Community Rainbow Waves

No Labels, Just Love

As a young child, I was kind fascinated by lesbian relationships on tv; Bad Girls (UK), All Saints (Aus), The L Word (USA) etc. etc., but this was all on the downlow. I’d watch the shows with little to no interest during the day and devour fanfiction stories about them by night. I had some instances of “experimentation” with a friend or two, but that didn’t mean what I thought it meant, did it? I went to secondary school, had no boyfriends, stuck with my fanfiction, and found “hot male celebrities” to “have a crush on” to balance the “girl crushes” I had. In my mind, I was totally chill with this me who ~has crushes on men and women~, but in person? I didn’t talk about it with anyone; I was scared because I didn’t want to hurt people, upset them, lose them.

In year 10 (UK age 14/15), my social circle expanded and grew to include a girl my best friend had met in another class, L. She and I quickly became close friends and it was great, until I heard that L and her childhood best friend had ‘messed around together’. Here my brain was like “wowww, another non-straight girl like me!”. I became slightly obsessed, I’ll admit. L was my best friend but she’d flirt with me; call me sexy specs while having a boyfriend, snuggle up with me then go and see him. I thought I was in love with her. I eventually grew a pair, picked my self respect up off the floor and walked away from that hot mess.
After a while, I met a guy friend at work and we became really close, like brother and sister. One night we were chatting and he came out to me as bi, so I did the same back. It fit at the time, but it was also the easy way out; it was a label and not a label. He helped me to be open about not being straight in a way I’d never been able to before and I’m still so grateful for that. We eventually found Tumblr and it gave us a place to “be honest in a sea of strangers”; it changed my life, quite literally.

On Tumblr, I met a girl. This girl became my friend, then my best friend, then so much more. She was like nothing I’d ever met before, made me feel things in technicolour and UV. She taught me it was okay to be me, to be different, to be honest and feel the things I felt. She was the reason I came out, the reason I wanted to come out. The day we met in London, I left my mum a letter explaining about me, about us, and that I had made arrangements for somewhere else to stay if she wasn’t okay with me any more. Half an hour away from London on the train I received a text from my mum telling me that we were okay, she was okay, and that she loved me. That was now eight years ago, and that girl is currently sitting next to me on our sofa, in our home, the day after our eighth anniversary.

Coming out is something I do every time I meet someone new, but it doesn’t have to be a huge declaration. I used to be petrified about it; my heart rate would spike, I’d get sweaty palms, I’d be all stuttery and lame about it. But now? “Yeah, I live with my girlfriend.” “Me and my girlfriend went there”. “I went to visit my mum with my girlfriend”. The other day, I was asked at work if I was a gay woman (due to my rainbow lanyard, not out of the blue!). Even a year or two ago, that question would have sent me into a panic. But this day, I held my head up, kept eye contact and said “yeah, I am”.

I still don’t really like labels or definitions but: I am a woman in love with another woman and that is okay.

