Community Rainbow Waves

Loops in my head

I would say I am quite a private person. I don’t cry in front of people and don’t share everything with my friends. I think that’s why I’m finding it hard to accept that I might be gay. It’s even hard to write the word as I’ve never said it out loud to myself or written it down. It just sounds so weird and unfamiliar and not me. I think I worry a lot about being judged and I try to stop myself but I just can’t help but worry about what other people think of me. I’ve tried to be relaxed and wear whatever I want out the house and say what music I like but I don’t even like sharing my playlist with people as I feel like they will judge me. It sounds stupid but it’s just what I worry about.
The main thing that made me think that I might be gay is this girl I met when I was 13. I didn’t have feelings for her then but I was definitely nervous around her and I wanted her to like me. Maybe I wanted to be her, I’m not quite sure. When I was around 16 (I’m 17 now) I started to imagine kissing her. I wasn’t even considering that I might be gay they were just these thoughts inside my head I couldn’t get rid of. I started to imagine all of these different scenarios where we would be together and have a secret relationship. I still think about those scenarios now and they just play on loop constantly in my head. I’m supposed to be studying but I just sit there for several hours straight just thinking about her. She is so beautiful. I could never say anything to her. I would be too nervous, I don’t think I could ever say it to her. I haven’t actually seen her in a year. Can be so obsessed with someone you haven’t even seen in a year? I feel like in some of the scenarios I am making stuff up about her that I don’t even know. I’m not sure if I’m obsessed with her or just really want a girlfriend. I just don’t know and haven’t even accepted to myself that I am gay because it just seems to foreign and something I’ve only been considering for the past 4 months. I just like her so much. Sometimes I have said to myself ‘yes you’re gay’ but then later at dinner with my family I’m thinking ‘ could you actually confindebtoy day you’re gay? Are you really gay?’ And then I start questioning it all over again. It just such I hard thing to think about and accept. I feel like I have control over certain things in my life like school grades and how well I can play the piano and my 5k times. But I don’t have control over this. It’s not a clear cut thing, it is something I am thinking about constantly but not actually getting anywhere. I kind of know deep down that I am gay but I just can’t accept it in my head.
I know my family and friends would be accepting if I came out but I’m not too worried about coming out at the moment. I’m just thinking about if I’m actually gay and just thinking how stuff would change. No one in my life has any idea that I might be gay. It would be a shock to people if I said I was gay. A friend I love known since I was 3 came out last year. I heard through one of my friends that she had a girlfriend. I was really surprised and didn’t see it coming at all. I didn’t talk to her that much but we are still really good friends. I went for walk with her today and I just thought I could ask her how she came out and how she knew she was gay but I’m just too nervous to ask. I know she would be fine with me asking but then she might suspect I’m gay and I don’t even know myself. I think she would be the first person I might tell if I come out. Or maybe just talk to. Although I don’t think I could do that. I feel like I would have to have completely decided in my head before telling anyone. I feel like I don’t want to appear vulnerable and talk about my feelings to anyone. I just want to think about it without anyone knowing.
I have read a few coming out stories where they have said they felt gay feelings at like 8/9 and I feel like I never related to that. But when I started to think about it more, I did in year 8 have this sudden flash of feelings for this girl in my year. I remember almost laughing at myself like you don’t really have feelings for a girl and blamed it on the book I was reading that had a gay couple in it so it was on my mind. But thinking back to that, I did actually have gay feelings at about 12 but I just buried it straight away. Now I have been thinking about it more, even when watching tv, I do find that I am more attracted to the girls in the relationship. I just think to myself ‘I would rather go out with the girl rather than the guy’. in those moments I feel like surely I’m gay. It just feels so foreign and not me. But I think it’s because I just haven’t properly considered it and at the moment I just can’t see myself announcing to the world that I’m gay. But I know I have all these feelings and I still can’t stop thinking about this girl. It’s not like I try and stop myself thinking about it or tell myself it’s wrong. It’s just that it makes me debate in my head ‘am I really gay?’ ‘Do I really have feelings for this girl or is it something you’re just making up in your head?’ I do want to accept it but I just don’t even have the confidence to say it to myself and I don’t even know why. I think it’s because I always thought of myself as ‘normal’ as I do well in school, like sport, play piano and I feel like my parents see me as normal and straight forward and just a standard girl, not to sound too boring but just as a normal person. And I just feel admitting this to myself or anyone else would make me not normal. I think that just scares me. No one suspects this at all so I feel like I can hide it but I don’t want to shove all my feelings down forever as it’ll just stress me out. Anyway, this is the first time I have written any of this down. My heart still jumps whenever I write the word gay but slightly less than the start of this so maybe you could call that progress 🙂

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.

