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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Feelings and Finding Footing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sending all the love and light to my rainbow family.

Bi

Since the age of 11, I have kinda known that I was attracted to girls; I used to have crushes that i used to deny because one, i was young, two, it was never talked about in my household, and three, i just didn’t know what i was feeling. It all came in perspective when i started to develop a crush on my friend’s sister. I was 12. My friends started asking me questions: Why are so interested in her? Why do you act so weird around her? Do you like, LIKE her or something? Those questions wracked my brain day and night for almost a year. Then i managed to suppress it for a while. Cut to 2 years later, i finally realized that I was bi. So i tried to focus on the part of me that liked boys, told noone.
Then, last year i decided to tell my best friend. It was too much to keep it inside me for so long, so i called her up to Starbucks one day and as u started to tell her, she said she knew. She knew and she was okay with it. I still haven’t come out to my parents and family yet, because i know they won’t be okay with it but at least I’m not lying to myself anymore. That’s what keeps me going.

Gay

I guess I started questioning my sexuality when I was 10, I’d experimented with girls and was just very confused. I didn’t know what it meant to like girls, but some part of me, did. As I grew up, my friends would ask me if I was bi, because they’d noticed how I looked at our vice principal, who happened to be a woman. I denied it. I denied liking anyone, until I met my boyfriend. He was my safety net. No one really questioned me anymore, because I had a boyfriend, so pretty much everyone just assumed I was straight, except the few people who knew. *Coughs* The girls I’d been with behind closed doors, and my therapist. When I was 15, my therapist outed me as bisexual to my mother, I was terrified because I grew up in a very closed-minded, judgmental, “Christian” “family”. Being too scared to tell the truth, I chickened out and said I was bi. This came with more questions, mainly from my mother. “I thought you liked boys, you have a boyfriend”. Then came the shame. “It’s a sin, you’ll go to hell”. And at the time, I didn’t know better, and wasn’t taught better, so I believed it. I believed I was going to go to hell, if I was myself. If I liked anyone but boys. So I tried. I tried to like boys for as long as I could. I dated boys. In secret, I also dated girls. I didn’t know how to stop how I felt, I was so confused. I was too sheltered and didn’t have any guidance or anyone to talk to about these feelings, until I discovered the TV show South Of Nowhere, in 2005. I was still 15, and didn’t have much supervision at night when my mom was at work, so I could watch whatever I wanted on TV. South Of Nowhere is a show about a girl very much like me, came from a very closed-minded, “Christian” family. She met a girl and started questioning everything. Ironically, the same character that made her question everything, made my brain go crazy. I’d liked this character way more than what was considered “normal”. I started deep diving into my thoughts and feelings with every new episode, and slowly, eventually I started realizing who and what I was. The show had a bunch of different perspectives so it really helped guide me to figure out what MY beliefs and opinions were. By the end of the series, 5ish years later, I had finally admitted it to myself. I had to come out to myself first. I was gay. There was guilt, I was still ashamed of who I was. It took a few years for me to be okay with who and what I was, but eventually I was. When I was about 20 my mom and I were in a heated argument about gay and transgender people, and she made me pretty upset so I told her that she was hurting my feelings because I’m one of the people she was being so hateful towards, she didn’t really understand and sort of just blew it off, didn’t really say anything. About a year later, when I was 21, the same argument happened, again. (We’d had a lot of those arguments). And again, I told her she was hurting me because I was gay. This time, she heard me.

My name is Hope, and I’m an out and proud, gay woman.

First Clue… Crush on the Flying Nun

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.

Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.

First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.

Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.

Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.

Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.

Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.

Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!

Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…

Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.

Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”

Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”

There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.

I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.