Painfully Beautiful

I went into fifth grade with the greatest belief that everything would be amazing. I was hoping to make many new friends and become someone that was independent for the first time. I was hoping for so many things, and got none of them. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life. It was a year that pushed me to the edge of everything and left me belittled and scared for what was going to come next.
The truth is that people often believe that fifth graders don’t have a good idea about who they are, what they like, or who they like. However, I was different. I can confidently say that fifth grade was the year that I realized that I was a bit unusual. I looked at boys with a fond eye, which is what I believed was normal, so when I first looked at a girl with that same eye, I became apprehensive. I wasn’t sure why I felt the same way and I didn’t know that what I was about to do would spark something horrible.
I walked up to this girl that I saw differently and told her, point blank, that I had feelings for her. I even remember writing her a poem and giving it to her as she stood outside of her locker. Nothing that I had done felt out of the ordinary, but as soon as someone noticed my gesture, all hell broke loose. The word got around very quickly that I was a lesbian. My classmates talked about me and laughed. They wouldn’t let me sit by them at lunch or be in their group for a project. At recess I walked alone, anxiously staring at a group as they continued to talk about me. I had never felt so isolated and alone, most of all, I had never felt so depressed. I, at the age of ten, considered taking my life. The pain that I felt kept building up and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that kept me alive was my family.
Now, my family didn’t actually know that any of this was going on. Every day, I would leave my house with a smile on my face and come home with that same exact smile. My parents and two sisters had no knowledge of anything that was going on at school. They didn’t know that I would go into my room and contemplate why I should continue fighting and not just give up. However, if there is anything worse than what the kids were saying about me, making my parents cry would be cause the biggest pain in my heart. I could never hurt myself in a way that would leave them asking why I did something or cause them to wonder if they were the reason. Despite all of the pain that I felt throughout fifth grade, I would never leave this world for the fear that my parents would be left alone in it.
Denial was the only way that I made it out of fifth grade. I denied all of the events that had occurred and stepped right back into the figurative closet that has been created for people like me. Now, as a junior in college, I am more open with people about my sexuality. I have the biggest and best support system around me and could not be more thankful. I look at life through a new lens, filled with hope for anyone like me. I look back at fifth grade and hate it in so many regards, however, I also look at it and believe that who I am today would not be a possibility without those events. I believe that everyone deserves to be happy and I will never disregard someone for a belief or aspect of their life. I have also come to accept who I am as a person and I am no longer scared. I was so close to the edge with nobody near. Now, if I ever become close to that edge again, I know I will have multiple people behind me ready to help.

