Community Rainbow Waves

One should be free to live as they’re able, and not according to another one’s label – content warning: this coming out story contains self-harming behaviour

I always knew there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was called, and certainly didn’t know the emotional battles I would have with myself as I was growing up.

Coming from a relatively small country town was even more confusing for me.

What is wrong with me?
Is there something wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
Are there other girls like me? Where are they?
How will I know?
What will people think?
What will my family think?
Will my friends hate me?

The questions just kept coming, but I didn’t have any answers. Each and every day I was struggling with my inner demons.

I remember my first real girl crush like it was yesterday. There was a girl in my class at primary school that just got me. I know she is still out there, and I know she is out. One day our paths may cross again.

I moved away from my home town when I was 19 and headed for the big smoke. By this time I was in so much emotional pain. I developed a very close relationship with alcohol, but the pain didn’t go away. It was always there the next day.

I became close to one of my friend’s mum. I could talk to her about anything. She obviously saw something in me that I didn’t know was ‘visible’.

When she asked if I wanted to go out one night with her and some friends, of course I said yes. What she didn’t tell me was that it was a women’s only club. When we walked in, although petrified, I finally felt like I was not alone. The place was packed, so I definitely wasn’t alone . Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.

I guess this was the first time I came out, and I didn’t have to say a word. And I guess that’s when her and her partner came out to me.

When it came time to start coming out to family and friends, I was shit scared, and rightly so. I was cast out, given death glares, humiliated, bullied, publicly shamed, and the list goes on.

I was made to feel disgusted that I was a human being.

Even though I was living the party life, I was now very much alone. Let’s be honest, I was trying to fill a void.

At my lowest point, I just wanted to die.

Slowly, I started to meet people who just saw me, without judgement. I was finally starting to realise that life could be beautiful.

Times were changing.

Or was it just me seeing things more clearly?

Things were very different back in the 90’s.

Along came the internet, mobile phones, and a multitude of Social Media platforms.

May the support, awareness and love continue to grow for the LGBTQ+ community.

Jocelyn

I guess you could say that I knew I was a member of the LGBQ2IA+ community since I was little. I did not know the word for it then but probably around 5th grade I was highly aware of my sexuality and attraction to both men and women. I kept my sexuality hidden, until 2012 when my sister forced me to tell her. That was the start of my coming out story, It took me a while to tell anyone else after I told my sister even though she took it well. I started off telling some friends through text since they live in different states. They all were accepting and happy for me but I still did not feel comfortable enough to tell the rest of my family or friends. After graduating high school in 2015, I was going to my very first SF pride parade when I decided to tell my parents I was bisexual. The morning of the parade I had written them a letter and had them read it, they were very accepting and told me they already knew. I was extremely nervous even though I have a very open minded family with numerous LGBT+ family members. So even though my journey started in 2012 it did not end in 2015 as I barley told my best friend in 2017, which she too told me she had already thought I was. After that I started to think that I shouldn’t have to tell everyone because it is not a big deal, so since then unless someone asks me directly I don’t make a point to say anything. I just wanted to be myself and not feel like I owed anyone an explanation and that is how I live today. As of now I am happy and comfortable with my sexuality but it was a long journey to get to this point. I still have my ups and downs but I know I have many people in my corner to support me. I hope to whoever reads this that it may help you in some way and you know that there is a whole community out there that will accept you unconditionally.

I am a gay woman

For as long as I can remember I have always been attracted to girls. One of my breaking point was my first kiss in 2 grade with one of my guy best friends. I thought “EW” this is not want I want. I was young and did not understand the concept of being gay. So for years I hid that part of myself deep down inside until one day it decided to reappear, I was 14 years old. At this point in time I understood what it meant for girls to like girls. But I was afraid. I didn’t want people to think things about me. The stigma that stems from girls dressing “tomboy” means they are gay. Which was me. I have always worn boys clothes which I thought was normal! I grew up with 2 older brothers and always looked up to them! But then came in the bullies. I decided to repress my true identity again and again and again. Then years later we are finding ourselves in this unrealistic situation so bizarre, with our world so broken. But during these times I had time to ponder, ( and download TikTok which was also another breaking point in figuring out my sexuality). I finally realized that life is not to be taken for granted. We don’t know how long we have on this dying rock we call earth. So why spend it living it as someone else?

When I finally came out about 4 months ago, I felt like a weight was lifted off my chest. I could be finally be myself, proudly.

I identify as a lesbian

My story started when I was in the 6th grade and I’d notice that I was always looking harder and lingering when I looked at women and never paid attention to boys. I could never relate or join into convo when my friends would all talk about their boy crushes and that did put me on the outside of their world in a way but it also made he have a sense that I wasn’t suppose to be in that world. Anyway, this was a Christian private school with closed minded hearts and minds so I wasn’t eager to expose myself until my last year there in 9th grade when I just about did not care anymore because it came down to loving myself for who I was or faking it till I made it and being depressed. I just about had it and wasn’t gonna be ashamed of it. Thankfully 10th grade came around and I switched to the largest public school in Louisiana because I was snot a closed minded private school person and any sense and loved meeting new and crazy people. This decision changed my life for the better, it made me realize that no one at the school really cared because they had bigger things in their lives to think about. I met an amazing group of friends who accepted be fully which I never really truly thought could happen. But , years later and I’m now 22 and I’ve met so many wonderful lgbt people, dating lots , and am happen to be who I am today and I’m grateful for my experiences. Hope this story helps some of you in the aspect that it does get better and you are worthy of love and acceptance. Love you!

