Community Rainbow Waves

A non binary man living free.

I was born a girl. I was always kind of normal person, as a kid, but a lot masculine. At the age of 12, I knew I was gay and at the time, it was a society that wasn’t very ‘welcoming’ to gay people and I experienced that. I didn’t make a coming out to anyone, I just joined with a lesbian friend and people start assuming I was gay too. I noticed my closest friends being weird with me. At school, when we were in gym class, the girls, my friends for ages, would hide changing their closest next to me, and with the time, they started ‘getting away’ and talking behind my back. So, by time it was high school, they all went to the same school and I decided to change to a different school a bit far.
I wasn’t always very good at making friends, so when I lost everyone, I got really scared that I was gonna be alone. But then, about 2 days at high school, a group of girls came to me and asked for me to joined them. They didn’t asked anything about me, they just accept how I was and they loved me. And that was the best time of my life. There, I made friends for life!
By the time I went to college, I had a girlfriend, that in a year in college, we broke up.
I had a really hard time in college, I didn’t have anyone, I was completely alone. And that started to get to me. I had a depression, really bad, I just really wanted to die. I tried. But something at the time told me to hold on a bit more.
I got help and I got better, for a while. And 2 years into college, I had no high school girlfriend anymore and I had a few friends from my class. But I decided to focus and end college.
And now I did, I’m 22 years old and I just ended college.
Buuuut, this was only my story about being a gay women.

At the age of 14, I’ve always knew I was different, I felt different. I always hated my body and how it was. And at that time I discovered ‘trans’. I started searching about it and learning more, how it was done, how much it costs. And in Portugal (that’s where I live), the costs were a lot! I couldn’t afford it, not until I was like 30 years old. So I made a plan. I promised myself that I would end school as fast as I could and I would go to another country and there work and pay for surgery and hormones.
But – and this is an important part for everyone in a similar situation -, things on my head started getting worse. The profound hate with my body was awful. I started to cut myself. In my head, doing that was like a way to get to my really body, that was underneath the one I had that I hated. I also had depressions and 2 suicide atempts.
But one day, November of 2019, a friend of mine – not very close at the time – asked my if I ever thought about transexuality. And I told her the truth and my plan to finish school and go away to become me. And she was this amazing person that said ‘are you crazy?! you gotta start that s*** right now!’.
The first step was to come out to my parents. I came out to my sister in 2016 and she was okay with it. And then I came out to my mother in December 2019, and she was.. . okay…, I understand it is hard for parents and loved ones, but I only want them to be the same as they always were. My mom said that, if this is something I feel and want, it was my path, I need to so it alone. And that okay by me, that’s acceptable.
So, because if the incredible women that supported me and helped me to come out to my parents and ‘ordered’ me not to wait anymore, I started my transition.
Now, I’m about to start hormones and I’m working to get money for my surgery. And I’m happy! Really happy, for the first time in my life!

For anyone it a situation similar – don’t give up! Don’t wait!
If you love someone, go get them, no matter the sex or gender!
If you feel your different, don’t hide it, live your true self!
I know we still don’t live in a society that’s free and that accepts ‘different’ people. In this century, we should not have to hide and we should not have communities. We should all be one. But the world is this not and this amazing community will stand by you and help you and support you all the way and all the time!

We are united as one!

Allison

As a queer woman, I have many coming out stories. The fumbling time I came out to my parents in a pharmacy parking lot, the time I drunkenly sobbed it to my best friend at a bar while an 80s cover band performed Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me” in the background, the multiple times I came out to myself.

I first realized I might not be totally straight when I was in college. Sure, I had been attracted to other girls before, but I marked it up to general admiration. Everyone had thoughts like this, right? It was during my junior year in 2009 that I noticed a girl waiting in the corridor for our class to begin. There was nothing ordinarily special about her, but the way she carried herself captivated me. So, I kept an eye out for that girl, thinking maybe I wanted to be friends with her. She was sporting a baseball cap with the horrible baseball team I cheer for. That’s enough to want to be friends, right? The semesters changed and I didn’t give much thought to the mysterious girl whom I never ended up talking to; though I continued to work my part-time job at a queer owned deli, telling myself I was just an enthusiastic ally.