Kimberly, Cisgender, Lesbian, she/her

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

Lesbian out and proud finally

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

When I came across this website, I had no intention of posting my story but reading this particular paragraph written by Dominique P-C “milestones appear when I take the time to observe what does and does not bring me happiness and then having the courage to make the changes in my life to align that which isn’t working” it made me realize I haven’t been as happy as I could be so it was time to sit back, take inventory of my life and take the time to realign myself.
I first realized I was a lesbian when o was 12. I noticed I tended to gravitate toward one female friend at a time and found myself disappointed when they developed relationships with boys. I suppressed this for a long time. I thought I can’t be gay. While I was realizing my sexual orientation my parents got divorced. It became easier to suppress because both my parents got remarried. You can only imagine the fear I had coming out when my mom married a physically abusive man who said we couldn’t bring home an African American never mind being gay. My dad married a woman who was a faithful Roman Catholic and my father also started practicing faithfully at this time. My step mom to this day is very emotionally and mentally abusive person. As I sat through church every Sunday knowing this religion believed I should go to hell for being gay, you can only imagine the fear I had wanting to come out to them.
As high school went on, I did everything I could do to please my parents. I graduated 4th in my class, volunteered, worked, and played sports and did what I thought all parents wanted. I was met with a mom who didn’t show up for one game or award ceremony. She told me I would never get into college, let alone be a nurse. I ended up getting into the best college in the northeast of the US. This is when my sexuality as a lesbian crept back up. This is when I started my drug and alcohol endeavour to suppress those feelings. I thankfully retained things well and could pull off good work at the last minute. I did what my mom said I couldn’t do and graduated on the dean’s list and got my nursing degree and license.
I immediately left home after this to get an apartment with friend and my lesbian instincts were in high gear at this point. All my life I had something to prove to get acceptance from my parents. I had no one to prove anything to anymore and was left with my own feelings. I became an alcoholic. I functioned and went to work but that was the only time I was sober. It happened to be one of those drunken nights when I finally said out loud I am a lesbian. It felt like a weight had been lifted and I could finally breath.
When I told my parents they were receptive at first, but as time goes on the tune has changed. I ended up meeting the love of my life, who I am now proud to call my wife. I remember our first date we went to the beach and stayed there all night til 4am because we didn’t want to leave each other. I knew that night I wanted to be with her the rest of my life. She had her own struggles including being hospitalized with cystic fibrosis (a chronic lung conditon) and pancreatitis. Despite the obstacles with her illnesses, I knew that night I was all in. Hearing her stories while hospitalized including coding and being brought back to life was incredible. She is the strongest woman i have ever met to endure what she has had to endure. We habe spend weeks on the hospital at a time, to be home for a week to be back in the hospital for weeks at a time again. The past 5 years we have been lucky enough to have no hospitalizatons. In have spent an amazing 7 years with my wife. She is strong, resilient, honest, faithful, loving, caring, compassionate, beautiful, smart, and puts everyone else first despite what she has been through. She is extroidinary.
My family “accepted us” at first, to later be met with comments like if you were a boy I wouldn’t be comfortable with you being gay or you and your wife don’t bother me because you don’t show affection in front of us. It is sad to know I can’t show affection to my wife in front of my family. I am sick of hiding what makes me happy and it is my relationship with my wife.
My wife put up with a lot to be with me. She helped me deal with my alcoholism. When I first met her, I could suppress the alcoholism but it eventually came out roaring and my wife almost left me due to the decisions I made while drunk all the time besides work. I am proud to say I have been sober for a year and a half with her help. She has helped me help myself become a better, stronger, smarter, honest and more caring person. She helped me become a better nurse. I can’t thank her enough. I put in the work with lots of therapy and I did it for me and on my own, but couldn’t habe done it without her support.
It is sad to know I can’t be myself around my family. They are also big drinkers and now that I am sober, the one thing I had in common with them disappeared. I no longer fit in and they don’t understand I am a different but better person sober. It is sad to know I can’t love my wife openly and honestly without judgment or feeling the need to hide who I am.
This being said in the time of COVID 19 the safety of my wife has never been more important where she is immunocompromised with a lung condition. This made me realize I need to take a step back and look at the things I do have and not the things I don’t have. I have very loving in-laws who are now my family. My wife’s extended family also took me ad if I was one of their own. I may not have the support of my family, but I have a family with my wife’s family. They love me and us as a couple unconditionally. We live simple, a good over our heads, food in the cupboard, and money to do fun things now and then, but most importantly we have each other and this beautiful love we have created.
The long and short of it is, I am no longer letting my parents affect how I love my wife from this point forward thanks to this safe place to post and read other’s stories. I am going to love my wife openly and honestly from this point forward and not be afraid of who I am. I am a lesbian woman madly in love with the woman of my dreams, my soulmate and I am not going to let anyone dictate that. I am going to continue to provide care for my patients as a nurse and do my best to keep them safe and to keep my wife safe as I along with many others continue to fight COVID 19. I am going to be my true, sober authentic self. I am going to be brave and strong and not be afraid to love my wife openly, honestly, and freely despite what my parents or this world thinks. I spent too much time hiding and I am not hiding anymore. We only get so much time on this earth to love others and treat everyone the way they should be treated no matter religion, race, sexual orientation, etc. With my wife chronically ill, it became abundantly clear that the time on this earth is short and you don’t know how long you have with the love of your life, so that being said I and going forth loving my wife freely, openly and honestly for the rest of my life.

