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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Katy/Polyamorous Lesbian

To me, it seems like there are two stages to coming out: coming out to yourself and coming out to others. I was 13 when I thought I might be bi, 15 when I admitted to myself (after two years of self-flagellation) that I was a lesbian, and 16 when I came out to others. But it wasn’t until I was 20 that I could really call myself proud, or at least self-accepting. It was a long, rough journey, but definitely worthwhile.

I think it was that journey and maturity that made realizing I was polyamorous so much easier:

Me: “I like her…but I also like her…and it’s not that I like one more than the other…it’s that they’re equal, but different…”
My Brain: “Polyamory is a thing.”
Me: “…Huh.”
And that was that.

As much as people joke about gaydar, we do know our own. I’m lucky enough to know a lot of people who are out and proud, but every so often I meet someone who makes me think “this person is out to themselves, and they’ve accepted it, but they’re not quite ready to share it with the world yet.” And you know what? That’s ok. Coming out is a process, and it takes as long as it needs to. Coming out to myself and truly accepting my sexuality was the hardest part, but also the most rewarding. So whatever you feel and whomever you love, be honest and out to YOURSELF first and foremost. The rest will come in time.

And know that when you are ready to come out to others, you’ve got a rainbow of people ready to lift you up.

Kimberly, Cisgender, Lesbian, she/her

I first realized I might be gay when I was in middle school, though it was not something I was ready to accept. I have always been a tomboy, and was very aware of gender growing up. While I had an incredibly supportive family and felt that I could live my life without limiting myself to what society had dictated someone of my gender should do, there were times when it was incredibly stressful. I avoided using public restrooms for fear of someone thinking I was a boy and trying to kick me out, I hated when activities were separated based on gender and even lost a friend because he thought I was a boy until we were separated in an activity, and I had another friend tell me he wouldn’t believe I was a girl until I had boobs. Despite all of this, I never changed how I dressed or the activities I was involved in until I thought I might be gay. I felt I was different enough as it was, I did not want to add the stress of being gay on top of everything else. My greatest fear through high school and college was that someone would think I was gay and I wouldn’t be able to deny it. I successfully avoided any formal events in middle school, but in high school I started wearing dresses for the first time since my parents dressed me as a very young kid. I avoided any physical contact with women and didn’t allow myself to get too close to any woman for fear of developing serious feelings I couldn’t deny. In the moment, I didn’t think too much about it, but reflecting back, it was pretty horrible. This lasted until my senior year in college, when my best friend started breaking down all of my barriers. She started hugging me, holding my hand, and cuddling, and for the first time I realized how touch starved I had been. This was great, but also super confusing. I had never had a super close friend or a partner and I did not know how to interpret my feelings for her. She was also in a relationship with a man and was pretty vocal about being straight. Eventually I just had to accept that I had fallen in love with her, and this helped me to start on my journey to accepting my sexuality. It was not until the next year, after we had moved in together and had been living with each other for a couple of months, that I finally felt ready to come out. I told my family first, and they were amazing, and then I told my best friend, who was also amazing. I thought that after I came out, everything would just fall into place, which did not happen. It has been almost 2 years since I came out, and I have struggled a lot. I spent the majority of my life trying to convince myself I wasn’t gay and the deep sense of shame, fear, and anxiety that I had been living with doesn’t just disappear. But I have also grown a lot in those two years. The shame, fear, and anxiety don’t rear their heads as much anymore, and I am starting to get to a point where I can actually have pride in who I am. I even told my best friend that the reason I came out was that I had fallen in love with her, which is something I had been hiding for so long and was a huge relief when I finally released it. There is still room to grow, but I am incredibly happy with where I am now, and for the first time in my life I feel like I can love who I truly am.

Chris. P.S. Believe in yourselves. Dream. Try. Do good. -Mr Feeny

Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)

At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!

That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)

Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.

My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.

My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)

I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.

I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?

I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?

I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.

Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?

Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?

I identify as “Trying”

I came out at thirteen as a lesbian. I was so convinced I only liked women as a result of severe familial trauma in my early years.

Deep, seeded trauma had kept me from being an honest person, and while I don’t use that as an excuse for my adult behavior, I understand that trauma motivated many unsavory behaviors in me until my early twenties at least. And I will have to work the rest of my life to forgive myself for the person I was when I was not honest with myself or anyone else. And that’s okay.

I allowed the fear of myself I harbored to be my sole motivator.
I feared loneliness so I remained in toxic interpersonal relationships for fear of being alone long enough to confront my own trauma.

I feared my parents, who were incapable of caring even for themselves as a result of their own never confronted traumas, thus providing me with a grocery-list of my own traumas to deal with.

I feared being adopted or thrust into the foster care system, like my siblings had been. If I was going to have to be housed, I’d rather not have had to meet new people doing it.

I feared disappointing others, mostly my religious grandparents.

I feared all men as a result of my mother’s propensity for self sabotage and men with abusive habits.