My name is Tracy, and I am me.

It is only when I look back that things really become clear. For example, it is obvious now why I had a crush on my P.E teacher (but then who didn’t!). But at the time I was just a confused teenager trying to make sense of all that I was feeling. I guess that is the same for everybody when they first become aware of themselves as sexual beings, regardless of their sexuality. I don’t know how old I was, I’m guessing around 15? There was a Lesbian couple living opposite my family home, and I remember asking myself if I was like them, but then thinking that even if I was, I wouldn’t know what to do about it. This was the early 1980s, and things were not socially like they are now.

I left school in 1984 at the age of 17, got a job, and was happy just being me. I had no desire to meet anybody but I was aware that getting a boyfriend was the next thing on the list of things that were expected of me by society. I must add here that no pressure came from my family. So I conformed, and had a couple of boyfriends over the next couple of years. Looking back I actually feel sorry for them, they clearly wanted more than I was willing to give. Subconsciously I would never put myself in a position with them where things could progress physically. To me, they were friends who just happen to be male – simple. That’s why they never stuck around long I’m guessing.

Then in 1987 I started my Nurse training in the NHS. Six months into my course and my path crossed with another student who was to become my first girlfriend. We started out as friends. I knew she was gay, she never hid it. But I still wasn’t out, even to myself. Over time though the penny finally dropped and we got closer and closer. She would go on to say that she was just waiting for me to realise for myself, she apparently knew already.
That was when I started living the double life that will be familiar to a lot of people reading this. Luckily I was living at the hospital in nurses accommodation. It certainly made it easier, but hiding this part of me from my family didn’t feel right. My girlfriend, even though 7 years older than me, was also not out to her parents, which in a way made it easier for me to take the easy way out and keep my sexuality hidden from everyone but her.
Around the same time, when my world was rapidly changing around me, my sister passed way from Leukaemia. She was 36 years old and had only been ill for a few months before she died. My Father had died a couple years before this, and then for my sister to die….. I don’t know how my Mother and family (I am the youngest of 5 children) got through it, but we did. As for me, I didn’t want to add to the mix by coming out, so I stayed very firmly in. I can’t in all honesty say that had my sister not died I would have come out because I don’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for me to take the easy way out.

Life settled down, and I was happy, but still living a double life. I kind of found it exciting in the beginning, but as I got older, it became tiring. My girlfriend was accepted into my family, as I was into hers, but nothing was ever said. The more time that passed the harder it got to think about coming out. As it turns out, our families had guessed anyway and were happy for us. They were just waiting for us to say something. We didn’t know this at the time however.

In 2000 the unimaginable happened. My Mother passed away. And for me, devastated as I was I knew the time had come, there was no more procrastinating , I had to come out to my brothers and sister. I was 33 years old, and my girlfriend and I had been together for years. Even then, the thing that made my mind up once and for all, was that I wanted my girlfriend to travel in the funeral car with the husband and wives of my siblings. I remember the exact moment. The others were downstairs in my mother’s house and my girlfriend and I were upstairs talking. My sister-in-law then came and joined us. We chatted about other things to start, then I simply said that my girlfriend and I were a couple, and that I wanted her to travel in the family car behind my mother’s coffin.

That was it. I was out. The relief was immense, but mixed with nerves and grief for my mother. All my Sister-in-law said was “Well about damn time” and hugged me, before going back downstairs where she was of course going to tell the others.
A short time later my girlfriend and I also went downstairs. All my family were in the garden, and when I stepped out there to join them I was mobbed. I found myself in the middle of a huge group hug filled with love and reassurance. It was such a surreal time, grief for my mother, together with the relief of coming out and being accepted by my family.

There was only one negative. After the funeral, my sister’s husband came up to me. I had only seen him a couple of times since my sister passed away a few years earlier, and he said something along the lines of “There’s my perverted sister-in-law”. I’m not sure if he was serious or if he thought he was being funny, either way it wasn’t the time or the place, and he was dragged away by one of my brothers and told to go home.

