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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

TRIGGER WARNING: Some of the posts on this page may contain sensitive or potentially triggering content. Start the Wave has tried to identify these posts and place individual trigger warnings on them. 

 

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“getting hit on by both genders is such a champagne problem”

I know I was different say special, was when I was 10 yrs old. I was brought up by my parents as Catholic and we usually go to church every Sunday. There was this one nervous moment of my life that I would never forget, where we usually hold hands to whoever is next to us when we sing this song in church and there this one girl who’s next to me. I don’t know how I exactly felt that moment but I was really nervous to hold her hand. My father was telling me to just grabbed her hand but I didn’t until the song was over. He asked me why did I do that and I just smile at him and said I don’t know. What I really felt that moment was this weird feeling. It’s like what I see on TV when the two leading characters feel in love with each other. I know the girl bc i went to the same school with her in elementary. She was few years older than me, I always admire her for her beauty and kindness towards other people at school. I couldn’t ask anyone what this feeling is called, I was to afraid to even asked my parents so I kept it all inside. Growing up I thought I would just forgot all about it. Then I went to highschool where I saw a lot of pretty girls and maybe some cute boys too. It makes me more confused about my sexual identify. Around 2009 when I saw Glee and i really find the show really amusing with all the singing and dancing but also bc the characters of the show where in highschool. I was hooked by Santana’s character and I can really see myself on her. The scene with her Abuela where she came out to her also terrified me. What if my parents don’t accept me too? I also live in a country where there’s a lot of discrimination towards lgbt community. Sad to say at the age of 25 I’m still in fear of showing my true self to my family and to the world, I really doesn’t have the courage to do it. Maybe when I turn 50 or something, maybe when my parents are old and gray they won’t mind. I’m hoping one day I can do it bc actually it’s giving me a lot of anxiety. Right now I’m spending my free time watching shows with queer characters to give me hope that someday I can be those characters too. P.s I watch ur show Wynonna Earp and Waverly is my fave. Not out yet, but will get there hehe. Love to all the queers out there. Xx. -J.A.

My chest comes out

I knew from a very young age that I liked girls, and the truth was something that terrified me.
Luckily I have had some very nice friends who have given me their support, my family has no problems with LGBTIQ+ people, but I haven’t come out of the wardrobe either because I don’t feel it’s the right time to do so.

The problem has never been what I like, but how I feel.

I have memories of when I was a child and I never felt attached to the things that were supposed to be for my sex, I just didn’t feel comfortable being what a woman is supposed to be. So when I started to notice my chest growing, I just started to shut down.

My first boyfriend was FTM, hearing him talk about how he felt was comfortable for me, I even thought “Maybe I’m like that too, maybe I’m a guy” but after going around and around that idea I realized that no, my only problem has always been my breast.

But it’s just in these times of quarantine that I’ve had the most time to question what I want to be, or rather, who I am.

My identity problem has made me move away from my friends, simply because I don’t want to bring them into this subject, and not knowing what’s happening to me, it’s not easy for me to talk about it, nor do I feel that I should bring them into my internal struggle.

So writing this here, which I am sure and confident is a free space, is comforting and even liberating.

I just keep swimming and losing myself in my thoughts, trying to discover and learn more about myself, hoping that I am not the only person with this kind of “dysphoria”.
Maybe I just have to be me and ignore it, appreciate what I have and love myself as I am, it’s hard, but I can’t sink.

Josephine

First of all i want to thank Dominique for her incredibly inspiring and emotional story. i truly don’t believe i would be where i am today and feel as open as i am today if it wasn’t for her. Confusion is an understatement. To not know who you truly are and how you truly feel because you have to mask your identity to satisfy those around you because you’re different is a pain myself, and many of my queer friends that i’ve made along this journey of realizing who i am, have felt. I have yet to come out to my family and a majority of my friends mainly because, it’s terrifying to me. the thought of it truly scares me. For a long time i even felt envy towards those who were able to be who they were, wearing no mask shielding away their true self. Since then i’ve come out to many few, and you would think the more people you come out to, the easier it gets. but that’s not the truth. at least for me it wasn’t. Many have told me that when the time is right to come out, you will know. I’m still exploring who i am and figuring out exactly what i’m meant to do in this lifetime. All i know is that i love people, not genders. i see past that when i look at someone i am attracted to. and i’m proud that i can say that. Reading your story helped me realize that i’m not the only one who feels this way when it comes to who we are. I’m tired of wearing this mask and one day i will be able to take that mask off and live openly as a queer woman. but until then, i will continue to strive for my best self, by learning new things and meeting new people along the way. It is definitely a relief of some weight of my shoulders to be able to express myself on here without any judgement and for that i am grateful. It’s incredible what you are doing. 💞So, Thank you!!
I don’t know who will see this but,
My name is Josephine and i am queer.
#OutisthenewIn 🌈these colors look good on me

