Community Rainbow Waves

Abnormal, proudly queer, free to love who my heart desires.

My coming out story isn’t it the happiest, but it’s mine and it’s real. I was raised very conservatively and extremely invested in the church. My father was a pastor and so was my grandfather, my father side of the family were strict Christians for many generations. My mother was born into a wild family, she became a born again Christian after meeting my father. My family almost never spoke about homosexuality and when they did it was usually about how my gay uncle died of aids or my cousin was killed for being gay. At a very young age I had it sewed into me that being gay was a bad thing and resulted in terrible consequences. This affected my ability to understand my feelings when I fell in love with my best friend which made it all that much more confusing. After a good amount of denial and self hate, I was able to find peace and comfort in the stories of other people going through what I was going through. I eventually told my sister and then my mom, they didn’t approve and that made it hard for me to love myself, I was sent to missionary school and after being told I had to choose God or homosexuality I was torn, how do I choose? Between what I’ve been raised to believe, and a part of me that I can’t control. It took time but I chose to love myself after all that’s the second most important commandment in the good book, ‘love your neighbor as you love yourself’. how can I love others well if I don’t love myself? My life is still complicated and my mother still doesn’t approve. I’ve chosen to love her despite our differences in opinion, and it’s made my life richer loving people despite there opinions of me. I’m strong because I’m not alone in my challenge and I believe love is to important to hide from, both for ourselves and the people we love.

Lesbian/Gay

It was a very confusing process for me realising that I didn’t like boys and was only into girls. I dated boys my whole life knowing something wasn’t right, I actually thought something was wrong with me rather than thinking oh maybe I’m gay.

I was 17 years old when I finally faced my sexual identity and as soon as I built up the courage to do so it all just clicked into place for me and it was truly amazing! I was so relieved that I finally found that part of myself and understood it.

I was way too nervous to tell my parents face to face so I text my mum explaining that I liked girls and the whole process of how I realised so she didn’t think I was going through a “faze” and she text back saying “I love you no matter who you love” so that was a really positive reaction and I was so glad because of how scared I was.
My sister kind of outed me to my dad and his reaction to start with wasn’t as positive but he came around very very quickly.

Love is love.

Internalizing my battles

Usually a story starts at the beginning. When everyone is equally as confused. No one knows where the directors will take each scene and I, being from a conservative family, just was implied that I was straight by nature. No questioning needed of my sexuality. Thus, I live for 22 years just repressing feelings. Going out with boys and then feeling this empty feeling. Like I’m not being completely honest with myself. So I start this story with the middle. My junior year in University. I had already acknowledged that I liked a girl that was one of my best friends but I sweared to myself every girl had those kinds of moments. We are just hyper awear of our feelings. (laughs in closet gay). Well well we’ll. There comes 2018 and the summer that changed my life. I was preparing myself to have 2 months of no interaction with people. Ready to start studying for medical school and then out of nowhere I just put a random show on. Wynonna Earp. What an interesting show. Magic, guns and comedy. I was hooked. What I wasn’t expecting was to identify so much with Waves. How the heck did a writers created this character. Why I’m I getting so emotional over a TV show. How I was going out of my head questioning if I was a lesbian or I just was confused or all of the above. What I didn’t realize was that I will go to YouTube and spend days watching interviews from the cast. What I never realized was that one of them will sing the song I never wanted my lips to sing.
I’m still closet and at age 23 I feel like it’s taken forever to get to this comfortable place where some of my good friends know. But, Dominique I have to say thank you. I just graduated from a bachelor degree in environmental sciences. On my way to my PhD. If it wasn’t for the fact that I saw representation of not only the awesome queer community but also Start the Wave I don’t think I would’ve come out of that depressed stage I was in. Dominique thank you for saying it’s ok to be the odd one out in an ever so serious world. Thank you for standing by our planet’s side. As a queer Hispanic environmentalist it means the world. I sure as hell will be doing the most to save it too.

