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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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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 am a queer non-binary individual that believe in love!

I knew that i liked more than one gender when I was 12, but i had no concept of sexuality and even gender at that time. Now, as a 15 year old, I am still figuring out who i am and who i want to be in this world. Sexuality and gender and fluid and beautiful things that anyone should be able to freely express. I am so glad to be a part of this community, and I hope that I grow more and more.

From Fear to Pride

According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent. I discovered myself as such when I entered my first year of high school. Our sexual orientation, we’ve had it since birth. It’s just that it can take time to discover ourselves and to assume it, and to say it around us when the urge comes to us. Even though I’m almost 17, I haven’t told my family yet because I’m afraid of their reaction (even if I assume it completely). Only my friends know it and for the moment it’s enough for me. I will surely tell them when I turn 18 with the freedom of a young adult. You shouldn’t deny yourself or be afraid of being because of what you are deep down inside. It is preferable to look for yourself to be the most beautiful person possible. What I just wrote may not be understandable with my spelling mistakes and everything else 😅 but for the moment I feel happy. I hope this text will help other people because time is an eternal present.

Power in knowledge

I’m 17, and I don’t know myself. Or at least I don’t think I want to know myself. As a child, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to because I didn’t have any siblings (other than a dog). I turned to the media, video games, and fictional characters from TV shows and movies to feel a connection to someone or something. Man, I would sit in front of the TV as a kid and watch these shows where I saw these beautiful people and I would always imagine myself pretending that I was their friend. And as I got older, the same thing happened where I continued enjoying characters. But then around my older teenage years, I realized that maybe it wasn’t an “obsession” with the characters, it was that I really liked them. And I was confused because no one had ever really mentioned this feeling to me, but in my mind, it just made sense. And I’m a relatively athletic person, so I got the whole “tomboy” thing as a kid, so people probably chalked it up to that. But I didn’t. Because, as of recently, I figured out who I was. And while only select people know, it’s cool to like the best of both worlds. Like God must have invented males and females for everyone’s enjoyment, so why not enjoy them both? And I’m lucky to be able to say my parents would be accepting of me, but in a way, I feel like they know, so I have avoided making it a “thing,” because why should they focus on a part of me that’s just who I am? There is no reason. And thanks to many TV shows, like Wynonna Earp and their amazing characters and cast, and movies, and just people in general, they have helped me with who I am.

Differences aren’t a bad thing – Courtney G

I would say that I always sort of knew that I was not aligned with the social norms of the society around me. I knew I was a little different because as a girl, I hated dresses and pink and I loved playing in the dirt and racing the boys in my class. I know that those differences alone didn’t make me sexually different but I felt it was a small sign that who I was in the sexual manner was different. My cousin ended up coming out long before me. He was just a few months older than me and he was my best friend. Seeing as I grew up mostly in a very religious area and was raised in that religion, I learned that homosexuality or gender fluidity was wrong and would send you to hell. So at first, I didn’t understand my cousin much because I was raised to think that sexuality was a choice. I soon saw that he was still the same guy who was my best friend and that I absolutely adored. We still laugh about it to this day, but he knew that I was going to come out someday. As I entered high school and progressed in understanding myself, I knew that I did have strong feelings for women and that men never really interested me, romantically or sexually. I tried to push this down and deny that part of myself but like one of my role models had mentioned is that you can’t really understand yourself without understanding your sexuality because it is such an integral part of you and who you are. I also pushed down ever multiplying thoughts about homosexuality because my mother was very homophobic. So on I went ignoring that part of me and hoping that one day I would fall in love with a man. Then the summer of my junior year in high school I went to ALA Girls State, which was a state camp for girls to understand how government works and all that good stuff. That was where I had my first crush. I really had never had a crush before that I mean not to that intensity. If any of my friends had asked I would have made something up about who I liked at the time. But that summer, I had my first crush, and it was a girl. The moments I realized that I was crushing on someone, I started to panic and try to talk myself out of it. But there was no talking myself out of it anymore. As the time at that camp had come to an end, we had all grown very close and I decided to come out to them. It went very well. I felt so confident about it and was so grateful to have had such a supportive group of girls to come out to first. Not long after, I had my second crush on a girl on my lacrosse team. Let me tell you, it was a hard crush. But really it just helped me understand myself and the feelings of attraction. At that point I was getting a lot more comfortable in my sexuality. I had already come out to some friends and my cousin. Another maybe month later, I was on a cruise with my mother and boyfriend, now step father, and that was when my mother decided to drag me out of the closet. My mother and I have always had a very strained relationship and this really did not help. She really asked me if I was homosexual and at that point I was done denying it. So I said yes, hoping for a better reaction than I got. I didn’t get what I was hoping for. She ended up guilt tripping me and keeping my own money away from me to try and make me not love women. I would as for $10 of my own money that she was holding on to for a souvenir and she would say, “can you not be gay?” as an answer. I ended up having to promise that I would not “be gay” until I was 25, which I really just said to make her leave me alone. I then started to think that she already knew that I liked girls and I wondered how she knew, so I asked. The answer was that she had gone through my phone and my texts and found out. It wasn’t a great. So after that we had many heated talks about my sexuality but in the end she’s still homophobic and probably will never accept it. She and my stepfather think that it’s a phase because “studies show that girl’s sexuality is fluid until they are 25”. As I am distancing myself from them, I am becoming more comfortable and happy with who I am. Thank you to the entertainment industry for being the example and showing me that love is love and that I am okay the way I am. Big thank you to The 100 and Wynonna Earp specifically. I don’t have a label for myself at the moment because I am still discovering who I am. But what I do know is that I am who I am, and that is good enough. STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Lauren. I’m a 24 year old disabled woman from the United States. If you’re taking the time to read my story, thank you. I hope something I’ve written encourages you.