And that is my coming out story.

The relationship I was in then came to an end after just over 17 years together. However, I am now married to an amazing woman, my real soulmate, we’ve been together for 11 years. I sometimes think my family like her more than me.

I am now 53 years old and I only have two regrets in life. The first is that I never allowed my dear Mum to know the real me, because I was scared to come out to her, and the second is that my Wife never met her. Or my Sister. Or my Brother who also died from Leukaemia 14 years ago.

Apart from that, life is wonderful.

Proud Lesbian

My journey started at quite a young age, maybe around 10 years ago, I was only 13 years old. At that time the LGBTQ2IA+ was poorly represented in movies or TV shows. As the years went by these platforms as well as social media, were slowly starting to represent more of this community. The growth of these platform started to make me realize that maybe there was an explanation as to why I was « different » to others.

By the time I was 15, I had had 2 very small and insignificant relationships with boys. All my friends had serious relationship with their boyfriends and had even taken it a step further than just kissing. I felt like I was being left behind as I always felt scared and uncomfortable to take that next step. I couldn’t understand why I was so scared.

Watching many tv shows I would see more and more lesbian couples and felt like I was being more interested in their representations. I started thinking that there must have been a reason as to why I would be more interested in them and started to seriously question myself on my sexuality.

When I was 16, I knew I liked girls. I was sure of myself. Boys just did not interest me anymore. I was scared though, I had no friends that could understand what I was going through. I felt very alone in this judgy world, no one to share my secret with. Seeing all my friends obsess over who the « cute boy » of class or the school. I felt like I was just in the background just nodding from time to time to not expose myself.
One day I just decided to slowly start talking to my mom about me questioning my sexuality. I was still not confident enough to tell her the whole truth. I was so scared, not knowing how she would react, I was crying. She told me she would support and love me unconditionally no matter who I decided to be. I felt a bit relieved but still scared at how other people would react. I then left it at that and did not speak of it again for years, to her or anyone else.

2 year later, I was going to leave the nest, to go live in a different country. A few days before leaving, that’s when the question I was most dreading came out of my moms lips: « have you figured out who you want to be? ». With tears running down my face I admitted to her that I am a lesbian. She was proud of me and I really felt loved and supported. The hardest thing I ever had to do was finally out there but only my mom knew my secret.

When I moved to London I thought to myself, I’m in a new city, with new people and no one who knows me. So I decided I will be who I want to be and not tailor myself to be fake around people that I know would have judged me for who I am.
I felt such a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
I felt like I was living again.
I was HAPPY again.

A year later I came back home to France. And it was at that moment that my new world came crumbling around me. I found out that my mom had outed me to my entire family right after I had told her. For a whole year my family knew I am a lesbian but kept me in the dark. I felt ashamed and hurt to have my voice taken away from me in what was the hardest thing of my life. She did not do it to hurt me though, she just thought she was helping me.

I have never told this to anyone nor to her but I was extremely hurt by what she had decided to do with my big secret. 5 years later and it stills bugs me a lot. I did not have the chance to come out to my family when I felt like I was ready to. I felt exposed and vulnerable to what people would think about me. However I can not be mad at my mother as family has been very supportive of who I am. But I will always have that thought and feeling in the back of my mind of having been robbed of my freedom.

During so many years I was in a very bad place of my life. Feeling alone in this giant, toxic and hurtful world, not knowing who to turn to in the hardest moments, I was scared. Now that I am proudly out I see the world in such a different way. There are people out there who will hate you for being who you want because their mind has been tailored to think in a certain way. But the way I see the world now, is that in between these haters there are beautiful and amazing people who will love you for who YOU decide to be. There will always be someone out there to love you and support you in your hard times. I am so proud to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, the love and support is incredible.
Love is love and no one should judge you for who you want to be.

Be Proud.
Be Kind.
Be Loving.

