Community Rainbow Waves

Gay

I chose to indentify as gay, because I feel like I can use that as an umbrella term. To me the word lesbian doesn’t seem quite right, because it completely rules out men, and though I’ve never fallen for a man before, I don’t think it’s impossible.

Some family members and most of my friends know I’m not straight, but I fear to come out the the public, not only because I’m scared of their reactions but I also kind of feel like it’s none of their business? I’m not in a relationship nor have I ever been before, but I don’t feel like disclosing my sexuality without reason you know?

However, your story did inspire me to at least write my story somewhere, and perhaps, with all sadness going on in the world right now I might as well put this story up somewhere else, to share some colour and be true to myself.

Asexual

My whole life I was asexual and aromantic. But I didn’t have words. I picked names of random guys to be crushes, basing it on ‘well he seems nice and people expect me to say someone.’ I agreed to go on dates when asked. For a time, I even wanted nothing more than to be in a happy, straight relationship because that I meant I was not only wanted and desirable as a person, it meant I was normal. After trying out dating life with someone who on paper should have checked all the boxes, I felt so uncomfortable. Every day as his ‘girlfriend’ I felt nauseous. I felt like I was lying. I couldn’t call him my boyfriend. I avoided him as much as I could. I kept thinking in time it would get better, but the more attempts we made at having a normal relationship, the more uncomfortable I felt. I had a friend say ‘well maybe you’re asexual.’ I sheepishly agreed, but honestly had no idea that was even a thing and felt embarrassed in my ignorance. After a lot of googling, I knew who I was. I am thankful for that relationship, which I ended shortly after my discovery.

But the way I found myself and the time I found myself (2012) ingrained a sense in me that as well as I could understand myself, no one else could. So I went on, being myself to people who knew me, but staying silent in other areas aside from a few brave moments on social media. And often when it did come up, people asked questions. And as much as I do think everyone deserves an education, I couldn’t help feeling like no matter what answer I gave, they already had one in mind that would hold true. No matter if it was or not. That continued. I have been welcomed by the LGBT+ community, but knowing not everyone feels that way towards asexuality kept me feeling wrong and broken all over again. I didn’t fit in a straight mold. Nor did I fit a queer one. Even though the majority of people I’ve encountered have been kind, I still tend to fall into silence. Supporting pride and equality for others, but producing an internalized list of reasons why feeling inferior in my identity daily isn’t enough to qualify me as deserving the same as everyone else.

Years of off-putting conversation, exclusion and lack or representation created this paradox. I could accept myself. I could love seeing other people proclaim their pride. But I felt indulgent, selfish and out of place if I did the same. But as time has gone on, I realized I don’t need to justify my right to claim my identity. It’s not a contest of suffering. And in a way, the rules we use to measure our experiences don’t fit all identities. I have had the amazing safety of passing as straight and the anonymity to be who I am without fear of repercussions as long as I avoid the topic of my sexuality in conversation. But I’ve also had to lie every time I turn a guy down because I’m afraid if I tell the truth that he’d try to prove me wrong. I had a therapist I went to for help question my orientation and experiences relentlessly, going as far as suggesting I ‘try it’ with multiple genders to see which I prefer. I’ve had strangers ask if I masturbate, if I’ve tried X,Y,Z thing, or tell me I just haven’t found the one yet because they know me better than I know myself. And most of all, I have to go through every day thinking I don’t have the right to express who I am. Feeling guilty for being proud and knowing who I am.

Dom came out on her birthday. I write this on my own birthday. I’ve been ‘out’ for years now, but this year I pledge to allow myself to take up the space I deserve. I have and will always support the representation of all orientations, genders, races, cultures and identities. I will continue to raise up all of the other voices that need to be heard in this world. But I also need to start using my own.

They’ll Never Stop Shining

Stars have always been present somehow in my life. This may seem like a weird way to start off, but trust me; it’ll make sense. I always would take a moment and pause when getting out of the car at night to look at the stars, even if there were barely any in the sky, I’d try my hardest to point one out. My first and middle names are named after my grandmothers names, which in greek translated to “shining star”. To me, it connected the stars to who I am and my roots. For me to have this weird connection to them, it was only fitting they’d be there in the moment.

It was the day after new years, 2017, and I had only just turned 16 a month prior. I was worried about going into my senior years of high school, who I was as a person and so many other things a 16 year old would be worried about. Turns out I wasn’t the only one, so two of my friends at the time, one of their mothers and I planned a small trip to one of their grandparent’s alpaca farm for three days to ease off some of the stress before we started one of our last years in high school. It was spacious and cozy, the alpacas’ fleece had just been cut a few days before and they all ran around along with the dog.

It was on the second day we were there that the three of us decided to set up a tent outside of the house and camp out. We talked about the most random things. A lot of it was me randomly interrupting conversation because I would mistake the noise of a wild kangaroo for a person, but that’s besides the point. We were all comfortable in our company and relaxed. One of my friends got tired and left the other and I outside the tent as she went to sleep. We continued talking for about everything and nothing till 3:30 in the morning. I don’t leave Sydney much, and when I do it’s usually to other cities;

I had never seen a sky so clear. I felt like I was looking upon galaxies, I’d never seen colour in the sky like I did then.