Just a girl who likes girls

I think I’ve known I liked girls since I was 14 but I kind of ignored it, if that makes sense?? I sort of pushed those feelings and ideas away, and tried to be attracted to boys. It’s fair to say that it didn’t work ! I came out to few people at a time, people I could trust but I only told my parents and extented family when I had my first girlfriend. I was 22, so I’m a late bloomer!
And telling my pare nts was hard because I knew they wouldn’t understand and it made them sad ; sad that I wouldn’t live the life they imagined for me and scared I would be seen as “different”. Some people rather blend in and not make waves, but maybe different is cool you know ? It opens up people’s mind and if they make the effort then they can see life from someone’s point of view and sort of grow. In that way representation matters, especially on TV where people how normal queer people are. We are only different from the societal norm but maybe we can just change that norm? How hard could it be to simply accept and embrace our differences ?
This place allows us to be simply ourselves, so thank you for this!
xxx

Kiwi TomBoy

I am a cis female, Lesbian/Queer she/her
When I was very young I always knew I didn’t fit in or feel comfortable with what I was starting to learn was “normal”. I didn’t know why though. I liked sports and I preferred bring with boys, not because I was attracted to them, whatever that meant, but because they got to do all the cool stuff. I was the classic Tomboy. Over the next few years by the time I got to high school in the early 80s in conservative Christchurch NZ , I began to realize there was something else going on, but without the knowledge to figure it all out fully. I went to a very formal all girls school, but only wanted to be friends with a select few. I was an introvert who only came out of my shell when playing sport, and of course I chose softball and cricket, two stereotypically sports dominated by gays. Yeah I know right! Read the room girl!
There had been early crushes but by the time I was about 15 there was one girl who was so different who grabbed my attention right off. Soo baby butch, the older me of course later realized. I just knew I wanted her but also her confidence. However everywhere I went I encountered homophobia even in the sports I played, which to me was scary and confusing, considering how many gays I knew in those arenas. Homosexuality was still illegal in NZ until 1986. Internalized homophobia was looking back at me in the mirror. I always was fighting my mum over my hair and clothing, as I hate dresses and skirts and still do. Even today she hates my short hair. That simple aspect of identity meant it took me too many years to be able to say out loud and proud what I had always suppressed – that I was a Lesbian/Queer and that is my biggest regret. I let the fear rise higher than my bravery.
Once I came out after University and left home, it was like a huge weight had been taken off my chest. I could finally breathe deeply and just be my true authentic self.
Would I do things differently if I could, of course, but cest la vie since I ain’t a Time Lord. I have learnt to live in the moment and be kind firstly to myself, and then to others. I am grateful I took that jump off the metaphorical cliff knowing I would fly or at least glide smoothly to a safe landing and I thank my friendsfor their support. The waves of fear no longer crash over me as I learnt how to run instead. Love of the outdoors gives me peacefulness and mindfulness, the tools of which I am still learning, but I am now happy, healthy. I am definitely still a Tomboy, hopefully a bit more dapper and stylish than the young 10 year old version of me.
Ps I wish I had a show like Wynonna Earp when I was that young teenager but I am so grateful it is there for this generation of queers.

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

From Fear to Pride

According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.

Toni

Hi, my name is Toni I am 13 and I’m Bisexual. I have two very conservative parents who may never support who I am. But, that’s fine with me because I’ve realized over the years that their opinion on my love life doesn’t matter. As long as I’m happy and the person treats me right why should how they identity matter? Being with a woman is a better experience than being with a man. When you’re with a woman, they understand you better, they can relate to all the struggles that come with being a woman. Especially if your a colored queer woman in America. My family has no idea how I feel they won’t accept it but I’ve decided that once I’m 18, I’ll come out to them. That way, they can’t kick me out, by then they can disown me if that’s what they choose, at least I’ll be happy.

As a survivor of 3 years of sexual assault, it’s more common for me to gravitate towards women. It’s ok for me not to be comfortable with a man. Those 3 years of my life were the longest and hardest. It started when I was 7 turning 8 and it ended when I was 11. During the duration of those years, I was very depressed life was so miserable. Then, I meet a girl who changed my point of view of things, she had experienced the same tragedy as me. We were both survivors, we are always there for each other, we make each other smile it’s great. The sad part about the whole thing is the person who ruined my childhood is someone that I will continue to see. My family knows of what happened, but they act like it’s never happened.

Once I came out to the people who genuinely know me, I’ve been living my best life, things have been so amazing, of course, life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows but for the most part, it’s alright. I’ve found out that I’m most happy when talking, thinking, or texting a girl. “Wynonna Earp”, Wayhaught’s relationship is so adorable, even though it’s just a show, Dom and Kat’s relationship is just so beautiful and It makes me think “Wow now that’s the kind of love I want, I want someone to look at me the way they look at each other.”