Bisexual

My coming out was not the best. I was forced out by an ex’s parent. I was 18 and was in a complicated relationship with my best friend at the time. Unfortunately the future would show me she was neither my girlfriend nor my friend, but that’s another story. She had wanted furniture for her room so I told her I could give her some of mine because I didn’t really use my drawers. Of course that caused commotion at home so I lied and told my parents I was going to move in with her. That way they wouldn’t think I was just giving her my stuff. My mom drove me n the furniture over to her house and I was going to bring the furniture inside. Her Father and my mom started talking while I went to her room to figure out where to out everything. Next thing I know my mom comes up to me and says ” el dice que quieres a su hija.” (Meaning he said u love his daughter) and my heart dropped but I didn’t want my mom to know I was freaking out so what I said was “So”. After that my mother broke down crying and we ended up not leaving the furniture. What followed was being ignored and getting kicked out a number of times. The good thing is now that I’m 30 my mom has become more accepting but I would have loved to have told her when I was ready.

Took a while to figure out who I really was, but now I have found myself

The “identify” title of this post may be a slight lie. See I believe that all of life is a journey, and we are always redefining what we want, and most importantly who we are. Nothing is ever only black or white.

However as this is about coming out, I’ll tell you my story. My story is similar to most. I lived most of my youth in the different shades of grey. You know where most of us live, just trying to be authentic and figure ourselves out. I was a tomboy, who for most of my life got along better with the boys than the girls. However, I knew I didn’t want to be a boy, I just didn’t want to be treated any different. I didn’t want to play with dolls, I’d rather be rough-housing in the dirt than be pretty (or clean!). I hated dresses and would strip them off as soon as I could. Luckily having an older brother and a thrifty mom who probably hated doing my laundry, I mainly got to hangout in boy-shorts, and not much else. I know I am luckier than most, as I got Transformers as birthday gifts and was allowed to be myself, even if I dint know exactly what that was yet.

Now I don’t believe being a tomboy is a precursor for being gay. Its just about those shades of grey. Look at my brother for example, always clean and pristine. Dressed to impress. Hated dirt and trucks. Straight (or rather within the straight range of the grey spectrum where we all dwell). There are no rules, only the expectations others put on us.

Despite this, I never knew I was gay. However, I had no interest in boys, or girls for that matter. I was drawn to characters I could identify with on TV, the less boy crazy more down and dirty girls (think Jo from Facts of Life) but I never knew anyone who was gay, so it just never entered my mind as being a possibility. Puberty hit and boys filled the void, although I never became attached and frankly never had that much fun. Around the same time, my focus shifted from my male school friends, who I felt nothing for, to craving female friendships.

And I fell hard. Not in love, I never wanted to sleep with them. But I wanted to be around them. At the same time, I became less interested in my male flings, but still never thought about the female possibility. I was very guarded. I never touched or hugged my friends. I thought that perhaps was just the way I was. However in retrospect, I think I was afraid. However I never allowed it into my conscious mind.

Believe it or not it was not until university where this changed. And even then it was a painfully slow process. By 3rd year I had girlfriends who would hug and kiss me. However I was still very guarded and kept even my closest friends a safe distance, at least emotionally, away. Then there was one special friend, who managed to breakdown the walls I had built so high, I didn’t even know I was within them. She crawled into my bed and insisted I comfort her (physically not sexually). She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and I am not sure why, but she picked me as the one friend she needed (she had lots of friends, but perhaps she saw something that even I didn’t).

We had an intense friendship that meant we saw each other all the time. That summer we hung out as much as we could. We’d do this thing where we’d have to go try new beers in a new bar every time. One night out with other friends from school, we spent the whole time holed up in the bathroom. One of her friends came in and accused us of being lovers. I laughed it off, neither of us was embarrassed, as we weren’t. I hadn’t even considered it! However that night, sleeping over as I often did, she kissed me. Well tried to. I told her no. Or rather I believe I said ‘not like this’. You see, my walls were still there. I knew I loved her but I hadn’t let myself ever consider anything more. After all, I didn’t know one other person who was gay. Not one! Ellen had come out, but she was a celebrity, no one that I identified with or could relate to. So I just didn’t consider it. I have many friends who are older than me who knew. Who felt it when they were young, when they were around girls. I can honestly say I never did. Until I did.

So as you may guess the friendship ended badly. She didn’t appreciate the rejection and took me as a third wheel on a date (with a guy) a week later. My guess is to prove that she was straight. That she wasn’t interested in me. I am not sure her motives, we didn’t talk about it. I left that night, pulled over on the highway and cried like I had never allowed myself to cry before. I cried until I felt the walls give way, finally giving my heart room to breath. We never spoke again.

