn’t. Finally she came to me with an ultimatum. She was straight and could not be friends with me if I felt the way I did, if I was the way I was. So I told her I made a mistake, that I wasn’t any different from her. I just got caught up in the show, thought it was cool. We stayed friends after that but not nearly as close. And we drifted away in high school.

I had pushed that revelation so far down in my mind that I didn’t think about it. I still had feelings of course. I would see a pretty girl and get this urge to talk to her, to make her like me and be friends. But I always told myself it was just because I wanted a new best friend. Or i wanted to be like her, look like her, that’s why I found her so pretty, so interesting.

I faked crushes on boys and had fake boyfriends. But we never went further than making out and even then it was gross and uncomfortable. But I thought that’s just how it was.

Then finally I went off to college. I discovered this YouTube channel on a fluke, of two women happily married. I watched every single video on that channel. I took “am i gay quizzes” and did so much research you’d think I had a paper to write. Finally after years and years of pushing down who I really was, I decided to try accepting it. All of my research led me to realize what I was feeling wasn’t bad or abnormal. Others were out there with the same experiences. So I started to accept it.

A year later I officially came out to my mom. It took me almost 10 minutes just to utter the words. “Lesbian” stuck in my throat like a brick. I’d never said it aloud before. I cried so hard after just saying it, it was so freeing and felt so good. My mom was pretty accepting which I was thankful for.

I came out to my new best friend who said she really wasn’t surprised and was extremely proud of me.

Next was my dad, he wasn’t as accepting, didn’t understand. But eventually he came around. A few years after I told him he amended one of his statements about my future husband to maybe future wife and I cried.

My sister was a bit funnier. I told her at lunch and she did a spit take. Told me she should have known by my giant pause beforehand. But she had gay friends and was very supportive also.

I was so incredibly lucky that my family was supportive. I was so lucky that they still loved me and accepted me for who I was.

I still have days where everything seems impossible. Where I’m so frustrated at the world for not accepting my community or being cruel to them. But then I have days where I see happiness and love. Where I remember how far we’ve come, how far I’ve come, and I’m so incredibly proud.

Now, at 23, I’ve just come to realized that maybe I’m not so monogamous. That made the term polyamorous also suits me quite well.

I haven’t said this part aloud yet, or told anyone. So if you’re reading this, surprise, it’s my second coming out. I just might be a polyamorous lesbian.

Either way, I’m so glad to be apart of this community. And although I may not have it all figured out, that’s alright. We are constantly evolving and changing.

And I know that either way, whatever happens or whatever way I choose to identify: everything will be okay.