As fate would have it, who walked into my senior thesis course the following semester? Why, none other than baseball cap girl! Since there were only six of us in the class, we all got familiar, and for the sake of anonymity, let’s name her Kate. Kate and I became fast friends and the need to be near her became too much to ignore. It was like my true self was festering under the surface, but all the years of my small town, conservative upbringing made me scared of what the outcome would be if I let this part of myself out.

In coming to terms with my sexuality, I did what I always do when I don’t know an answer: RESEARCH. I scoured the internet for any helpful articles, I even got books from the library on human sexuality. I searched for representation in the media to little avail. I wanted to find stories like these, from real people who knew the struggle of accepting yourself. I was lost and confused but finally said the words “I’m gay” to myself, out loud.

Meeting Kate was a “click” moment for me. She was the one who turned the light on in corners of my brain and heart that I was trying to suppress. She came into my life abruptly, threw me for a loop and for that, I am forever in her debt. Though the story between the two of us is a phantom for another day, I will always be thankful to this woman and cherish my memories with her because she helped me see my true self.

Personally, I have never been a fan of labels. I don’t like to be put in a box when there are so many little things that make every one of us unique. I never really referred to myself as a lesbian, but that is what most people I know decided to categorize me under. Again, I don’t care for labels, so I never really minded. Then, a few months ago, I was cleaning up at the bar I work at with a coworker. We were having a pint while sweeping the floors when we started a candid conversation about the queer community. He is an open-minded straight cisgender man, so I honestly answered any of his queries to the best of my ability. It was in this conversation with a friend, that I came out once more, but this time as queer. I told him that though I usually prefer women, I would never close myself off to the opportunity of being with someone based on their gender.

So, in closing, much like the world around us, we are never done evolving. You are allowed to be a work in progress. You are allowed to readjust your labels. You are allowed to unapologetically be who you are, because who you are is beautiful and more than enough. No matter how you identify, you are deserving of all the fucking love in the world. <3 AM

Skylar Counts

I think that an internal battle with yourself is one of the hardest things.

I’m sure we’ve all been there. What do you do when your heart is telling you one thing, but your mind is telling you another?

In my case, my internal battle with myself was my sexuality.

When I was in middle school, I had my first girl crush. I didn’t really think anything of it. I was just like, “Oh, whatever, this will go away.” But it didn’t. The feelings persisted and I found myself in a situation I had never been in before — I had feelings for a girl. I remember being so confused and so scared to be myself. Those feelings resulted in me pushing the girl away and ultimately ending our friendship.

After that, I tried to focus on liking boys. And I did like them, even dated a few. I suppressed the part of myself that liked girls and did what my family, friends, and society told me to do — I liked boys.

When I would get a crush on a girl, I would ignore the feelings and focus on a guy that I thought was cute. That continued in high school. I hid a part of myself from everyone I knew and even from those I didn’t know. I was scared, alone, and struggling. Coming from a family who doesn’t talk about feelings, I suppressed what I was feeling even more. As long as they were happy, I didn’t have to be, right?

Wrong.

My suppressed feelings turned into anger. I was angry that I couldn’t be myself, angry that I couldn’t love a girl because of what others would think of it. How could I be living my truth when I was lying to myself? I was in a constant battle with myself; in a constant battle with what my heart was telling me and what my mind was telling me. My heart told me to take that leap and be unapologetically me, but my mind told me to push those feelings so far down to the point where they would become nonexistent. I had to decide if I was going to let society win or if I was going to let my truth win.

And then, when I was a Sophomore in high school, I stumbled upon a show that changed my life — Wynonna Earp. You’ve heard of it, eh?

I fell in love with the show at first glance. The writing, the cinematography, the acting, but, ultimately, Miss Waverly Earp and her being bisexual. I related to her right away and instead of fear, it brought me comfort. For the first time in my life, I was comfortable in my own skin. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was, dare I say, proud.