A special bean called the lezbean

When did I know?? I had inklings and moments of suspicion that I was not like other beans in my teens. I was never into the boy beans. But my upbringing was very Christian influenced, enveloped in values that made it really hard for me to grow. It took leaving home for university, going to Vancouver, to open my eyes. I met a lot of queer beans and attended ClexaCon it’s first two years. I started consuming a lot of queer media. Eventually, this gay bean accepted herself for who she was at the age of 21. It’s been two years now and I can honestly say nothing else has ever made me happier than loving women and accepting myself for it.
When did I come out? You don’t come out once in your life. You come out over and over and over again. The first person I told was my dad in the car, on the way to lunch. Then gradually, I told my friends- most of them had a hunch anyway. Everyone I’ve told has been seriously loving. But I’ve consciously kept some people in the dark, like my mother, her being the source of the religious influences in my life. Recently, I moved to Europe. I still go to church and only three of my friends know my sexual orientation there. The first, is a bisexual girl who came out to me drunkenly at a bar. Bless her. The second, is an intern at the church who I asked for advice because I had fallen for one of the girls in our community. I specifically asked, was a relationship with her realistic? And the third person, was the aforementioned girl. She was becoming my friend and if we are to talk about love, romantic relationships, and past experiences openly, then I wanted her to know the real me. She is in fact, not queer, I’ve established. That’s okay. There are other rainbow beans out there.
Being out and openly queer in my country in Europe is very much allowed, but not common, I’ve learned. I’m going to keep my orientation to myself from now on. I fear I’m not strong enough to take on the social obstacles that I might have to face, should my orientation be widely known in my social circles. That’s okay for now. My hope is that… I can live openly one day because I’m not good at pretending to be something I’m not. People like Dom inspire me, of course. I know, in turn, I’ve inspired others as well. If I can keep that going… this nice cycle of receiving and giving, I have a lot of hope that I can get through anything life will throw at me for being “different”.
– a lezbean

Emotionally growing still

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

I was never like other girls growing up. All my friends were boy crazy around 9 and i just wasnt into any one but around middle school when i really became sexually aware i realized i didnt find myself looking at a boy thinking ‘oh he’s so cute.’ I found myself looking at girls. At sleep overs or any girl group get together was the worst. I didnt understand what they saw in guys. Girls were soo much prettier, but i kept my mouth shut and stayed in the back ground. I didnt understand them. At the time i was living in a foster home i had been in since i was 3 and was verbally and physically abused in by the male, his wife was religious and they were mormon, Most Mormons dont believe in being gay and they were part of them. Around the time i was figuring out my feelings my foster family had some one on their side come out as gay and they stoped taking to them which scared the hell out of me when they were who i lived with and all i had, if i changed homes i was terrified of not being able to see my mother who i was able to see. As i got older i started getting a crush on this girl and it made me feel guilty i felt like i was lying to everyone. One day i broke down talking to my mom. I couldnt take the feeling i had to tell someone and i knew i could trust her, my moms a pretty accepting person and always had been. I texted my mom on the bus ride home from school crying cause i felt like i was doing something so bad and i wasnt a bad kid. I dont remember what i told her but her reply was ‘we already knew ’ meaning her and my dad. I was so lucky cause i have friends who didnt have the best time. When i was 15 i moved in with my parents again and never told my foster family until last year the day i graduated. I bought tickets to go see my current girlfriend and i told them i was leaving to see my girlfriend and that was that. My family has all been very accepting and so thankful for that i couldnt ask for more.

The age of love is short, there is no limit to oblivion… But this is the value of love.

Since childhood. But the awareness and acceptance of self came at a more conscious age. Now I am happy about it. I have been living with my beloved person for several years now and the most wonderful thing for her is that I was a discovery of her sexuality and an opportunity to realize that the world is not only black and white. I live in Russia, the country that patience and understanding of such I am not very different, here still slips the foundations of the past, and there is probably a disadvantage in this, but there are a lot of people like me who are gradually me attitude towards us)

I am Chelsey. I am a girl, a lover, a fighter, a wife and I am bisexual!