Happiness

I started to realise I liked girls when I was around 11 years old. Before that age, I’d had crushes on girls but not really known they were crushes. I thought I just wanted to look like those girls or be best friends with them. But that wasn’t the case. My mother would often call me a “dyke” if I wore certain clothes that she thought to be too masculine etc. I was very much a tomboy. She’d tell me “people will think you’re gay” and that scared me a little bit. Where I lived, a lot of people were assaulted because they were gay. I even had people would call me gay like it was a bad thing, like it was a hateful word and so I accepted it as that. That was until I told my friend that I believed I liked girls and she told me she also felt that way. My whole life I’d only ever heard bad things said about the community. But with this friend, I finally didn’t feel alone. Before telling my friend, I’d fallen into some very dark places. It was a scary time that I’d never want to relive. I came out to my mother as bisexual when I was 17. I remember the moment incredibly vividly. We were sat on the couch, my laptop open with the wallpaper as Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn, and my mother looks at my laptop, laughs, and calls me a “dyke” yet again. It bothered me. So I finally just said “you know what, yeah, I like girls”. We had a lengthy talk and she told me it didn’t bother her. It was nice to hear because, even though I did not need her acceptance, I still wanted it in a way. I came out as bisexual to her, and my closest friends, because I wanted to hold onto the idea of “maybe I’m still a bit normal if I say I still like boys”. I was confused and depressed for a very long time, even after coming out as bisexual because I still wasn’t being 100% honest with myself. I just wanted to be normal. But then I realised that everyone’s idea of “normal” is different. I thought that if I pretended to keep liking, and dating, boys that it would somehow make people view me as not so different. But, now at the age of 20, I have finally accepted myself for who I truly am and that is a lesbian. I know some people who don’t feel that they need to label themselves but I did. I needed a label and I’ve finally found the one that fits me best. I’m sexually and emotionally attracted to women and I simply don’t feel anything like that for men. It doesn’t make me weird or not normal; it simply makes me, me. I finally love myself and I’m finally confident. I can now openly talk to my mother about my sexuality and not feel terrified. I can watch shows like Wynonna Earp, Carmilla, Buffy etc with her and not feel like I have to hide the fact I watch them simply because they have queer relationships in them. She loves me for who I am and so do my friends. Others opinions of you aren’t vital, but it’s still comforting for me, personally, to know that they are happy for me. It took my a long time to finally accept who I am but noe that I have I’m happy and I wouldn’t change a thing!

Questioning until further notice…

My journey started 9 years ago and is still going on now. Looking back, it may have even started years before that? But 9 years ago, my sister got pregnant at 16 and kickstarted my mother into giving my younger sister and I the dreaded “safe sex” talk at age 11 & 13! Being the smart ass that I am, told my mother I didn’t need the “talk” because I was a lesbian. We all had a good laugh and left the conversation at that. Except that became a running joke within my family… “when you get a girlfriend she’ll be my favourite daughter” my mum would say. It’s kinda the reversal of 90% of queer stories, rather than feeling like i was being putting in this heterosexual mould that society expected of me, I was constantly being called gay by my family. sometimes fondly, sometimes not so fondly. It lead me on a journey of confusion and frustration. For years I was a walking, human-shaped, lump of utter confusion, sometimes I still am. It started making me question everything; interactions I’ve had, friends I made, people I avoided. I had a fear of talking to new people, mostly boys. In 23 years I can count on one hand the amount of relationships I have had (spoiler alert: it’s absolutely zero)… But I like to read stories, fanfiction, comics and 99% of them are queer. Most times, I can’t watch a tv show if it doesn’t have at least one rainbow community representation.. it’s been 9 years and I still don’t know what I am or what I like.. however, I’ve always felt more connected, safer, with females, I can remember meeting a couple when I was like 7yrs old (because that’s what I liked to do when I was little; assert myself into strangers life if even for a few minutes) at the beach and introducing myself and staying with them for hours. The woman was so nice, Jill was her name, and they were trying for a baby of their own. I held her hand, she make sure I had sunblock on, that I was fed and not thirsty. In retrospect, that’s kinda weird for someone to do for a random kid but I remember crying when I had to leave. I don’t remember her boyfriend, nor did I have any sort of connection with him or any other male (though that may be a result of some early childhood trauma? Idk) what I’m trying to say is that my journey is still going on now and I am looking forward to wherever it may lead me; my mother may get a future daughter-in-law or a son-in-law or someone in between or maybe I’ll just get a whole bunch of cats? Either way, I am loved. I adore Waverly and her bravery to go after what she wants and I aspire to be even half as brave! I am trying to absorb some of Waverly’s Bravery to explore what could make me happy…. also, Ive watched Gentleman Jack (several times; Sophie Rundle is adorable!) for an appreciation of just how far we’ve come!!

I don’t label/identify. I’m a girl who tries to be confident with being me every single day.