From that point on, I looked forward to Friday night’s. I could watch Wynonna Earp on the TV in my room and be myself. When I was watching the show, I didn’t have to be the Skylar who only liked boys; I didn’t have to be the Skylar who did what everyone else wanted; I didn’t have to be the Skylar who was scared to be herself. Wynonna Earp gave and still gives me the courage to be myself.

Shortly after I started watching Wynonna Earp, one of my best friends texted me one night and said that he had something he needed to tell me. A few texts later, he came out to me.It was late at night, maybe midnight or one o’clock in the morning, and he asked if he could come pick me up so that we could drive around and talk. So I sneaked out of the house and got in his car.

I remember feeling so free when driving around with him. We were both in a safe space and we had a new sense of comfort with each other. Before we ended our night, we went to Walmart and bought Fruity Pebbles. We ate them in his car and talked, laughed, and made a memory that both of us will remember forever. I almost came out to him that night.

But fear took over again and I pushed those feelings away yet again. It felt like all of my progress flew out out of the window. I was at a loss. I was 17 and, once again, scared, alone, and struggling.

What to do, what to do, what to do…

I lived in that fear for the rest of my high school career. When someone speculated that I was queer, I just shrugged and shook my head. When my mom looked at me weirdly for wearing skinny jeans and a baggy t-shirt instead of more “girly” clothes, I turned away and hung my head. When my family made jokes of me potentially being queer, I laughed along and cried when no one was watching.

I felt defeated, like I was never going to find the courage to be out.

But then I started making friends who were out and proud and that made me feel peaceful. I started being more myself, more my beautifully queer self. And, boy, did it feel good.

I’m 19 now. I’m no longer scared. I no longer have an internal battle with myself. Through my journey so far, I have realized that love comes in many different shapes, sizes, and genders. And with that realization comes the beautiful fact that I can now live my truth. I love humans. I love love. Ultimately, though, I love being queer.

It’s been a long time coming, but all those moments with my friends, family, and society full of fear, uncertainty, and struggle helped shape me into the person I am today. And that is a queer woman, out and proud.

With all of this being said, I want those reading this to know that it’s okay to be scared and confused. Your feelings are valid and you are not disposable. You’re not alone. If you ever need anyone to talk to, you can reach me on Instagram and Twitter @sky_counts.

Here’s to being here,

To being queer,

To being unapologetically you.

Spread your beautiful, colorful waves and remember that in light there is love and in love there is happiness.

#OutIsTheNewIn

Just your regular girl who likes girls

I knew when i was younger that I’ve always felt different, I would only hang out with the boys in my class in would find it way easier to talk to them. But when it came to girls, I always became shy and felt kinda wierd. Now 4/5 years later I know what it is. I like girls. As easy as it sounds, but it isn’t always easy. My coming out was really nice but unexpected though… my two best friends (both girls) were joking with me because I’m always really curious. So one day they said they had some secret of some sorts, I kept on asking what it was and in the end they said that they were dating. And I freaked out, in a good way though. I said to them that I support them no matter what is happening. Then one of them said if I had to tell them something (as in am i gay), and I said yes and I tild them my story and that I had been struggling a lot with it just a few months before it. Lucky for me they were so supportive, i was really shaking when i told them because it was the part that i’ve hidden for almost my whole life. And on top of that, one of them also came out after I told them (lets just call her Laura for example). Laura told me she had been struggling with the same thing… After that we talked the whole night about. It was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. I haven’t come out to my family yet but i think they and actually know that they know because it’s pretty clear. I know that my parents are going to be fine about it, but I don’t know how Laura her parents going to react. They are really religious, but that isn’t my story to tell.

So I’ll introduce my self real quick…
I’m Karlijn, I’m 15 years old and I am Gay
And I’m proud of it!
If you ever want to talk to me about your situation, I’m pretty much always awake so hmu at @karlijn_dmooij on ig. Because I’m here for you

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;

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.

Jess

Where do I start well I turn 18 in two weeks and have the overwhelming urge to finally come out as Queer to my extended family and friends but I know I can’t yet, where I currently live it is illegal to be apart of the community which is hard when you’re trying to navigate the waters and find where you fit in, I’ve known I was apart of the community since I was around the age of twelve, it’s kind of like when you meet your soulmate and people say when you know you know, it’s never a big revelation because deep down it’s a part of you that’s been there all along.

