Community Rainbow Waves

Homosexual, Panromantic

I come from a religious family, practically raised in a church. I had gay family and in my head with my teachings that was fine for them to live that way but I could never choose that because it was wrong. I had thought it was a choice. Until the 8th grade when my best friend came out, and slowly through conversations she had made me realize that I too was possibly part of the LGBTQA+ community. Even then some part of my brain desperately wanted to be straight, knowing that my family likely wouldnt accept me. I’d pray and I’d pretend that if I just didnt act on that side of me then it would go away. In high school I became friends with somebody who was pansexual, lots of people actually but this one happened to be a senior while I was a freshman. She asked me very outright while we were alone if I was attracted to females. This came as a shock but I found myself answering yes. Still believing myself to be bisexual. By the end of the year I had wrote a poem about my sexuality, and posted it over Facebook. Surprisingly most people were incredibly supportive. However, my aunt had called to tell me how proud she was of me and ended up outting me to my mother. Who was less than understanding, I was grounded and forbidden from hanging out with friends the night of prom. (She wouldnt allow girls to really sleep over anymore either.) It took until senior year for me to come to terms with and realize that I was just simply not physically attracted to men. Which is when an uncle I had only met as a toddler came up. He came out to my father, and then proceeded to out me. My father is very religious and often used gay, queer, and fag as insults. He never talked to me about it, but I noticed he changed his language around me. When we accidentally ended up in the middle of a pride event he kept bringing up how love is love. I guess subtle support is better than none. My mom still doesnt fully accept it. Over the years I found myself having emotions for guys, but never being able to express them, cause the physical attraction just wasnt there, and I believed it wasnt fair for either me or them to be in that type of relationship. The ones I attempted always tried to get me to be physical with them anyways. It took a lot of time researching the different types of attraction for me to understand who I truly am, and I still dont really discose it unless I am totally comfortable with somebody. Or just dont care how they feel about it.

Robbie

I probably first realised that I was queer when I was about twelve years old but I wasn’t quite aware of it. I was just aware of the fact that I felt different. Then when I was around 14 I met some people who really changed my life and I think they honestly saved my life. They helped me realise myself not by doing anything specific but by just being themselves and embracing me. They helped me be open even when I was so scared. I went to my first ever pride (Exmouth pride in Devon) with them and I was so utterly scared that someone I knew from outside that group of friends might see me but they helped me to enjoy myself and it’ll always be such a treasured memory of mine. The first person I came out to that wasn’t also part of the lgbt+ community was one of my best mates when we were 16 and I can say that it thankfully went unbelievably well. Since then I’ve come out to a lot more people then I ever thought I would at this point in my life. It’s thanks to such incredible representation in the media such as wayhaught that have helped me come to terms with who I am and I can finally feel comfortable with who I am and who I love. It’s a process and I’m still learning, about myself as I tell more and more people. I can honestly say that I wouldn’t be heading to university feeling happy and content if it weren’t for people like you Dominique Who have such courage to stand up and be themselves so to you and everyone in the lgbt+ community I say thank you and to those still struggling, it gets better I promise, so much better.

Queer

I knew from a young age I was attracted to boys and girls. I actually had a Backstreet Boys poster and a Brittany Spears poster up in my bedroom and I thought both were cute. I was living in the Midwest at the time and that was a huge no no in the 90’s. Plus I had gotten teased a ton about my mom and stepdad practicing Tibetan Buddhism. I just went along with the other girls gushing about boys, guy celebrities, and such. I had crushes on boys and girls through school, but I felt I wasn’t gay. The only queer women I had been exposed to were very masculine and I didn’t identify in that way. I left home when I was 16 to move to California. I had met my fathers family for the first time and wanted to get to know them. I got involved in their religion, and while I saw the good, I saw so much of what didn’t align with my true self. I struggled for a few more years. I had a few friends come out to me and I was so happy for them. I knew at this point I was queer, I just couldn’t muster up the strength to come out myself.
I eventually moved to Orange County to reunite with my sister and my mom in 2014. I was 23. My mom always knew and kept trying to practically pull me out of the closet, fear had kept me in and so resistant. Eventually my anxiety for not being myself grew unbearable and I had to change that. So I came out at 23. My family was over the moon. Things started shifting for me. My dads family didn’t talk to me for a long time. Things have changed now, we communicate here and there. After my first serious relationship I have found myself in Massachusetts. While my partner and I went our separate ways for personal growth I find myself drawn to help others in situations like me. Be a light in dark times. That along with a spiritual awakening has held me steadfast my efforts and so inline with myself. I genuinely have love and compassion for others and I’m happy to be me. It’s also motivated me to become vegan and environmentally conscious.
So coming out started this beautiful chain reaction for me and I hope to support and encourage others to do the same.
You all are beautiful beings. Let your light shine bright, you are worth it and you never know when that light shines for others in the dark.