Dana (she/her)

I remember the first time I actively thought about girls in a more than friends way, I was in grade 7 and about 12 years old. There was this girl in my class who was like nobody I’d ever seen before and I REALLY wanted to be her friend. As the year went on, I started wondering what it would be like to kiss her. We were in a group project together, and at one point she hugged me and it was the best thing to ever happen to my 12 year old brain. But, I didn’t really think anything of it, because I thought all girls felt this way. In any case, I still had crushes on boys and continued to do so right through grade 8.

Near the end of grade 8, in the spring of 2012, I discovered Glee and quickly became obsessed with the relationship between Brittany and Santana. I wanted to know more about their storyline, so I delved deeper, buying the DVDs of season 1 and 2 (which I hadn’t seen) just so I could see all of the context behind how their relationship came to be. I had never seen a WLW relationship portrayed ANYWHERE before, so Glee had my head spinning and it became the first TV show I ever got hooked on. I went down the YouTube rabbit hole, searching “TV lesbians” and finding so many more ships to obsess over. Somehow, I still wasn’t connecting this fascination to my own identity. It was new and exciting, but I never really stopped to consider why. All of a sudden, YouTube clip after YouTube clip, it clicked for me and I realized I wanted to be like (and with) the women in those videos.
Later that summer, I realized I was developing feelings for my best friend. At that point, I was secretly labelling myself as bisexual (I still liked boys, right???). I came out to my closest guy friend as bisexual while playing truth or dare over text message, and he accepted it right away. As the summer went on and turned into fall, and the celebrity crushes and the BIG OL’ CRUSH ON MY BEST FRIEND didn’t go away, I began to realize that I could definitely not see myself in a relationship with a boy the way I could with girls. I remember crying about this a lot and literally praying that it would go away. I just wanted to be “normal” and have a “normal” life and it would be so much easier if I could just like boys. This took months to reconcile with myself.
I tentatively asked my best friend if she would ever consider being with another girl. When she said no, my heart broke and I came to the stark realization that not every girl felt this way. I did come out to her, and she accepted me no problem, but I didn’t let slip that she was the girl I wanted to date. I began labelling myself as gay, because the word “lesbian” didn’t sit right with me. I was outed to my school in grade 9, and I remember feeling betrayed, but also relieved because that meant I didn’t have to broadcast it myself. Shockingly, at my Catholic school, nobody cared. I never received flack for it, and everyone was very cool about it.

This was the year I discovered Tumblr, where I went on a journey of self-realization. I put posters of women up in my room, and I downloaded pictures of my celebrity crushes to the computer. I didn’t have my own computer, so I used the family computer for all of this (rookie mistake). One day, my mom came into my room, sat with me, and started asking me questions. I knew exactly where she was going with it when she asked me about the pictures in my room. In my heard I was pleading with her not to ask the question I was dreading—I wasn’t ready to face it. My silent pleading didn’t work, because she did ask it: “I see a lot of pictures of girls, and none of boys…I want you to be honest with me, are you leaning towards that? It’s totally fine, it doesn’t matter to me one way or another, I still love you”. I told her that honestly, I didn’t know. Even though I did know, I just wasn’t ready to say it. I think I was still battling a lot of internalized homophobia. I didn’t know any out queer people in real life, and I felt so abnormal.
Grade 9 was really great. Everybody I told was so supportive and I didn’t have one negative reaction in my peer group. Eventually, my best friend found out I was head over heels for her, but we managed to remain very close. Somehow, I got over her (yes, it gets better!!) and had other crushes and near-relationships with other girls. Then, my buddy set me up with this girl in our grade, and I had my first relationship over the summer right before high school. She broke up with me a couple weeks into grade 10 and naturally, I was heartbroken. I was so beyond upset that my parents definitely noticed. My mom asked me about it, and I broke into tears— in order to tell her what was wrong, I had to tell her I was gay. When I told her that the girl and I had been dating, she said that she kind of figured. She was so supportive and it made me wish I had come out to her earlier, but I really hadn’t been ready.
I had already told my younger sister (who was 11 at the time) that I had a girlfriend shortly after I started dating this girl. She had no problem with it and was extremely supportive. My dad was the hardest. We’d never been super close, and I didn’t really know how to talk to him about anything, so it was hard to breach the topic. It was probably a few weeks after I told my mom that I finally came out to my dad. He told me that my mom had told him, and that he still loved me, but he was concerned about my safety at school (my dad, ever practical). I came out to my extended family a couple years later, via Facebook on National Coming Out Day in 2015. I wrote a massive post because I didn’t want to come out to my family members individually, and at that point it was a non-issue to me. I never received any negative reactions, and everybody has accepted my now-girlfriend as part of the family.