I came out to my family in a three page word document in 2006 or 2007. It felt easier than face to face. To this day I still express myself better or shall I say more openly, more honestly, and more in depth via typing, texting, writing. Honestly, After coming out to my family back then, I spent many year’s slowly coming out to people. Through college, through work, etc. I knew most people knew, but there is a huge difference in assuming someone knows and informing them yourself. I can’t recall the last time I “came out” to someone. Now I guess I “come out” in different ways. I don’t explain things or nervously back into it. I will just say this is my ex wife, my girlfriend, my kids other mom. Sometimes I still feel uneasy but generally I’m adapting much better. It took me over 10 years to finally take a chance on cutting my hair short like other friends had and like how I, I repeat “I”, wanted it. I not only love it, but it has created even more confidence.

I have supportive friends, family and coworkers. There will always be people who judge, but I would consider myself to be one of the lucky ones.

Old School Dyke

I came out 40 years ago this August when I was 19 years old. For me, the realization of who I was when I came out was like someone had thrown open the shutters and thrown up the sash and let the air and light into my life. Unfortunately, there was also a great since of fear especially at that time. Short history lesson: Stonewall had happened just 11 years earlier in 1969. Homosexuality was removed from the list of “mental illnesses” by the American Psychiatric Association only 7 years prior in 1973. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” was still 14yrs away so they did ask and if you were found out you could not only be disowned by your family, but chances were good you might lose your job or your housing and most of your friends.
For me it was a time of wonder, I was naïve. But I as lucky because when I first came out, I found an older lesbian, who I worked with, that was able to help me navigate this new hidden world and find the community. You must remember that this is long before the internet, so finding each other was exceedingly difficult. She taught me about feminist bookstores, Lesbian Connection (a newsletter that is still published today), women’s potlucks, women’s music and of course the bars, though very few if any of those women’s space still exist. It was all about knowing the code words and symbols: feminist, womyn, potluck, lavender, violets, labrys, etc. To this day I still use “the look” with other women in public that let us each other know that we are the same without words.
Regarding the fear and history there is one story that I carry with me to this day. It was on St. Patrick’s Day 1981 when my older lesbian mentor smuggled me into the Three Sisters bar in Denver. I know they knew I was a little underage, but they also knew that the lesbian bars were one of the few places that was safe to meet other people like yourself. The Sisters was packed that night and the group I was with had been there about 30-40 minutes when across the room there is a face I recognized. Being young, and like I said naïve and feeling invincible I got up and walked across the bar, and bold as brass walked up to the woman I recognized and said: “Hi Miss (name withheld)”, to my high school guidance counselor. She turned and looked at me and said HI back in a very trepidatious way, not using my name and being kind of distant… I was a bit taken aback as we had been close in high school but figured whatever ‘it’s been awhile’ and went back to the group I was with. About a half hour later she came across the bar to me and said, “Hi Jackie” and introduced me to the woman she was with and we spoke for a few minutes. To this day I cannot forget the look of sheer terror that ran across her face when I said her name, it was the first time I understood just how dangerous being out could be. If found out she would have lost her job, possibly her home – everything. She was sacred of me recognizing her in a lesbian bar and it took her over a half hour to realize that if I was there too it was OK, and her secret was safe. I wish I could say that was the only time over the years that I have seen “that look”, but I am glad to say that I see it very seldom now and I hope that this generation and the next will never have to see it.
Thank you for this forum to share these stories. As I get older, I worry that our herstory and where and who we came from is being lost. Hopefully, projects like this will help to keep that from happening and keep our stories alive.

I’m a brasilian lesbian

My whole life, i Love girls but i didnt know that. I denied. I dont being happy, all the time i was bullied and i just on my 18th birthday i kiss for a girl and this show me my truly inside. Today i’m free and happy with so many lgbtqa+ representacions and so proud about me, today i love Who i’m. (Sorry about my terrible inglesh) love and thanks.

Anonymous

i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.