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

It’s all about Genders and Boundaries: When all I feel is Love.

When I was little, my mom always put me in a variety of dresses, which, let’s face it, was never practical for the sporty girl I was.
I was about 10 years old when I ran down the hallway and jumped in my Stepmom’s arms at the end of The TIME OF MY LIFE (Dirty Dancing). And, because I trusted her with all my heart, because I think she picked me blushing when Jennifer Grey would appear on the screen,
The next day, she casually came out as bisexual as if she had just announced the weather. I blushed, chocked on my dinner and avoided my family’s eye contact.
I felt shame. I felt ashamed of the spectrum she had put words upon in such an easy way in front of my wide (queer) eyes open. Because it is what we are taught to avoid: Looking at it in the bright light.
But soon, I felt love. When she taught us about this intimate journey, smoothing the path under my footsteps as if in a look, she knew, that I just started my wild ride towards my inner self.
As I grew up, I started putting on loose clothing, for the easy purpose of being comfortable until it wasn’t a choice anymore. Due to back issues, I wore a corset, 24/7 for 5 years, the exact time of my puberty. I had to shop exclusively in the man section which means, I quickly met judgment, hate and violence from my said friends.
But I had this beautiful light of strength still burning somewhere in me. So, because I had no control over my body or the pain, I decided to cut my hair. I took control and I looked at society, with no woman form, short hair, and surely no confidence and what you can imagine happened. I became a little boy to the eyes of the world. And for a second, it felt simple, I was finally allowed to be attracted to girls too.
Quickly, it felt wrong, I was proud to be a Woman. I wanted everyone to see me as one. I hated that to be myself, I had to be seen as “different”. Still, I was week, young ad broken. So, I grew my hair back an in a way, I gave up. I ran away from every crowd, I feared people noticing me.
Until someone made me realized that I would never shine brighter to MYSELF, being THEIR idea of a woman, if I just disappeared.
She was the first girl of my age with short hair. Unless, she wasn’t staring at the crowd, frightened to be seen differently. So, I asked her, an easy question: “How did you do it?”
And she answered: “Well, I loved it. And if it’s what you love. If you feel yourself when doing it, then screw everybody’s opinion, you’re the one who can write your story.”
The wild journey towards happiness began at this point. Of course, I did cut my hair. And eventually, discovered the power of dressing as you want. Far away from anyone’s expectations, full of colours and patterns, I became the gendered fashion’s tightrope walker. One step in every section, a style in all.
I came out to my family, who were obviously expecting it (especially my stepmom and slowly the rest of them).
I managed to seduce for the past two years, a wonderful, brave and smart woman to stand by my side.
And, Yes,
It is still incredibly frightening, and hard, every day, not to be able to put myself out in the world, without earrings and be misgendered.
But I’m kind to myself. I think I’m pretty great and really, I’m only 18. My whole life is ahead of me, and I don’t know more than 1 per cent of my future self.
What I know is,
I’ll make sure that this 1 big per cent is kind and loving and brings light to other people’s eyes and hearts.
So that one day, I get to sit down at a dinner table and open a new colourful and safe world to a dreamy, blushing, beautiful human being.

Cat

I can’t wait until we’re living in a world where it is safe for everyone to be who they truly are without fear of judgment or persecution. I was raised by two loving but homophobic parents; so while they’ve made me feel like I could be myself in most regards, there’s one place they’ve made me feel like I have to continue living a lie. But even if I have to stay closeted in my everyday life for the time being, I don’t wish to stay fully closeted anymore.

I am a bisexual woman; and honestly, I’m proud of that.

When I was in high school, I started questioning my sexuality. I found myself starting to feel attracted to girls at my school and not just guys. But because of the home I was raised in, I did everything in my power to push such feelings aside, telling myself they didn’t mean anything. I refused to acknowledge them. And eventually, I was able to convince myself they never existed in the first place… Fastforward to college; and the feelings came back again, this time stronger. I found myself attracted to other women; and I knew it was something I couldn’t fully deny. I think deep down I admitted to myself that I wasn’t entirely straight; but I wasn’t ready to admit what that meant.