Positive representation matters because it’s what made me realize who I am and also what gave me the courage to let others know who I am! At the time of writing this, I have been out for seven years. As soon as I came out, I felt instantly freer and life was much easier. I am so fortunate that this has been my experience, and that I have been blessed with such amazing and supportive people around me. I look forward to a day where everybody can fall in love without boundaries, and where “coming out” is no longer necessary. Because, after all, #OutIsTheNewIn

21 years to find her truth

I came out to my family and friends at age 21. I am 30 years old now, but I came out in college. I didn’t come to the realization that I was truly gay until then. Now looking back, so many things made a lot of sense and pointed to this truth long before I even knew myself. I always had intense emotional relationships with my guy friends, but I never wanted it to go any further. I was always attracted to women, but I think I pushed that down for quite a while. I thought that maybe I didn’t want to be with anyone if I didn’t want to be with a guy. I realize now that it just wasn’t the right fit for me to be with men. I have incredibly close friends who are guys, but I didn’t and don’t want the physical intimacy with the opposite sex. I met a girl in college who gave me the feelings that I always wished I had for guys. It just fit and felt so right, and I then realized what had been missing all along. I wasn’t waiting for the right guy after all… I was waiting for the right woman. The woman I met in college wasn’t the right woman, but it opened the doors for me to find love in its most true and authentic way someday. For that I am forever grateful.

I’m an elementary teacher now, and I encourage my students to be who they are. We talk a lot about loving ourselves for who we are and celebrating our uniqueness. I want to encourage them to be their own unique self and that they should be proud of who they are. Being kind to others is what matters. I want to help them see how incredible they are in hopes that they take that with them throughout their lives. If I believe in them, then maybe they will believe in themselves too.

Thank you, Dominique for inspiring me to continue live my truth. You are an incredible human.

Here and queer 😉

At twelve I moved from primary to secondary school…to an all girls school the first few years were great, we were all pretty immature still, still played ‘tag’/’it’ in the playground. But then we started maturing and I found myself falling into the shadows. We’d all read the same books, watch the same films and tv shows then discuss like any normal teenage friendship group but while they’d gossip about how hot the main character was- Damon from ‘the vampire diaries’ for example or Theo James as Four in ‘divergent’, I couldn’t deny that these guys were attractive but I couldn’t understand why my friends were SO obsessed with them to the point where I thought they’d see me as different if I didn’t reciprocate the same thoughts. So I pretended. When in reality I had a huge crush on Tris (divergent) or Bonnie (tbf), or Lena (beautiful creatures) but that’s only in hindsight. Of course I wouldn’t admit to myself these feelings because surely they were wrong. There were ‘out’ people in my school but I saw the way they got treated how the ‘f’ slur got thrown at them like they were nothing. And I wasn’t prepared for that. A few years later…at 16, I moved to a different school for sixth form whose community was so accepting. In fact the head teacher was a lesbian and had kids and a family of her own…the first ‘real’ queer representation I’d seen. Slowly I started to come out to people, first to my closest friend who is gay, we’ve belonged to the same theatre group for years- I’d listen to him week after week telling me about the bullies at his school who’d bully him for the fact that he is gay. Through theatre we found acceptance… anyway, back to coming out..:so I slowly started to come out to people at school and no one had a bad reaction….I said I liked girls, I didn’t want a label but I knew that to come out to my parents they’d want one, so I wrote them a note in rainbow colours saying I had a date with a girl and I was indeed a ‘homosexual’ (I was 17 at this point), I handed them the note and ran upstairs into the shower so I didn’t have to face them…they took it very well and said they loved me no matter what..:the term ‘queer’ didn’t make an appearance into my dictionary until a few months later and I wish I’d used that…but with time I hope that coming out won’t have to be a thing, that people can just be who they want to be and love who they want without it being a huge question or debate!
So yes, that’s my story…nearly a year on from coming out and people have been accepting on the whole 🙂

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.

Duda G.

I think I knew that I was a part of the LGBT2QIA+ community when I got overexcited after discovering that a character on one of my favorite TV Shows was bisexual. When I realized that I was a lesbian, after weeks trying to accept that myself, I instantly told my mom, who got a hard time accepting it. But now she completely supports me and I couldn’t be more grateful.
On school, I basically came out to one person at a time ’till all of the class knew. Everyone that I told my sexuality to was happy for me and that gave me enough courage to tell my dad and then my stepmom. I still haven’t come out to my grandparents and I’m not sure if I plan on it.
But if there’s something that I’m actually sure is that talking to other Earpers helped a lot. Simply sharing experiences and hearing their stories was something that brightened up my darkest days and helped me get through my internalized homophobia. I wouldn’t have been able to survive without my friends that offered me all of the support that I needed.

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