Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

When I was fourteen I came out to my mother after I’ve been pretty sure that I was gay for a year or so. But she reacted the total opposite way of what I was expecting… saying that “it’s just a phase and I was too young to know stuff like this, I just haven’t met the right boy yet.” And that I was “lucky she wasn’t goint to tell my father about it.” Skipping to 2019, as I finally had the guts to institutionolize myself into a psychiatry after almost ten years of major mental health issues, I tried to be brave once again and come out to my mother. She apologized for the way she reacted back then and fully supports me in every desicion I make in my new out and proud life. It’s partly thanks to you, Dominique, and all the other actors who represented the queer community during this tough period of my life, that I am still alive today and grateful for every day I have on this earth. <3

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

Samantha – Homoromantic Demisexual – She/Her/Hers

My story takes place in Texas, commonly known as one of the least open-minded states in the United States. My story is a long one, as my identity evolved drastically through time. I am blessed, however, to have grown up in a very loving and accepting family. I’ve known members of the LGBTQ2IA+ community my whole life, yet I never really considered it for myself until I was around 16. As a kid everyone would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up and I would stay silent because there’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted to be. Happy. At 16 I had no idea who I was and how could I be happy when I didn’t even know what or who I wanted in life. I honestly didn’t have much to go off of, I’d never had so much as a crush on anyone, regardless of gender. I credit much of my realization to the love I have for television. At 16 I would watch pairings like Clarke and Lexa from the 100 and it helped me to accept the fact that maybe I was gay. I say that like I was just like “Yep, I’m gay” but honestly I just felt like I needed to put a label on myself and although “gay” didn’t really feel like it fit who I was completely, I didn’t really know what else I could be. I could imagine myself in a relationship with a woman in a way that, to this day, I cannot imagine with a man. And honestly, the thought terrified me. Society can be cruel, as can my mind. I began to ask myself if the “unconditional” love my parents had for me was truly that, or if I would lose everything and everyone I love in one fell swoop by coming out. I mentally weighed the options countless times and basically began to prepare for the worst. Family and friends have always been the most important thing in my life and therefore, I decided that I if I could save my relationships by waiting for the “perfect moment” then that’s what I would do. Fear cost me a year of my life and I quickly learned that the perfect moment does not exist. So I decided to do what I do best, and write it down. See I’ve tried the in person coming out thing and call me a coward, but I am not built for the extra level of stress and anxiety it gave me. So a week after my 17th birthday, I came out to my parents as gay via college application. I don’t think I’ll ever forget holding my breath as they read over my shoulder, nor will I forget the silence that seemed to last forever before my mother sat next to me, turned towards me, and asked…”so you really never want to see men naked????” I laughed and the anxiety began to fade, even if the label wasn’t a perfect fit. I knew it was just the first step to coming out, but I had at least gotten through it alive. Though the inaccuracy of the label I had given myself still bothered me. That’s when I turned to research. So. Much. Research. Why didn’t I experience crushes the same way that other people did? Why did I not care at all about sex in a society that was seemingly obsessed with it? That same week I came across AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, and began to read. I cried. They were describing me. Until that moment I had never heard of asexuality, it was so far off my radar and I quickly learned just how far off everyone else’s radar it was too. Cut to 18 year old me entering college for the first time. At this point I had come out to my immediate family. Again. And a select few of my friends. I had also been told by various people that people like me “shouldn’t exist” or that it was just a phase I would grow out of. I learned how common it was for asexual people to feel broken or even inhuman. People often assume that due to our sexuality, we don’t have emotions or the capacity to love or be loved. A cruel assumption but one that still occasionally plagues my feeling of self-worth. Despite these social pressures however, I entered college wanting nothing more than to be out and proud in this new place with all these new people. For the most part I was, though I knew that for every acquaintance I told, there was a family member that should’ve heard it from me first. So once again, I wrote it down. At 19, I came out on instagram and the same week I mailed 7 coming out letters and just like that, I was out to the world. The most stressful week of my life freed me. I was able to finally live my life as the emotional burden began to lift. Never have I been prouder of myself than in that moment. The 3 year journey led me to finally feeling seen and comfortable with who I am. Flashing forward to my life now as a 20 year old, my journey continues towards self-love. And although the state of the world worries me, I can honestly say that sitting down with my parents during this quarantine and watching Wynonna Earp, I really feel, for the first time in a very long time, happy. #OutIsTheNewIn

Queer Woman

I first questioned my sexuality in high school, after I dumped this boy I was dating because I just wasn’t feeling it. I got home from school and told my mum about it and out of nowhere she asked me if I was gay. I had never encountered the idea, but as soon as that question was asked, the closet door opened a smidge for me. It was abruptly slammed shut again when my mum followed up her question with “well you better not be, I’d have to disown you”. I figured that it was a possibility but thinking that I liked guys, it was probably better not to look into it.