Over the past year or so, I started discovering myself more and more. It actually started when a friend suggested I check out this show called Wynonna Earp. This friend knew I preferred supernatural sorts of shows with powerful female leads (like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Lost Girl, etc.); so of course I was fully on board with checking out this show. Little did I know, it would change my life for the better. Becoming an Earper, I now found myself part of one of the most accepting and supportive fandoms I’ve ever been a part of. Between that and being introduced to one of the most kickass casts ever, I started feeling more comfortable in my own skin with everything from my anxiety to my sexuality. Even though I still never admitted anything aloud, I started to feel more and more comfortable admitting to myself that I was, in fact, bisexual.

I hope to one day be able to share this fact with those closest to me, to one day feel as if I am safe enough and truly ready to do so. But for now, having a platform like this to announce who I truly am, it’s a blessing. Thank you to Dominique and everyone at Start the Wave for all the constant love and positivity. It means so much; and I am proud to be part of this community.

And one day, I will be proud to come back on here to say I am 100% out…

Progression not Perfection from a gay mormon

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND VIOLENCE.

My journey is far from over, stalled out yes but not over…not yet. I was born and raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons-not the polygamist version). When I look back over my life, I realize that I felt different, broken…a mistake when I was 3 or 4. Going through life, church every Sunday, church activities almost every evening, seminary in the mornings…year after year. I tried so hard to be just like everyone else. But I felt something for women that I didn’t feel for men…while I didn’t understand what any of those feelings meant I knew I needed to keep my secret…a secret I didn’t even know about. I didn’t meet anyone who was gay until I was 21-ish and still had no idea I could be gay until I was 24 or so. Xena was the first suggested gay anything I had ever known. I fought against it so hard, I was always the “tomboy” and hated with a passion when someone would call me gay. As if at that time I even knew what gay was, I just knew that you couldn’t be gay and be in the church. You can’t go to heaven unless you marry in the temple. I had to be straight but I hated the idea of being with a man. After all, men were the ones who told me what I could do with my body, men were the ones that used my body before I ever knew what my body was for. But women were safe, soft and caring. I fell in love with my best friend in 1st grade but had no idea at the time what I was. Who I am. Just that I had to keep it a secret. I tried killing myself in high school…for a lot of reasons really, but mostly because I felt and had learned that I was a mistake, that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t normal. But I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted. My junior year of college I met gay people for the first time, and suddenly life started making sense. Their stories were like mine, the confusion, the loss and the horrible lonely ache of feeling like you can’t be you. At that time though, only church members were really in my life…when they started suspecting I was kicked out of two separate housing locations, I lost my all of my friends. All of them. It wasn’t hard coming out to my mom, bless her soul she has loved me and supported me even when I hate myself. She is the only reason I exist now. Dad, well…I’ve blocked most of it out but remember him with a steak knife. The majority of my family loves the sinner but hates the sin. I’ve been fired from jobs for being gay. I’ve been beaten up, called names, spit at and threatened…but I can’t change who I am. I still feel like a mistake, either waiting to die or waiting for life to start…and while I have no idea what actually happens in the afterlife…I know that I live with integrity. I help those less fortunate than me, I help lost and abandoned animals, I give to charities and I work with some of the most challenging of clients in my professional life…I’m not gloating, not puffing my chest. Just saying that I’m being me, all of me. I am gay. I love women. I love helping others. I firmly believe that if we do our best every day, no matter what the best looks like…that maybe God/the universe will understand that I am the way I was made as God intended. Yes, I still feel broken, lost and a mistake…and if being gay keeps me from heaven, then sadly I admit okay. I cannot change who I am any more than I can change my blood type. I cannot change my faith even if my church hates me. Coming to terms with yourself is not a destination, it is a journey and I am far from the end. Yes some days are better than others, and some days I am a victim to my own mind but this I promise…I will never give up my integrity as a good human. An empath. A gay Mormon. Had God wanted me different, then I would be different. No matter where you are in your journey…know others have been there. While the steps are not the same, the feelings are. Don’t let anyone steal your shine. You are worth it. Every little bit. You are worth it and so much more. Be at peace and know you are loved. <3 Deb

On my way, hoping to get there soon… kd

I guess I always knew way back when I was a kid, but I had no idea what it was and why I felt that way. I just wasn’t what was deemed “normal”. I started acknowledging it for myself as I was going through adolescence and all throughout college and then sort of embraced it after graduation. But to be honest, I still don’t feel safe or free – as I wish I could be – to declare my truth. To some I am able to tell them, while to most I keep quiet… either way, I am never without fear of being rejected or seen differently, like I become a different person from the one they’ve come to know as soon as I confirm what they probably already thought. I still fear that I will never be taken seriously professionally or deserving of the same respect as a person just because of who I am. I am still afraid but I am also hopeful that one day, I’d get there – where I am free to just be me and no longer afraid.

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 te 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.