My story starts when I was young, about the age of 10, though I did not realize until more recently, and I am approaching my 26th birthday. When I was younger I had a bit of a struggle with my gender identity. I was a “tom-boy” and between the ages of eight to thirteen, I refused to wear clothes from the girls section, in favor of baggy “boy” clothing, and wearing short hair. I just felt more comfortable that way, but if anyone mistook me for actually being a boy, I got angry, and couldn’t understand why it was so hard for people to get that girls can like boy things too! To be fair, I did look like a boy so I didn’t have much of a right to be upset, and now I look back on those years and laugh a little. It was also around this time that I found myself becoming more and more infatuated with female icons or characters in movies and T.V. Moulin Rouge was my all time favorite movie at age 12, but instead of being obsessed with Ewan McGregor, I was in love with Nicole Kidman. I thought nothing of it besides admiring a great artist, who just so happens to be gorgeous, I didn’t think anything of this behavior, but my uncle, who lived with my mom and I at this time, and who is gay as well, clocked this behavior and starting making comments about being gay or a lesbian, and poking fun at me about it. This of course made me furious because, for one, his words rang true to me, but I am suborn and would not stand for someone else telling me what I was, or who I liked. And two, because I would get flustered and confused and thought that there was no way he could be right about me. That wasn’t what society said was right, and surely a whole group of people would be right and he, as one man alone, must be wrong. So I did what many many people do, about all conflicting and scary feelings, and I buried them away, deep down so that I wouldn’t have to confront them myself, or give anyone else to opportunity to tell me what my sexuality was again. Besides, my family already had a gay member, there couldn’t be more than one to a family, right? Isn’t that how it works??

When I reached puberty, I started to feel much more comfortable wearing more feminine clothing and became a lot more comfortable in my own skin, which as I’m writing this, I realize that is a little ironic because puberty is when most people feel the exact opposite… non-the-less, I was feeling more like “myself” despite having an occasional moment or feeling of attraction to my friends, the female friends. I told myself that those feelings were just there because we were so close and such good friends, and like in all relationships, it was normal to feel a little jealous when you had to start sharing your time among other friends or an occasional boyfriend. Except, I wasn’t feeling jealous of their time being spent with others, I was jealous of the boy holding my best friends hand, or talking all night with her on the phone, and getting to hear her profess her love for him. And when they would inevitably break up, I would feel a little bit relieved, and all too happy to through my arms around her in support and wipe her tears. But again, for years, I would lie to myself by saying that I was acting as any friend would, and that there was nothing more to it because there couldn’t be.

So, I fell in love with men out in public, and women in my mind. And for many years, I was content with this being my reality. I met an incredible man to whom I am now married and it has been with him and the security of our relationship, that I was finally able to start letting my feelings and attractions to women come to the surface to explore. There is a small part of me that wishes I had come to that point much sooner, and before we were married, especially given that I was quite young when we did so, and at twenty-two years old, there is so much life left to live and years to spend figuring out things like sexuality and love and attraction. But we were firm in our decision to marry and it was the best decision I’ve made.

I am not a particularly spiritual person, but I have truly been blessed with finding my husband who loves me for exactly who I am, and for being there to listen to my ramblings and vocal realizations about being bisexual. He created a safe place for me to talk about my feelings, when I had not created one for myself, and for that I am very thankful. Eventually I felt more comfortable talking to friends about my realization, and my sisters who are nothing but amazing and supportive, and honestly didn’t have much of a reaction to my confession, besides making it seem like there was absolutely nothing different about me to them. And I mean that in the very best way. I was still the same “Chelsey” that they grew up with, I was still me, only with a very big realization, which to be honest, some of them knew before I did. I became more and more comfortable with this as my new truth over the last four years that this discovery process lasted, but through all of it I was certain that I would never be comfortable telling my mother. I didn’t think that she would be angry or upset about it, I just didn’t want her to make some kind of snarky comment or mention the fact that I’m married to a man and the obvious complexities of sexuality and marriage. These were issues I had been navigating, quite gracefully with my husband for years and I wasn’t yet ready for her input.

Now I find myself in a strange position, along with the rest of the world, where I have not left my house for anything other than walking the dog and taking out the trash for twenty-one days. During my time of self-quarantine, I have been finding ways to stay creative. I am a writer and a photographer, which are mediums I have used quite frequently to express myself and other issues dear to my heart, but the topics of sexuality, lgbtq, gender norms and freedom have been taking up more space than anything else in my mind. I have written poetry and done a couple photo shoots with myself eluding to my sexuality, to use as my own full coming out to my mother. I don’t exactly know what shifted in my mind or in my heart about it, but I have come to a place where I would just so much rather be completely out and free to express and talk about who I am with everyone in my life. So when my mother asked to read my poem, as she is my biggest fan and I love her dearly for that, I sent it to her happily and without reservation or fear. It is as follows:

In all the land of milk and honey,
when all the land was warm and sunny
there stood a girl, and in her eye
she saw the long day pass her by.
She stood and stared, then sat to cry
for there was none to hold her high.