I moved out and went away for university and continued to suppress it. I had a lot of great guy friends and they loved to roast me with lesbian jokes, so all I wanted was to prove them wrong and I really didn’t want my mum to be right so I put a lot of energy into hiding away. I saw these amazing confident queer women in uni and instead of seeking freedom I suffocated myself with thoughts about the shame and shut down further out of fear. I turned to alcohol to take my mind off and when that started screwing with my health, I focussed on my fitness, trying to literally run away from my queerness. I tried to enjoy staying single and resolved that I could get love in other ways because I had great friends. I decided that it was better for me to just be alone than to deal with coming out. I was wrong. I thought it would be easy, but I knew who I was and was still so deeply unhappy knowing that I’d never get a shot at what I actually wanted.

That all changed when my sister was diagnosed with cancer. She is 4 years younger than me (and in remission now), and at the time it immediately made me realize that life was too short not to live it in full colour. Between visits to her in the hospital I coped by trying to date again. I met a lot of great people, but something instantly clicked everything into place for me with one woman in particular. I lied and tried to hide it for a while but as my connection with her grew stronger it became impossible. I started by telling one person.. then my sisters, then just spilling all the beans to all of my closest friends after a few drinks on my 25th birthday. By the time I told my mum I was confident I’d be ok because I had other great support, but she ended up being so amazing about it. All of the fear and shame about how people would react was all in my head, everyone was so happy to see me actually happy. I never would have predicted 6 years ago that I’d be where I am today. I am BLISSFULLY married to that woman, out and proud with the love of my life, hopefully for the rest of my life. Don’t shut away what’s in your heart or parts of yourself for anyone or anything. You are not alone, and you are loved, and I am here with y’all. Living your truth may not always be easy, but I promise it’ll light the path for a bright future for you. Peace, love and rainbows

I am Charlie, a queer trans male.

I have been misgendered from a very young age.

Whether it was a stranger seeing a boy but being told that I was a girl or by my parents who only ever knew me as a female. Then came my next identity crisis. In primary school, I also had my first crush on a girl which created a new bunch of questions that I didn’t know whom to ask. I hadn’t been taught about the vast spectrum of genders and to the extent that I had a sense of sexuality it was faint at best.

I have always been lucky to be surrounded by people who support me and have loved me for whoever I want to be. However even at the tender age of 11, I was well aware that the world around me was not always going to have my back. This fear of whether or not I would be accepted for who I am kept me from yelling from the rooftops how I felt and how I wanted to look.

I went to a girl’s school in Melbourne, Australia. While this only further awaked my sexuality, it did nothing to help with my doubts over who I was. As a 14-year-old I never felt more different to everyone else around me than when I was at school play acting at being a girl surrounded by other teenagers who were definitely female. Yet due to the limited education that I had received about the gender spectrum I only felt alienated and different, without the comfort of having an identity that I could cling to. Believing that there are only two genders in the world, boy and girl, and that you are what you are born as, sent me to a terrifying and dark place.

Even so, I had the comfort that my friends were supportive of me when I came out as queer. I was so shocked when they shrugged and moved on like it was a completely normal thing, I had to ask them if they had heard what I said. Every LGBT story I had ever read led me to believe that I would receive a negative reaction. However, I believe I have been lucky for my parents were the same, reacting with joy and support.

Later, I discovered the gender spectrum and I have never been more relieved. I found a place that I could home and an identity that I could feel comfortable in.

You would think that after coming out once, a second time would be like a piece of cake. Unfortunately, it was even harder. Before I had known my parents friend who were queer. They had been over for dinner and they had tucked me into my bed. Although I wasn’t certain, I wasn’t too worried. Now I was about to tell them that the daughter they had known for years could no longer be their daughter. Perhaps blurting it out at the dinner table ten minutes before our favourite tv show started wasn’t the best idea but they couldn’t have been more supportive.