So, as the conversation naturally flew into the topic I told my friend, “I don’t think I’m straight.”

It was odd that I didn’t feel scared as I thought I was going to, I don’t know if it was the fact my friend was also queer that calmed me or the fact I was looking at a sight I had never seen before but felt so connected to. In that moment, even though I felt like there was still so much of me to figure out, I knew that was my truth and I was finally comfortable and confident to let someone know.

That whole conversation under the stars remains one of my favourites. I’m not as close wth the girl I told anymore but she told me it was one of her favourite conversations as well, which brightens a special place in my heart.

Since then, I’ve come out to all my friends and my sister. Though I still don’t know it all, one thing I know for sure is that when I pause for a moment to look up for a star in the sky- I’ll know even if I can’t see any, they’ll still be shining a light, somehow saying they see me. All of me.

And they see you too.

– Styliana | 19 | Queer | AU

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

Bisexual?

This is the first time I have openly written about my sexuality so first of let’s take it back to the beginning.

I have always respected those in the lgbtq+ community, from a very young age i believed that love is love, and when you love you do it loud and proud. I was lucky for believing that statement that love is love. I grew up in a catholic household which isn’t typically an open minded religion from my experiences.

Now fast forward to my high-school years. I was also very lucky to be at a school that was diverse and open minded. We had a gay straight alliance club, I never went because I was scared but everyone loved it.

High-school is when I started watching a ton of shows that had wlw just because It felt powerful. And of course I began taking the quizzes every one takes at some point in their life. Along with me discovering who I love i was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. This took me awhile to come to terms with. Even though I struggle everyday I get back up even on the darkest days where I feel alone. watching those shows gave me peace along with validation.

The biggest influence for me discovering that I loved women was watching wlw couples on TV. The feeling I had when wlw couples appeared on the screen and got more than 5 seconds together was just… I was speechless and overwhelmed with love and support.
By far the most influential part of my journey has been watching wynonna earp.

As cheesy as it sounds watching wayhaught develop into this beautiful couple has just brought me hope. Watching them love so hard and support each other is so powerful. I hope one day to find that crazy love.

Now I wish I had this big “character arch” but im 20yrs old and this is me. I’ve spent the majority of my years supporting the community. And slowly began realizing how I would love to take her out for coffee over him. I’ve never felt connected to men, the way I look at women is completely different, I feel it and just know. Granted I have never been in a relationship with anyone.

The right one will show up when its the right time. As much as I’d love to do cheesy couple dates.

im scared that I won’t be accepted for who I love because I can’t find words to really describe how I feel and of course I feel like I have to explain myself to others.

I hope and pray that one day we can all live in peace.

I want to see a world where love isn’t frowned upon just because who i love and who you love may be different.

It’s okay to be different, that’s your superpower.

I hope whoever reads this is inspired or realizes that they are valid. I also hope reading this that you realize you don’t have to have all the answers now. Because Im still figuring myself out as well. tried writing this as accurately and open as I could, I still struggle to find words to how I feel, but its all a part of my journey. I find it hard to put a label on my sexuality like lesbian or bisexual so maybe I will figure that out soon too

Love Love

Love proudly

Love Loud

All my love and support for you beautiful people

♡
~K

“People fear what they don’t understand, what they fear, they judge as evil, what’s evil, they attempt to control and what they can’t control, they attack”

I realized I was not straight when I was 25. Up until then I was sure that I was straight but hadn’t found the right boy yet. Once I realized I wasn’t straight, my life changed.

I told my friend that I had a crush on that girl and it was driving me nuts. She said I was just overthinking it. Nothing made sense anymore.

Quick background – I come from a deeply religious family and the country that I live in just a few years ago legalized lgbt+ relationships. My friends teased anyone that was different. I just wanted to be normal.

I didn’t want to be different and stand out. I wanted it to go away cuz up until then I had only dated boys. Maybe I thought that if I focused on the boys, I didn’t have to think about girls. I never thought twice on kissing girls on a dare or when I was drunk because I thought it was ok and not weird.

Finally after a lot of reading I realized I was not alone or confused. Coming out stories helped me accept my truth. I said the words – I am bisexual and it’s ok. Accepting it for myself was the biggest challenge. I know I’d be teased and ridiculed and I knew life was only going to get difficult from here. My closest friends became more understanding and became the support system I didn’t know that I required.

Last year I got a tattoo that said “to each his own” in Latin and watercolor. I was always bisexual but didn’t come to terms with it till a human made me look closely at myself and accept me for who I truly was. Without her I might not have been here. I might have never accepted myself for who I was and may have never ever been so clear about any of this.