I came out to my parents last year, even though we’ve got an aunt who’s apart of the community it was the most nerve-wracking moment of my life so far, my dad immediately started changing the pronouns he used when talking about my future partners and marriage and all in all was as supportive as one could hope – I mean he didn’t jump over the chair and give me a hug but I could always feel his acceptance was there. My mum still talks about my future husband and how everything going to change and I’ll end up with the opposite life to what I’ve currently got my heart set on, she talks about my prince charming and honestly It does break my heart that I can’t give that to her but I can still have a great love story even if it isn’t how she’s always pictured it.

I live my true authentic self in secret online and for now, that’s more then I could ask for,
but one day, someday in the next three years I promise myself I will come out to everyone.
I’m more than ready.
I’ve been ready for a while now, it’s just about finding the safest time to share my
story with my family.

xoxo

My journey: From then to now

My journey started young, but took quite a while to get where I am now.

I was 8 years old when I had my first indication. Now at the time I had no idea what it meant. I was on a little league softball team with all girls. There was this one girl whom I absolutely adored. She was older than me and took to me like a younger sister. I loved all the attention. I didn’t really understand at the time, but I remember the feeling. I wanted her to hang out with me, hug me, play with me, and no one else. I would get insanely jealous and do crazier and crazier things just to get and keep her attention. Because when it was on me, I was so happy and warm, and felt like the most special person in the world. At the time, and years looking back, I believed this just to be normal. I just really wanted to be her friend. After that season we drifted, she was older after all and moved on to middle school and I stayed in elementary.

Then when it was my turn to move to middle school, I got a new neighbor. She was exactly my age, only three months younger, so we would both be going to school together. I hated her at first, honestly I’m not sure why, she did nothing. But that hate eventually turned to a strong, strong like. And, since she lived right next door and we were in the same grade, naturally we did everything together. We basically lived at each other’s houses. We were completely inseparable and spent every waking moment together. We became close. We used to cuddle and hold hands, kiss each other on the cheek, hold each other as we cried. Without knowing it, she had become my everything. I didn’t realize most of the things we did were not just friendly things. Not until I turned 12 and came across a show called South of Nowhere. It featured two female leads who fell in love with one another. It was like something clicked inside me, and a piece of me was revealed. I didn’t admit it to myself, but deep down I knew.

With being so young I turned to my mom. I explained everything to her, and I remember she was polite but didn’t understand. She asked me why I felt this way, why that show, with the girl couple, made me think I was that way. I told her it was easy.

Now being young I couldn’t articulate that I didn’t really mean easy; I meant that everything had just fallen into place. I remember she told me it was just a show, scripted, and that life was never that easy, and that if I was into girls it would only make it harder.

I turned to my best friend next. Told her of what I’d discovered and how I felt. She seemed shocked but curious. We stayed close for a few weeks until one day she kissed me. I had read in books how your heart accelerates and you breath catches in you throat. I had thought that was just fiction, but in that moment I felt everything. It felt like fireworks and everything everyone had always said. But then she pulled back, told me that it was a mistake, and ran off.

I didn’t see her for weeks. I was completely heart broken. I tried to talk to her, to get her to even just look at me in class or on the bus, but she didn’t. Finally she came to me with an ultimatum. She was straight and could not be friends with me if I felt the way I did, if I was the way I was. So I told her I made a mistake, that I wasn’t any different from her. I just got caught up in the show, thought it was cool. We stayed friends after that but not nearly as close. And we drifted away in high school.

I had pushed that revelation so far down in my mind that I didn’t think about it. I still had feelings of course. I would see a pretty girl and get this urge to talk to her, to make her like me and be friends. But I always told myself it was just because I wanted a new best friend. Or i wanted to be like her, look like her, that’s why I found her so pretty, so interesting.

I faked crushes on boys and had fake boyfriends. But we never went further than making out and even then it was gross and uncomfortable. But I thought that’s just how it was.