Although, with my parents I am now in a place where I can talk to them comfortably about me being their son, I have not reached that level of comfortableness outside, in the real world. It is the sad truth that we do not live in a world where every single person is guaranteed to support you. But from my experience so far, there are many people out there who have my back. As someone who is still afraid to go to public toilets, stutters out that they are girl when questioned in the female bathroom but is too scared that they might be thought of as a fraud in the male bathrooms, I applaud those who stand strong and say I don’t care what the world thinks, this is me and I am proud. As a person who does not correct my grandmother when she calls me Sophie, even though my name has been Charlie for three years, I read Dom’s message and I smile, for a person who I have looked up to for so long has stood up and paved the way for many people to truly be themselves.

With the courage from Dom’s coming out, I stand here and I yell from the rooftops that I am a Queer Trans Male and I could not be more proud of who I am.

#OutIsTheNewIn

A gay young woman

This is the story of how coming out changed my life.

I was 16 years old and a junior in high school in the close-minded region of small town, Texas. I grew up a tomboy, with seven older brothers and a single, survivor of a mother, never wanting to be the damsel-in-distress or victim of the story. It was when I got a little bit into my teen years that I realized embracing the feminine side of myself didn’t make me weaker or less than at all. That’s what my mother taught me.

My beautiful, strong, hair-brained, peachy pink nails-for-days mother. I remember the night she looked at me with that stubborn spark in her eye and told me, “you’re gonna break the cycle, baby girl”. She wanted more for me than that somber cycle of violence I watched her go through growing up, that she watched her mother go through. I remember feeling empowered. I remember thinking to myself that I wouldn’t let her down and I would never apologize for being who I was.

Well, needless to say I carried that experience and many more like it into my years of high school. The first few of which I was rather awkward (naturally), all converse and band t-shirts, but all the while unapologetically myself. Social norms weren’t my thing and I really didn’t care about impressing anybody. I kept mostly to myself and my small circle of friends. Beside theater, I kept mostly out off extra-curricular activities as well, which looking back on I do regret.

Up until this point I had only dated boys and only ever thought of myself as straight. I mean, of course I knew queer people and would (rarely) see a queer character on a tv show or movie that I’d watched, but I never thought of myself that way. It never, ever occurred to me that there was a reason I never really felt that spark when I kissed guys, never felt 100% myself when I was in relationships. I thought maybe it was just because I was young and needed more experience, I thought it was normal.

Junior year is when things started to change. I met a girl. Cheesy as hell, I know, but true. And I guess “met” isn’t the right word. We’d known each other since the 8th grade but our only interaction consisted only of harmless banter in passing. Friends of friends and in completely different social circles. She was a cheerleader. She did beauty pageants and coached gymnastics to kids on the weekends. She was gorgeous and funny and smart. In other words, she was on the other fucking end of the spectrum in relation to where I was. Me, the girl who read books in the back through 90% of my classes, played guitar in a garage band, drove a motorcycle to school and had to physically restrain myself from answering every question ever with a sarcastic one-liner. We shouldn’t have had anything in common… At least, that’s what I thought.

We got a bit closer Junior year, having an advanced English class together, and it was in that class I started to realize little miss perfect didn’t exactly have it all. It was obvious she was struggling with something at home that was weighing on her.

Later that semester she eventually confided in me that she was gay. She told me she’d been with girls before and when her parents found out it was bad. They sent her to church camp. Made her shut that shit down so hard the light went missing from her. I remember how much it hurt my heart to see it. We became even closer after that, as you do, and the fact that I knew she was gay brought a few things to my attention:

Like the way she looked at me.

Or the way I felt when she looked at me.