Queer woman who tip toed out 20 years ago

The summer before my freshman year of college I lifeguarded at a hotel pool in MD. One night, I was working late because my boyfriend’s band had a show out of town. Toward the end of the night this women’s basketball team from Boston came down to hang out in the hot tub and we all ended up chatting bc they were all around the same age as me. We ended up getting along really well, especially this one girl, Vicki.
Long story short, the team went back to Boston and Vicki and I kept in constant contact over the next several months. We both moved into school and decided we wanted to see each other again, so I booked a flight to go visit her in November. Even though I had a boyfriend, I thought maybe I started to develop feelings for her. I was confused, but I figured my trip would clarify things. By the time I got there, she ended up having a girlfriend so I got no answers.
When I got back to school in Pittsburgh, I felt worse than before I left for Boston. I went through a very deep depression. I stopped eating, I never slept, I felt like I was just going through the motions bc my head was always consumed by what was happening in my heart. I still was very attracted to men and didn’t know anyone like me bc this was 2000 and things were A LOT different 20 years ago. All I could think about was “why am I different” and “what did I do to deserve this”. Finally, my cousin who worked at my school, saw how badly I was struggling and she addressed me about it one night by coming out to me. It was the first person I knew who was actually gay. It was a kind of solace, but I still didn’t know who I was or what I was.
Fast forward a couple months and I had grown close to one of my cousin’s friends but she was in a relationship. One night I was staying at my cousin’s house she had a “surprise” for me and turned out that this girl had feelings for me, broke up with her gf, and was on her way here. We ended up kissing the night (my first time kissing a woman) and it was like fireworks. I knew at that point, I was going to have to address these feelings.
After that, I met and started dating a woman and slowly started telling my teammates and close friends. At school in Pittsburgh I felt free to be myself, but when I went back to MD that summer to be with my family, I got sucked right back into the closet. I wasn’t comfortable talking to my Catholic family about it bc I knew they wouldn’t understand.
One day, my mom walked in on my “laying” down with a woman and she flipped out. My mom was eventually “ok” but didn’t want me telling anyone else.
It took quite a while but now, I am 38 years old, married to a woman and have 3 children. I am fully out, confident in my queerness, and happy!

Missouriraynebowe…I am from Missouri. Raynebowe is a play on words because I was looking for the colorful part of a difficult situation.

My earliest memories of attraction to other females was as early as 3rd grade. I remember this girl, who we shared the same bus ride, the same classroom and our desks were in the same 4 square shape group. She sat diagonal from me. So I could see her from nearly every angle. I remember the teacher standing in the middle of the room, which was directly behind her. I remember trying to pay attention, but getting lost in thought of how her smile and laughter brightened up the room. I remember longing for recess time so we could hang out. We always seemed to be together in everything. Life was so big then. I didn’t know yet, obviously what it meant for me. So I chalked it up to best friends and moved on through life quietly in the shadows of what was societal expectations back then. I was 25 years old when I decided to go to my 1st gay bar. It was out in the sticks, old metal converted barn with a lake, a pool room, dance floor, obviously a bar and bathrooms. It took months for me to actually go in the bar part of the bar. I stayed where the pool tables were and made a friend who worked there and watched from a distance trying to navigate different waters of my life. When I got comfortable, my friend that worked there, took my hand and walked me inside to watch a drag show. WOW was I ever caught up and amazed. I was hooked after that. The lights, the singing, performing. The drag queens were as openly colorful as I felt inside. This week after week helped me come to full terms with my own sexuality. So another friend took me to a small book store downtown, Columbia called The Peace Nook. It was back then a safe haven for anyone who needed to just be. I read books, talked with patrons, the owner. The Peace Nook embraced the power of just being to the very core and to this day, still in the same location, waving it’s rainbow flag and the Peace Nook flag outside of it’s staircase on the street. It still stands for it’s core values. At 30 I met my first serious girlfriend. Fell hopelessly in love. Everything in my world aligned perfectly. But not without some struggles. Then she got sick with cancer 3 years into our relationship. She died in my arms. Needless to say I was broken to the core. I lost myself, traveled the east coast, landed for Florida for 10 years. Made lots of acquaintances. Met someone special that sparked that light that had been dead for so long. We ended up being just good friends, but she helped me bring my colors out again. I have survived cancer that should have killed me, I have had 2 mastectomies, several surgical procedures, through it all…I am better, stronger, more loving, and found my calling. Not only did I go to school for Massage therapy and graduated 2nd in my class. I found myself….again. Through that, I found my own love for life again. I don’t judge, because I have been judged, I don’t preach: I teach, I am strong, because I have been broken to my core. Now I take all of this in my daily life and career working, being a House Manager for individuals with developmental disabilities. I personally prefer to say that my peeps just have different abilities. I help them define and use their skills the best they can. I love so much, but it is no comparison to the love I am given freely everyday of my life. I just hope one day I can be that pure of heart and teach as much as I am taught. I will end on this note. Be a light, be open, be you, above all LOVE.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.