JENNIFER, 19, CISGENDER LESBIAN, SHE/HER

I first thought I might be gay when I was 11 (2011). It occurred to me that every ‘crush’ I’d had on boys had only ever been for show. Boys weren’t something I ever thought of that way unless prompted by peers or parents. I remember thinking over in my head ‘no, Jeni, you can’t be gay. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me’ and then I pushed it far back in my mind for years.
By high school (2013), I started to notice I was different. I happened to be in an all girls class so it was easy to notice. I was spending every day with 30 other 13yo girls and all of them obsessing over boys and I started to feel like something was wrong with me. Funnily enough, 13yo me didn’t even consider that I might be gay, I was just pleased to not be distracted from my school work and went on faking crushes on boys, barely realising that was what I was doing.
It took one of my close friends coming out as bisexual, in grade 9 (2014),to make me start thinking about that again, and I didn’t fully admit it to myself, that I liked girls, until I couldn’t deny my feelings for that friend.
I wanted to tell my best friend first but she was away sick from school the day I planned to do it. It made me sad all day and in English I ended up coming out my bi friend/crush as bisexual. I saw being bisexual as more ‘normal’; I was too scared to admit to anyone or even myself that I didn’t like boys. She took it well of course. I texted my other friend that afternoon and told her and she was supportive too.
The next person I told was my older sibling and they were great about it but warned me that our parents didn’t ‘believe’ in bisexuality.
Those first ‘coming outs’ went down in August 2014 right around my 14th birthday. By that September I told a classmate of mine (later became my best friend, now still a good friend) after she’d gushed to me about the boy she liked and then asked who I liked. And, after some nervous hesitation, I told her. She didn’t even question it she just said it was cute and wanted to hear more about the crush not my sexuality which was a huge relief.
The rest of my family (mum, dad, other two siblings) I came out to that October, when I started dating my bisexual friend, simply by telling them who I was dating. They weren’t not supportive. I didn’t expect them to have any ‘issues’ with it. But I can’t say I was happy about their reactions. All that sticks out to me is my dad joking ‘at least you won’t get pregnant’ (which hurt because I’ve always really really wanted to be a mum) and one of my siblings chiming in with another joke. And I can’t ever complain about that because they support me which is ‘lucky’.
My other friends and peers just found out by seeing me with my girlfriend, from what I remember. We didn’t hide it much at school, but there was still hate. I remember holding hands once on the way to class and some guy called us f*gs.
It took me a couple more years to let myself be just gay. I’m almost 20 now and still struggle to talk directly about how I’m attracted to women, unless I’m saying it in a joke. I still feel a bit ashamed at times when watching intimate moments between 2 women in shows/movies and even when no one else is in the room and it’s just kissing. I still have to worry about how anyone new I meet could be moderately to extremely homophobic. I still feel the need to come out to new people I meet. I still have to hide it from my homophobic grandparents. Some of it just really sucks.
But some of it is beautiful too and I try every day to focus on those parts more. My new goal, inspired by Dominique P-C, is to remind myself daily that my queerness is beautiful.

Caroline P C

when i found out, it was very confusing and when i decided to share it with my friends they super welcomed me with open arms, being just one of my lgbtq + community friendship cycle, i feel welcomed by them and a lucky woman for that

Just a human who loves humans, but tends to focus more on women

I am 16. I’ve “known” about this part of myself that finds other girls attractive as well as some boys for almost 4 years now. That’s almost 4 years that I have spent trying to suppress that part of myself and keep it a secret. That’s almost 4 years of burying, shaming and building mass anxiety inside me.

An issue I have discovered about myself is my tendency to want to “fit in”. The last thing I would want is for others to think of me as different. My biggest fear about sharing this part of me with someone is that it might change their perspective of me or, even worse, they might tie me in with their preconceived thoughts/views. Whether they be good or bad views, I just want them to think of me as that same girl before the big ole conversation. Because that’s the truth. I am still the same me.
The one thing that has made me feel sane over the years in this fine, industrious closet is the representation I see on screen. I’m lucky enough to be growing up in this time of change, where more and more queer characters are being portrayed in film and television. All I can say is that it warms my heart to see this growing community of queer characters and representation in the things I watch, and it never fails to make me feel seen and normal.
And in part, I can thank you, Dom, for being one of those people who made and continue to make me understand that being a part of this wonderful rainbow we all ride on, is okay.