And I was suddenly very interested in watching movies and tv shows about lesbians. It was like I desperately needed to see myself in something that could validate what I was feeling. Like I needed to see that I didn’t have to act a certain stereotypical way to be feeling the way I was. Where I could see a gay character that wasn’t one dimensional. That showcased a variety of authentic gay relationships that weren’t pervy or flat. And when I did find shows like that, it made all the difference in the world. #WayHaught

By that point I was in full gay panic. I was sorta kinda dating this guy who wasn’t even horrible but definitely didn’t make me feel the way she did and I did not know what to do with this new information about myself. Was I gay??? Did I like her??? Suddenly I was spiraling into a void of self-doubt and fear with a dash of excitement and hope. I didn’t exactly know what I was going to do, but the answers came soon enough…

We decided to have a sleepover with my best friend and watch Girltrash the movie (if you haven’t seen it you’re missing out, it’s literally about lesbians in a rock band AND it’s a musical). Anyway, so there we were. Laying next to each other in my bed. My best friend was asleep by that point, or at least we thought she was at the time (we found out later she wasn’t actually asleep but didn’t want to ruin our moment so shout out to her, thanks for being a homie). Meanwhile, I was painfully aware of every breath I made. Every move. I was finding it extremely difficult to keep my eyes on the tv. Finally, after sitting through the entire movie in a state of stomach-turning anticipation, the protagonists in the movie had their climatic kissing scene and all I remember is her turning to me with this smirk on her face and asking me, “so are you gonna kiss me or what?”

So I did.

And a fundamental shift took place inside me at that moment, like a light finally getting turned on after years in the dark or a giant puzzle piece clicking into place. It was easy. It was carefree. It was scary, sexy, and safe all at the same time. It was in that moment, making out with a cheerleader in my lap, that for the first time I thought… I am SO fucking gay.

Now I’m definitely not saying we lived happily ever after and that was that. No, high school is never that easy. We had a very intense run that was destined for failure simply due to the fact that she could never be fully out and openly gay due to her family. She ended up moving to the city and a different school, and being my first love of course I thought we should keep trying anyway and well, it just didn’t work out.

I have some very dark self-reflective memories from back then, as well as some really beautiful ones with her. All in all I’m extremely grateful for the experience and for that girl, who had such a crucial role in helping me discover myself, and a truly hope she’s doing well these days. After all, if it wasn’t for that self-realization, I never would have come into my own the way I did at the end of high school.

During my senior year I finally decided to act and compete in theater instead of just being behind the curtain. I became the mascot because why the fuck not? I ran for homecoming queen as a joke and actually won. I was friends with anyone from any side of the social spectrum and I graduated high school in a much more positive place than I started.

Because after everything that had happened, I completely and utterly embraced being a girl and being gay. Everything just made so much more sense. Why couldn’t I be all the things that made me feel more, well, me? Like guitar, leather jackets, makeup, and motorcycles? Coming out completely changed my take on life. I didn’t just come out of the closet, I came out of my shell.

Now at almost 22 years old, I’ve done things I never would have thought I’d have the courage to do. I survived the death of my mother, something I thought surely would have killed me. I learned to support myself completely. I started a career as a 911 dispatcher. My band recently went to the studio to record our first EP and have shows lined up later this year. I decided to stop being so scared all the time, that if I’m being true to myself and who I am, it doesn’t matter if I fail at times. I’ve continuously kept trying to do what makes me happy and the results have been boundless. I’ve learned SO much about who I want to be and the positive impact I want to make in this world. All because I was completely, truly, and still unapologetically me.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, have a nice life nerds, and don’t forget to love yourself!

Artist Lesbian

I knew I was lesbian at a ripe age of 4.
But I was in a school full of homophobic kids so the only way to fit in was to “act straight”. Did that for eleven years but through those tough times, I got sexually abused by males my age (groped, used as a sex iconand even blackmailed). It has left me scarred – mentally, physically and socially.

I have always been an anxious person but I needed to break out of this shell.
Imagine I am a cattipillar (or however you spell it) stuck in a cocoon: it wants to open up and reveal its true beauty but it can’t because of the walls in its way.

I did identify as pansexual, but that was when I was in a relationship with a boy. I feared my parents would tell him that I was lesbian so I had to come up with something to hide away that thought.

It was until I went to Snowdonia, Wales (a VERY odd place to debate on your sexuality), I started having spontaneous crushes on women. I couldn’t help but think about them non-stop.
Even the word “women” made my heart flutter.

Edging to June 2019, I was slowly getting confident. My boyfriend split up with me as he thought I seemed “different”. But the thing was, he was right.
I was different.
How could a 16 year old autistic female fall in love with another women despite being in a relationship with a male?