This fear has followed me for decades. I’m here because I’m not a lesbian and I don’t think I’ve formulated a coherent thought around that before now. I love love. I love all types of people. Despite what I’ve convinced myself, I am capable of great love and I am deserving of it, no matter who it’s from. I am so sorry to my younger self for forcing her into this box. I was convinced I had to pick a side to be taken seriously. I don’t. You don’t. It’s ridiculous. Be open to love in its many forms. My life has opened up greatly since I had this revelation.

I’m trying. And sometimes that’s all you can do.

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.

A tomboy

I’m a 25 yrs old lesbian, At the age of 17 I have a crush on this girl at that time I didn’t know I like girls, I was very afraid of this new feeling I felt at that time, this girl and I were friends and I thought was just friendship that I felt, so I looked up the internet for answers, turns out I was gay, but I’m not embarrassed surprisingly, somewhere deep inside my heart I knew I liked girls but was surpressing it unknowningly, some of my friend knows , some don’t, my parents sure didn’t, but I hope someday I can freely come out and be myself, love who I love and free of the burden, I hope that one day I can come out to the world and proudly say I’m a lesbian, and to all who is reading this, don’t give up on yourself hang in there and be positive in life, I know I will.

Lesbian badass

Ever since I knew how to speak, I’ve always been drawn to females and never really to males? I didn’t grow up with a lot of representation so the word lesbian wasn’t very common. Gay was a big word growing up for me however, it was used in very negative connotations and that’s what started the repression part of my sexuality. I repressed it and thought it would just go away, I prayed for hours, I tried everything to make it go away and it wouldn’t. Until one lucky fateful day. Wynnona Earp. Season 1 episode 09. Bury Me With My Guns. One of the first LGBTQ+ couples I’d seen in the media. I was immediately struck. The show helped me realise that what I was wasn’t something bad. It was something beautiful. I was never truly able to accept myself at all before that. And after I told a few friends about it, I realised, I wasn’t alone. The majority of my friends experienced similar things, whether it be gender or sexuality. So I thank Emily Andras from the bottom of my heart for allowing such beautiful representation, and such accurate representation to find its way onto my (cracked-but-still-working) screen. 😀

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.

“I am not confused and therefore a bisexual…I am just a confused bisexual” Alina, Germany

Looking back on my childhood I now ask myself “how did I not realise it sooner”. I am a 16 year old cis white girl from Berlin, Germany. Troughout my childhood I always wanted to “be friends” with sertain girls becuase I thought that they were pretty and kind. I had a huge crush on Emma Watson because “she was so cool”. My “bisexual awakening” was popably in 4th grade while watching “Pirates of the Caribbean” I had a crush on both Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley.
I was always a little wilder and “boyish” in my behaviour although I wore dresses. In 5th grade I stopped wearing them and started wearing hand me downs form my older brothers. because of my outer appereance mixed with my boyish behavior I was called names by some mean kids but hey I either ignored them or challenged them fo a fist fight (I won…most times).
So the name calling stopped and I lived in peace until 8th grade came along. One of my close friends outed herself as “bisexual”. I was like “wait a minute…I can like both? Boys AND girls?”. It took me a half a year to accept the Idea of me liking both girls and boys. In 9th grade I wa certain that one could classify myself as a bisexual. But then my “bisexual” friend came out as a lesbian and explained that she only outed herself as bisexual because she wasn’t 100% shure she only liked girls. But now she was.
So my inner struggle began…I thought that I maybe was lying to myself because being bisexual was “easyer” than being a lesbian. on other days I thought that I must be a lesbian because not every boy seems attractive to me.
My wohle friendgroup is pretty gay…like LGBTQ..yep we have every damn letter represented. Don’t get me wrong I love my friends but sometimes they overdid it a bit with things like: “You totally look like a lesbian today”. They didn’t know that their “encourageing” words confused me even more.
On some days I just wanted to be a lesbian just to stop that ongoing confusion in my head. But I still liked boys and had to deal with that.
I am not confused and therefore a “bisexual” I am just a confused bisexual.
Now 2 years later I am out in school, to my famely and friends and am currently dating a girl. The confusion stopped and I accepted myself.

My coming out:
The first time I came out to someone other than myself was in 9th grade when I told my friends that I was “bisexual”. They weren’t suprised and freaking high fived me. So a very positive experience.
Half a year later I came out to my dad(my mom and dad are married for 33 years now) he promised not to say anything to my mom. We were driving back from the ski-lift. My father was telling me fun facts to the song we were currently listening to. One of these facts was that the female singer was married to a woman. I said:”why marry a man if you could have a wife”. He just looked at me and agreed “true”. A few minutes later he turned to me and asked “are you a lesbian now?” I sayed: “No, bisexual”. He nodded. No questions asked.

so 2 positive reactions to my coming out. I also have had negative ones but I already wrote a little bit too much XD sooo
I wish you all the best and hope that you are living in a save environment that allows you to be yourself.
-Alina

They call me a bisexual girl but I’d rather not label myself

Since I was a kid. It all started during my elementary days. I am avoiding one of my classmate because I am ashamed of her. Like she’s so beautiful and everyone likes her. Then one time our teacher assigned our permanent seating arrangement and I was shocked because she is my seatmate! We are awkward to each other then. So that was the time that I know to myself that I like girls and boys.