Remy

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

I live in a country where homosexuality is punished by law – up to 20 years in jail and whipping. The government and religious bodies here are against the ‘lifestyle’ and want to ’guide people to the right path’. I have seen a member of my family spit at an interracial straight couple. My best friend is of mixed parentage, and I have received so much pushback from my family to stop being her friend because of this reason. I come from a homophobic, racist, narrow-minded family. And my mother abused me growing up – physically, emotionally and mentally. I also come from a minority racial group, where in my country we are second class citizens. We do not have equal rights, this is the law. Imagine all that and going through a sexuality crisis at school all by my lonesome.

My life was very sheltered. My mother had her own values that I didn’t agree with. She would call me useless, unwanted, heartless, ungrateful and a pariah everyday. For no reason, or a very small mistake like not completing a chore before she got back home from work, she would make me squat outside the house in the dark facing the wall for hours not knowing if snakes, scorpions, spiders, centipedes, rats or cockroaches were approaching me from behind. For hours. And over a span of years, this went on. If I opened my mouth to protest, I would get a caning, and still had to do the punishment.

I became a loner. I didn’t talk much. I tried to stay away from home as long as I possibly could. I would give excuses like I had extra classes or after school activities. During these times, I would take walks and sit by the paddy fields across the road from the house. Just thinking. Because on top of all these things going on in my head of being just a complete useless person, I was also dealing with my sexuality. I didn’t have a sense of there even being such a thing as lesbian or bisexual. I’ve never heard of these things, coming from a fishing village. In the small amount of time in a week that I did watch television, there was no representation of such things. And there was no Internet back then. Therefore there was no awareness.

So when I started developing crushes for other girls, I felt like I was doing something so wrong. I felt dirty and guilty and shameful of myself. But I couldn’t stop these feelings. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t talk to my parents. Not even my dad because he was too afraid of my mother to say anything to me. I certainly couldn’t talk to my school friends. They were an immature bunch of kids who just wanted to talk about fun things like the latest pop music or television show. I don’t blame them, they were happy kids from happy households. Our priorities were different.

Things got a little bit better when I started college. My parents moved to the town where my college was in. So I continued living with them. This is the culture in my country. Kids don’t move away from their parents at 18, we stay together as long as possible. Therein lies my problem. Because until today I have to take care of my still abusive mother who is now 81 and immobile. I have put aside my life for her, but that’s a different story. In college, I had access to the Internet, and with that came the awareness of the LGBT community. I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I didn’t feel like I was wrong. And I started a relationship with a girl I have been crushing on for a while (turns out she had been crushing on me too). We were together for about 4 years, in secret, until her parents got her married off to a man and they moved to a different country. It broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes to the awesomeness of being in a relationship with someone you love.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I thought I’d just share with everyone that things are bleak sometimes and it may seem like there is no hope. But in all that craziness, there will always be a small sliver or light you can hold on to. Life gives you that much. My situation is still shitty at best but I choose to believe that things will turn around for me. I did not become like my mother, and I am proud of that. I chose kindness and compassion and tolerance over what I have been taught and shown my entire life. So I know there can be some good in this world that rubs off on you and sticks with you because you know it feels right for you.

I don’t put labels on myself.

Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.

Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.

This is me

I love being happy

I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy

#OutIsTheNewIn

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

A funny carefree kid 🙂

so when i was little i had the biggest crush on jessie j and like i was obsessed. and when i was in year seven i heard this group of people talking about a girl in my year who was lesbian and they where being really nasty so i was like so what im bi and you dont have a problem with me. and then i realised that it felt so good saying it but it wasnt quite right. so a few years later i came out again as lesbian and i felt so much better with myself but everyone expected it because i was the sporty short haired girl. and people started talking about me but i didnt care because i was happy 🙂 thats my coming out story x