She had in mind the arms that would,
forbidden as they were.
For in those arms her heart did lie
though there was one thing more.
Their lives had parted long before,
still, longing filled her soul,
to hold the one for whom she’d die,
great love must come with a tole.

Devoted she was to someone new,
though torn, her mind had split in two.
With one for him and one for her,
but in the end with what to do,
she knew not who to choose.
For if she did, the choice she’d make,
well surely two would stand to loose.

But in the night, her dreams held true,
the love it was her heart went to.
Though with the dawn her sadness grew,
the warmth she felt was gone, she knew.

And though she woke, she could not rise.
Her mind was lost beneath her eyes,
instead it soared beyond the seas,
and weaved around among the trees.
It fluttered to the place she knew,
this place it was where her heart grew.

It found it’s way and hoped to stay
into the arms where lovers play.
And in those arms she loved so dear
her eyes began to shed a tear.
She wasn’t sad, or mad, but glad,
for it was her she’d wanted so bad.
And as it was her that her heart had belonged
she knew from the start that it had all along.

So I sent the poem off to my mom, and awaited the questions I knew that she would have for me. And she did have questions, and I answered them by explaining my journey to figure out who I am and who I want to be, and how I want to be seen and fit into the world. I explained that I have come to realize that I am bisexual and I am married to a man, and I would not change one second of this life I have been given to figure out. Her response was very simple, and to the point, and not what I had expected. She said “I thought so.” and added the “thinking man” emoji to her text. I am thankful to say that her response made me feel so relieved, and seen, and loved, and I will never take that for granted because I know that there are many other people out there with stories similar to mine, who do not get the same warm feelings in response to their coming out. I love my mother to pieces, and everyone who has been there to support me in everything I do in this life. I will take none of them for grated, and I will be living my life, doing the best to spread love, understanding and light to those dark sides of society as I go.

Thank you so dearly, from the very bottom of my heart, and from the depths of my being where I had been hiding away my true self for so many years. Everyone living an out and open life, and everyone who is trying to get there right now, you are all my heroes, and you are not alone in this crazy world!

All my love to you,

Chels

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;

Book_Music

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community roughly at the age of 7 it was definitely hard for me to come out since both of my parents are religious, (babtist & Apostolic) I had came out to my mom at the age of 10 and never came out to my dad cause I would get thrown out of my home. Luckily both of my siblings and mom accepted me and I felt really validated but sadly I am never able to tell my father which gives me horrible anxiety and other thoughts (as well as other stuff). I am now 13 and I have helped many of my friends through coming out as well as figuring out who they are.

Bisexual

When I was kid growing up all I knew and was taught was that same sex marriage isn’t normal it isn’t right. That I needed to marry a man and give my mom and grandma grand baby’s. However as time went in and I moved away from my grandmothers believes I saw how much different I became not always wondering how I’m going to be looked at for you I love. I got more comfortable being myself around my fiends and admitting to them that I am a women who loved both women and men.
My friends accepted me with open harms some even confided in me and came out to me. I found out how out how it felt to be in a relationship with both genders and see how I became as my true self.
By the age of 14 I came out to my parents. They were both so supportive and proud that I was finally able to tell them my true self. They also told me how they always knew they just wanted me to figure it out myself. They welcomed me with open arms and showed me how I can be who I am around them without any worries. About a year or two later I came out the my grandma which was the hardest person I have ever came out to. At first she wasn’t okay with it she didn’t want to believe this is who I am. But after time when she saw that he wasn’t going to let her be the reason as to why I’m going to change am who I am she saw how much love this community gave out to everyone, she saw all the positivity that the lgbtq+ community gave to everyone struggling with finding them true selfs and realized that there is nothing wrong with me being open about myself and showing the world that I don’t give a fuck with what they have to say as long as I’m happy!
That’s all that really matters in life that I worry about myself only. And help me be more happy and confident in who I have become in these last few years.
So here I say to all of you;
Do not let others tell you who you can and cannot love.
Do not let people make you think what you feel is wrong

Sit down with yourself and tell yourself “I’m okay I’m strong and I can get through anything in life. I got this just gotta keep my head up! “
Show yourself some love!
Keeping being you no matter what anyone says.

I am a proud bisexual Latina woman who is still showing others around me that it is okay to be yourself even if that means having to go through rough patches in order to prove that I could care less with what people think of me because I’m a proud fucking bitch and I ain’t about to apologize for being me. So if anyone has a problem with it, then honey don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out