In all, I hope that what you can take from my little story, is don’t be afraid to be you screw anyone else’s opinion but your own. If they don’t like who you are then it’s their loss, live for yourself and who you want to be, don’t let others live through you.

Pauline, Journey to my true self.

My journey of self acceptance started a long time ago. I was 15 when I suddenly started realizing that I was attracted to both boys and girls, on many different levels. People might think that being born and living in Belgium, it’s easier to accept this part of myself, because LGTBTQ2IA+ have rights here, and in a sense it’s true, but it’s always hard, no matter where you come from.

Growing up, until my 19, I haven’t really seen any positive representation in my personal life, and those 4 years are very important, that’s when you grow the most in my opinion, when you’re supposed to figure out who you want to be. That’s when I started watching what was going on online, in the media. Because I was still questionning myself, a lot. I’d already had strong feelings for another woman and fell in love at that time. This feeling being all new, I was navigating in the unknown. Now I realize that I wasn’t in love with the person but more of the idea if that makes sense ?

But when you’re young and discovering this part of yourself, you dive right in… And along the way you get hurt. I remember being so depressed because, as unhealthy as it was, I needed answers, I was hoping to find them with that woman. Clearly that wasn’t a good idea, you shouldn’t rely on someone to understand you’re trueself.
But then I left for college, and being free and starting over, in a new city.. Going to parties, class, meeting new people and everything that goes with it, kinda opened a new perspective of how I wanted to address this self acceptance, how I wanted to acknowledge it. I had the time I needed, away from what I’ve always known at home.

I was dating a guy at that point, who I was in love with, and I felt safe and had a huge trust in that relationship so at some point, I shared with him that I was bi. And he didn’t take it well, for a few weeks, He was being cold, distant, and kinda offensive towards queer people we saw at parties or at the restaurants.. I never thought he would react like that, clearly I didn’t know him like I thought I did.. I had already grown in the past few months, and I just knew I couldn’t be with someone whou couldn’t accept me, or the community I was part of.

When friends asked me what happened after I told them we broke up, all the anger and disappointment I was feeling just came to the surface. I just told them the truth, just like that. I have really great friends, who are so open-minded and loving, and supportive, they were like “Hell Yeah, So Happy for you”. This break up and my ex behaviour made me realize that actually, I wasn’t the problem. My feelings weren’t the problem at all. But the others who tried to convince me that loving a same sex person was wrong.

From that moment, I just lived my truth. I was getting more informations about representation,what was going on arountd the world about that matter. I was speaking about it to friends, and not being ashamed to say at parties or events “Oooh that girl is beautiful” or “Look at him, so handsome” And I was very comfortable about it. I was dressing up like I wanted too, sometimes it was girly, sometimes boyish. I didn’t care.

And then… I met my first true Love, I was 23. It was at a bachelorette party, and she was my half sister’s best friend ! We automatically got along very well. And I remember having a brilliant time that night, laughing, drinking, talking, dancing. And I never thought, because of previous bad experiences, that she was feeling the same. I knew that she was gay but you know, that doesn’t mean anything. And then on teh wedding day, a few days later, we spent the all day together, always looking for each other when we weren’t together. I had moved to NY and was back for my friend’s wedding so I was leaving a few days later, but we started talking online. And 2 months later, after thousands and thousands of messages, we actually told each other how we were feeling. And we liked each other, a lot, on a profound level. I wasn’t supposed to come back to Belgium for several months, but I did book a ticket to see her, that’s when I knew I needed to come out to my family. I told my cousin, who’s like my sister, and she was so excited for me. Then I told my mom .. And she cried, not because she was disappointed or anything thing, but because I kept all this part of me inside for so long. And then I told my dad, who just said ” Yeah let’s open a bottle of champagne”, and then told to everyone in my family. So it went very well, and deep down I knew they would react like that, but it’s always a challenge to let people know who you truly are.

And 4 years later here I am, living my true authenticity with no shame, being proud of who I am, who I like, being proud to go to parties and flirt with who I want, no matter what people might think.

Pauline