I am a Lesbian.

Yes, you read that correctly. I’m disabled and a lesbian.

No big deal, right? Wrong!

Don’t get me wrong, I love being lesbian and loving who I wish. It wasn’t always that easy though. Due to a conservative Christian, non denominational church background I grew up from day one believing I must be straight. My parents made comments about my getting married to a dude and having children so many times I lost track. Every time they did, something inside me broke a little more, until….

I dated a woman in secret while living with my parents. It was a long distance and we never managed to meet in person and the relationship ultimately ended, but during that time I learned so much about myself. I became much more confident in myself as a person and as a Lesbian.

Ultimately, my parents and I clashed over religious views among other things. I was invited to leave their home and I did. Though I still attended church with them

October of 2019 – I’d been wanting to leave the church for a long time as I felt it was no longer for me. I texted my mother to inform her I was no longer interested in attending church. She replied that she was disappointed and heartbroken. My father’s reaction was similar, but I’d expected it.

Since moving into my own place and telling my parents I was no longer attending church, I’ve felt so much freer to express myself and be who I am. Although, before all that I attempted suicide twice before ultimately embracing every part of who I am. I know in my heart that my parents and conservative friends that I grew up with will never approve of my being a Lesbian. (That’s why I haven’t told them) After 20+ years of a religious upbringing I know that to tell some people who I am would only lead to arguments and hurt feelings.

For every hardship there’s a rainbow at the end of it all.

I’ve found this community within the last year or so as well as an extremely supportive Discord community that has welcomed me with open arms. I feel stronger, kinder, and better, overall then I ever have before in my life. Throughout my journey, I have met so many amazing, loving humans and I am grateful for every single one.

Was it hard?

Absolutely!

Do I wish my story were different?

No.

If I hadn’t gone through everything that I have I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. I don’t think I’d even be sitting here writing this, and hoping that it makes a difference to you, dear reader. I’m grateful to be me. I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful for everyone reading this.

If I can leave you with one lesson, it would be this, be GRATEFUL for who you are and where you’ve come from. No matter what your background is, no matter how dark or challenging it may seem right now.

IT WILL GET BETTER!

One day, you may share your coming out story with people, as I have done here! Be grateful for who you are, because someday your story may mean the world to someone else who is struggling with their sexuality. When you share your story to help someone else, they will be grateful, even for a moment, for your existence. They will spread that gratitude and courage to others.

Let’s build a better, more grateful, inclusive world one rainbow at a time!

Lesbian or bisexual who prefers girls, I’m not sure.

I realized I liked girls around the age of 11 but had been confused for many years before that. When I was 8 I chose to cut all my hair off and become one of the boys. I had heard about transgender people on school and thought that explained how I felt. It felt good walking around in clothes from the boy section and looking like a boy but whenever someone actually thought I was a boy I’d get uncomfortable because that wasn’t who I was. Some older girls that I looked really up to would always bully me at school, call me a boy-girl or ask me “what are you?” And refer to me as “it”. They would call me gay as if it was something wrong with it way before i even realized that I was gay. Only a few months after cutting my hair I chose to grow it out again. I started dressing very feminine and didn’t want anyone to think I was different at all. I remember crying myself to sleep when I was 10 because all the other girls had crushes on boys and I hadn’t liked anyone yet. We were making PowerPoint presentations at school when I figured out that asexuality was a thing. I spent the entire class to google different sexualities and didn’t have anything to present at the end of the class. Thinking I was asexual was calming because I knew I wasn’t the only one but scary because I didn’t think I would be able to love anyone at all. I realized I liked girls when my best friend came out when we were 12. Her coming out made me realize that girls could also be an option. After I thought about it for a while I accepted that I liked girls and started coming out to people. I only came out to about 5 people, but one of them told some one else and the rumor started to spread.