Then finally I went off to college. I discovered this YouTube channel on a fluke, of two women happily married. I watched every single video on that channel. I took “am i gay quizzes” and did so much research you’d think I had a paper to write. Finally after years and years of pushing down who I really was, I decided to try accepting it. All of my research led me to realize what I was feeling wasn’t bad or abnormal. Others were out there with the same experiences. So I started to accept it.

A year later I officially came out to my mom. It took me almost 10 minutes just to utter the words. “Lesbian” stuck in my throat like a brick. I’d never said it aloud before. I cried so hard after just saying it, it was so freeing and felt so good. My mom was pretty accepting which I was thankful for.

I came out to my new best friend who said she really wasn’t surprised and was extremely proud of me.

Next was my dad, he wasn’t as accepting, didn’t understand. But eventually he came around. A few years after I told him he amended one of his statements about my future husband to maybe future wife and I cried.

My sister was a bit funnier. I told her at lunch and she did a spit take. Told me she should have known by my giant pause beforehand. But she had gay friends and was very supportive also.

I was so incredibly lucky that my family was supportive. I was so lucky that they still loved me and accepted me for who I was.

I still have days where everything seems impossible. Where I’m so frustrated at the world for not accepting my community or being cruel to them. But then I have days where I see happiness and love. Where I remember how far we’ve come, how far I’ve come, and I’m so incredibly proud.

Now, at 23, I’ve just come to realized that maybe I’m not so monogamous. That made the term polyamorous also suits me quite well.

I haven’t said this part aloud yet, or told anyone. So if you’re reading this, surprise, it’s my second coming out. I just might be a polyamorous lesbian.

Either way, I’m so glad to be apart of this community. And although I may not have it all figured out, that’s alright. We are constantly evolving and changing.

And I know that either way, whatever happens or whatever way I choose to identify: everything will be okay.

Mica

Hola. Me llamo Micaela, soy de Argentina. Quisiera contar que soy bisexual y lo sé desde los 8 años. Pero recién a mis 25 pude contárselo por primera vez a una amiga y luego a mi hermana mayor. Fue gracias a que conocí a una compañera de trabajo suya y me gustó. Se lo conté llorando porque también le dije que durante toda mi infancia y adolescencia estuve enamorada de una compañera de colegio. Mis dos hermanas lo saben (soy la del medio), mi mamá, una tía y unas amigas. Pero no mi papá, porque no sé como podría reaccionar. Empecé la psicóloga hace un año porque supe que no iba a poder desentenderme mucho más tiempo de la situación. Sufrí mucho internanamente, lloraba todas ñas noches casi y no podía contárselo a nadie. No hay peor soledad que el mirarse al espejo y no reconocerse. Y esto me pasó por muchos años. Aún no me suelto del todo, pero cada día es un paso más a descubrirlo. Gracias por el espacio.

Bisexual

I accepted within myself that I was apart of the LGBT+ community in late middle school. I’ve always known I was attracted to the same gender, but when I was younger I expressed it as an appreciation for women before I was able to understand how I really felt about both men and women. I denied it for years as there are a few VERY vivid memories I have of people assuming I was lesbian before I even knew what I was. I guess these traumatizing moments can really hinder a person’s ability to be open up about themselves, but I finally met a girl in my junior year of high school that didn’t make me want to hide anymore, and she happened to be the first person I ever came out to and the first girl I dated. I became comfortable with myself, with my sexuality, and with living my honest truth from there on. Having other LGBT friends has made me feel accepted and sharing my inner thoughts have reaffirmed a feeling of validity. I don’t feel the need to share a coming out story in mass viewing on social media, but I know I can freely express myself to new people and not feel judged. I struggled with family acceptance for a short while as my older brother is completely gay and my parents always knew and easily accepted him when he came out, but they weren’t expecting their second child, their daughter, to be LGBT as well and so when it was my time, I did not receive the same enthusiasm. It took about half a year for my parents to settle into this reality of mine, but in the end they love their children no matter who my brother or I love. Coming out to friends was easier, most of them weren’t surprised, but they were very supporting and I am always thankful for the love I continue to receive from those even after sharing the part of myself that I’m always most anxious about. Love is love.