It came to my last full day at my secondary school and I came out.
The cocoon disappeared.
My wings had grown.
I felt blissful. I felt complete.

It was my last words at that school too, and I always look back at that and think as to how far I have become.

Back to when I used to “act straight”, all fell for it.
Does that mean I deserve an Oscar? I betta.

These following people helped me come out with all my might:
Daisy Ridley
Kat Barrell
Dominique Provost-Chalkley
Cara Delevingne
Ruby Rose
My family
Some fictional characters like Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp, Rey, Viola Eade, Thirteenth Doctor, Jyn Erso
You

So when someone says: “how have you come so far?”
I will tell them this story.

Just you wait for me to appear on the big screen, portraying a character who has gone through the same things as me.
I will credit all of you when I walk on the red carpet.

There’s a million things I haven’t done.
But just you wait…

Just you wait.

– H.L Good, a proud lesbian

#OutIsTheNewIn

I am a bisexual female.

I think I knew in 7th grade. There was a girl named Sarah that I thought was pretty but I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t fully explain. Looking back now I definitely liked her and wanted to be with her. There have been plenty of times since then where I’ve questioned whether I was a lesbian or not. I still struggle with that at times, especially because I think, maybe even more-so than any other identification, bisexual is the most often considered a “phase” so it’s been extremely hard ein okay living in that so-called “phase” space. I am truly and completely attracted to both women and men, but I wouldn’t identify as pansexual either. I am 100% about people being comfortable in their own skin, I just don’t find myself romantically drawn to transgender people. Coming out to my friends was easy because I surround myself with loving and accepting people. But my parents to this day still do not know.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

A queer work in progress

I had become aware of my queerness very early on, when I found myself wanting to kiss girls and not really understanding why. The thought immediately terrified me, due to many of the surrounding messages I had around the topic. Many of my extended family members are devoutly religious, and believe the traditional viewpoints on sexuality. That was the platform they used to deny the existence of such people. To deny my own existence to me before I was even aware.

With my parents, the story was different. I grew up in a agnostic household, neither my mom or dad practicing in anything. So these experiences of homophobia somehow stung even worse. My experience with my father has been better, but the experience with my mother has proven much more difficult. I was always aware of her general disgust over “those people” and that negative reinforcement crept in very early on.

The peak of our issues occurred in June of 2020. I had already been out to my parents, and basically the world. I was out as bisexual, but at the time I was experimenting with other terms to see what felt best. I was struggling with the authenticity of my attraction to men, as well as experiencing internalized bi-phobia. Basically, I was in a spot where I wasn’t sure where my sexuality best fit. So, I personally landed on queer. After reading about Dom’s experience, I grew to like using the term queer as my label. Queer, to me, feels liberating and doesn’t limit the type of people I can love. It opens up the option for my sexuality to be fluid and grow with me over time. I love all terms and find them all to be valid, but with time queer just became the best fit for me. Ultimately, I got a pride themed tattoo and identified and queer publicly, in celebration of my two year coming out anniversary.

My mother did not like the change. I had told her about the tattoo and the label, and explained that I wasn’t sure where I stood with my attraction to men. She grew distant, and I confronted her about the silence. Ultimately, she told me “I never wanted my daughter to be a lesbian.” This obviously triggered a visceral reaction within me, striking as the inevitable finale to all her homophobic undertones.

After the worst had passed, there has been brighter days. My mother and I are on decent terms, but my sexuality is a topic we just don’t address anymore. My dad will address my queerness occasionally but I can still sense the discomfort.

Apart from my parents and most of my extended family, I have received nothing but immense support and love from friends and some family members. I have also been supported substantially by seeing great representation in the world around me, such as Dom’s work on Wynonna Earp and with Start The Wave. This gracious support has helped me move on from the harsh words of others, to experience myself authentically and grow into my own. A growth I am still working on to this day. As a 22 year old, I still work with and struggle with finding comfort in my sexuality. Feelings fluctuate as I change as a person over time, so my discovery of who I am is a constant work in progress. I learn about myself everyday, and how I am meant to live this life.

At the end of the day, I am me. In all of my authentic, queer ways. I’m learning to see all parts of myself and accept them with open arms. For now, I find comfort in the unknown. Terrifying, yet forever liberating.

Thank you.