It has been going around for a few months now. People have been asking my friends about it too. Some of them have told them but most of them have just said they didn’t know. Im starting in 8th grade in a few weeks which means switching to a bigger school. I want to take the opportunity and change myself, give them no reason to believe the rumor even tho it’s true. It would probably not work since I’ve known over half of the people for over 7 years already but I’ll probably still give it a try. I don’t want to get any attention at the new school. Blending in is my goal but I’m pretty bad at that. Im tall, big and very socially engaged. If someone is homophobic I will call them out for it, if they make a racist joke I will tell them that it’s not okay. Arguing about immigration politics with white supremacy teachers and informing other students about different sexualities and gender identities doesn’t make you blend in. It makes people think you’re gay and supporting terrorist. Supporting human rights are looked at like a bad thing. I really don’t wanna come out anymore. After hearing what people have said about me only because they’ve heard from someone that I’m gay I really don’t think I ever will. I recently found out that one of my best friends are homophobic and that she thinks gays deserve die and that it’s wrong to be attracted to people of the same sex. She told me that she loved me the same week. As much as I would love to leave her behind and not talk to her again, I can’t. Because she cares about me as a straight person so if I just keep it that way, it won’t be a problem. And to be honest, I care about her too. I shouldn’t, but I do.

I don’t know if any of this made sense but I’m only 13 and English isn’t my native language so this is kinda hard.

Respect to everyone who has come out. I’m very proud of you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. You’re brave and I hope you’re well. And for those who haven’t come out yet, I’m cheering for you<3

Peacefully free.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Ana and I am 32 years old.
My coming out story started when I was 12, I was a kid. In a world that at that time did not understand and we’re very close minded. I am the oldest of 9 and also a Mexican, my family.. Well they are your topical Mexican family. Strict and very in tuned with their old ways and values. At 12 I figured something was “wrong” with me. “Wrong”.. It’s crazy how much we are made to believe that there is something ” wrong” with us. Anyways, I had a girl best friend in school that I started having weird feelings for. I didn’t understand and didn’t know who to even talk to. I mean, what do I even say?. What if they look at me weird or something? These were scary times. I had an adult figure in my life that I trusted so much. When I couldn’t understand, I went to this person and told them what was going on. What I was feeling. This person convinced me to talk to my parents. So, I did. And man oh man did I regret it. My first thought was to “come out” to my mom. I mean, who actually goes to their dad first, right? Haha. After, I believe 20 minutes of beating around the bush, I told her I thought I was bisexual. That I was having feelings I couldn’t understand. My mom replied with, “it’s a phase, it will pass”. She made feel like, like my feelings weren’t valid. That things I felt weren’t relevant because things were just a phase. I agreed with her and completely hid who I was until I was 14.
At this point, feelings were strong. Things just couldn’t be hid anymore. I had a talk with my, then best friend, and it took me one week to come out. I was so scared to get told it was a phase, to get my feelings shut down. Or to simply be looked like I was weird . But the most amazing, beautiful and incredible thing happened. She hugged me and said, ” no matter who you are, I love you. You are Ana to me. Today, tomorrow, next month. No matter what you will be Ana”. And that my friends, that is when I realized that life was more than what I thought. That all people thought different. And that I, I was going to be okay, no matter what happened. I felt so free, I felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could finally stand tall and breathe. Those simple words that to her might have not meant anything, was the fuel I needed, the strength to be me. I then proceeded to come out to a few other friends and unfortunately, the word spread to my parents. My very old fashion parents. One day I came home and they were on the table sitting down, they wouldn’t look at me, they looked upset. You know, that look you see when your parents are super mad at you and you feel the colour disappear from your face. I knew, I don’t know how but I knew. I sat down. And through a lecture about Adam, Eve, the Bible, and our values. I was forced to come out, again. After that, I went years of ” praying the gay away”. I went to church everyday, I was made to pray everyday. I read the Bible till I knew the pages down to the last wrinkle. I am Catholic, rosaries is what we do. I learned how to pray it in different ways, for different reasons. But through it all, my best friends words replayed over and over in my head. And I when I felt like I didn’t have no more fight in me I would ask myself. “Who is Ana?” . And my answer to myself was always the same “I am Ana, and I am free”. But unfortunately, at 16 I gave in to my deepest darkest demons and tried to commit suicide. I bought some pills from a person in school that sold drugs. I went to the bathroom. And I took, every single one. Next thing I know I was in the hospital, getting my stomach pumped with nurses and doctors yelling but everything was so faint. After it all, my dad said I left him no choice and he locked me up in a mental institution for months. With no visitors but him, no communication with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts. And just when I was losing my mind, a staff member said to me. “You know there is nothing wrong with you right?, I understand you. I have been you and all I can say is, it gets better.” Then the words from my best friend those years ago just slapped me like my mother when I stepped out of line and then I remembered. “I am Ana, and I am free!”. In my time there I found myself. I had time to think, to figure myself out. I then knew I wasn’t bisexual. I was a lesbian. It was so good to say it out loud to myself and anyone who would listen. Many many things happened after that. Many fights, I got kicked out of my parents home but I said, enough. No one will tell me who I can and can’t be. And I fought for myself, even when everyone gave me their backs. I got married with a woman and boy was that a trip. Then I got divorced over domestic violence and luckily my parents allowed me to be back home till I got back on my feet. Anyways I’m getting side tracked here sorry, haha. My point is, I know coming out is not always a pleasant story as some others. It’s full of emotions, confusion, theories of how it will be. So many things happen with different outcomes, some we see coming some we don’t. I don’t hold a grudge against my parents. I don’t hate them, hate is a strong word. I understand that there will always be people like them. People that will ask why? That will say ” you’re confused” or “it’s a phase”. But people like that is why I fight to be me. If someone asks me why I don’t date guys I ask them, well why don’t you date the same gender as you. Their answer is usually the same, silence. I fight To prove to them that this is not a phase. This is me. This is Ana, and I am Free..

Rachel N.

I knew I was queer from a young age. I remember watching Willow’s journey on Buffy and seeing that on screen just felt right. But I was young, and terrified of that feeling. I grew up in a city in Massachusetts, went to church every Sunday with my family, sang in the choir, went to CCD and was searching for a strong connection with my faith. At times I found it, but other times, I felt like I just didn’t fit there. As I grew up, I became more obsessed with the feelings I was having about my sexuality. I would stay up all night looking up things like “how do you know if you’re gay” and on message boards trying to find people who might feel the same way I do. Middle school and high school was hard. My friends were talking about cute boys and “hot” male actors. But I liked the female actors, and I didn’t think the senior on the soccer team was the most attractive thing on two legs. But I pretended I did. And honestly, there were a few boys I thought were really nice and cute, and I would talk about them. But in reality, I was much more interested in the senior girl that played soccer. But I couldn’t admit that; to my friends or myself. These feelings of being different and knowing my sexuality wasn’t status quo ate at me for a long time. I ended up coming out my senior year in high school….via twitter…..to impress a girl. (it wasn’t the best idea. I wasn’t ready, and my friends weren’t ready to talk about it with me). Honestly, it just made me feel like even more of a freak, and in that time where I am suppose to be happy and finding myself, I lost myself more and more. And it took a long time to get back to the person I knew I was. Ten years later, I’m still not there.
About a year after that I came out to my parents (again to impress a girl, I wasn’t ready), over the phone on a cold night in February. They weren’t exactly thrilled. It came out of nowhere and they didn’t really know what to do with the information. And honestly, neither did I. We didn’t talk about it more than twice. The first time my dad told me to keep this to myself, and the second, when my mom told me not to tell people when I went to study abroad in Ireland. I talked about it a little bit with one of my sisters, but never felt fully safe to with the other because she would always make homophobic jokes and comments, specifically to the lesbain community.
For most of my life since coming out, my sexuality was looked at as something to mention or comment, not to accept or embrace. And that made learning how to love myself and feeling like I am worthy of love quite difficult. I spent almost every weekend in college black out, or close to that drunk trying to find someone who might find me pretty enough to kiss or have sex with. I didn’t care who it was, I just wanted to feel something or fit in. For years, no one found me pretty enough. No one wanted to love me. There were a few times someone kissed me or went to bed with me. But no one who wanted to let it be known. I was always a secret. And all through college, when I was suppose to be finding myself and figuring out who I was and where I fit, I spent getting drunk and absolutely hating myself. And trying not to let anyone know how deeply these feeling were.
When I was a senior in college I got my first girlfriend. Finally, someone who wanted to love me, someone who was willing to tell other people that she loved me. We played on the soccer team together and although our relationship was brief, I am so thankful for it. It was the first time I believed that someone could love me and all my weird. After we broke up, I didn’t feel that way anymore, but it got better. After years of working on it, she has come to be one of my best friends. We both agree we never should have dated, we are WAY better as friends. But I am thankful for that special time we shared. About a year after that relationship, I fell Wildly in love with a beautiful woman who was just coming into her bisexuality. We started dating and almost 5 years later we are now engaged. By allowing myself to be loved and finding a safe space to grow I finally feel safe enough to step into my truth.

What I have come to realize is that I spent SO long trying to fit in, trying to make sure I had pretty friends, and accepting that I was just the fat ugly queer friend that they kept in their circle for good measure that I never learned who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. Now, after cutting off ties with people who made me feel like shit, and having a supportive partner who supports me in everything that I attempt and explore I am starting to let myself be free. I am starting to allow myself to love me. I still struggle with it. I am more unkind than kind to myself. But I am working on it. I am learning to love my queer self and letting all my colors show.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.