However the change in me had started. And now I couldn’t stop it. I started looking into female friendships, trying to figure out why I needed them, no craved them. I was drawn to TV shows with strong female characters and friendships. I joined online chat rooms to discuss them. Through these chats I discovered a whole world of people who were out and proud. Unafraid and apologetically themselves. How brave!

I decided I must be bisexual. Of course, by then my interest in males had completely waned. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since grade school and other than a few drunken, not fun experiences, had no real interest in discovering more about men. After meeting up with some incredible women from my chat groups from Canada and the US, many of us coming out together, I finally ventured into a gay bar with a friend, more confident in myself and who I was, or that who I thought I was. I saw a girl from across the room staring at me. You know the out girl, who knew since she was 14 and had no problems embracing who she was. That was it – hook. line and sinker. And I never looked back.

Now I know I am gay. I would never say 100%, because I do believe the majority of us live in the grey areas, as I said before. Its a sliding scale, its never fixed and hell, who would want it to be. Fluidity is a beautiful thing. It allows us to embrace change. However, in my heart I can only see myself being with women, as this brings me the most happiness, and isn’t that what it is all about? Being happy.

It was a slow start but I’ve been out now 20 years. I’m out to everyone I meet. I have a very important professional job, and I know I can ‘pass’ for straight. However I remember what it was like to feel like something must be wrong with me for not liking boys, to feel completely isolated and alone. What good would I be to this life if I kept this part of me hidden? Who would I be helping, and more importantly who else would feel unseen, if I didn’t live my authentic self?

Who you love shouldn’t define you. But lets face it, it does. My closest friends are all part of this community, because it is a different experience walking through this world with your eyes open. My gayness is an essential part of who I am. I carry it around like a badge of honour. However, I don’t think its that important to define yourself. Rather the most important thing is to be aware. Be present. Listen to what your heart and soul is telling you. Because it knows you, trust me, much better than you know yourself. Just listen. Set aside the fear and chose to exist. In whatever way you define as most authentic self.

Bisexual

I knew that I was bisexual when I was in 10 grade and decided not lie to myself anymore because this is who I am and I don’t want to suppress myself. First I came out to my oldest brother it was funny because he didn’t care much he just wanted me to be happy. Next I told my religious mother she is a catholic. I came out to her right after I told her I was molested didn’t really matter it did it really matter after she expressed her dislike for the LGBTQ+ community, but nonetheless she loved me for who I was. She told me “you are my daughter and I will love you no matter what” so that really upped my spirit. I have not come out to my dad but I plan on it being soon I trust for him not get mad because he once asked me if I had a boyfriend yet then right after asked what about a girlfriend. I felt relieved when he had said that. It made me feel loved. And when I am ready and not afraid I will come out to everyone else my friends and family.

Cheezylezbian87

I first Had an inclination my freshman year of college, when I began to have feelings for my best friend(10/06). I kept my feelings hidden for fear of rejection. I became involved years later, (10/11), with a girl and fell in love for the first time, I knew then who I was. I came out to close friends and family shortly afterwards. The best of them had known about my sexuality for years, so it was nice and easy. It has taken a couple of relationships for me to fully embrace myself. I’m very happy and proud of who I am.

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

Human – but also very much gay

I have had a very fortunate journey unlike many of my LGBTQ+ brothers/sisters/non-binary folk. I became aware of my interest in the same sex from a young age. I specifically remember when I was in elementary school around age six or seven having crushes on my female classmates. At this time, I was unaware that many people across the world thought it was “morally” wrong to love members of the same sex in a romantic way. It wasn’t until one evening (when I was still in elementary school) that I was taking a shower and my mother came in unannounced. She was holding my diary. The very same diary that I expressed my feelings of attraction towards other girls. I don’t remember the exact conversation but I do remember that it made me feel like I needed to safeguard my emotions and keep what I was experiencing a secret, even from my family.

Fast forward to when I started middle school (around age 10-11 in the United States). I got my first “official” girlfriend who was on my club soccer team. I use quotations solely because we were very young & unexperienced and didn’t tell anyone about our relationship. Eventually, during this relationship, I wanted to tell my mom that I liked girls. I panicked but still managed to muster up the courage to send her a text message (classic, I know) while I was at school. I said something along the lines of “I have a crush on …, I don’t want you to be mad and I’m sorry”. I did it. I sent the message. I wasn’t worried about an immediate response because she is a teacher and wouldn’t be looking at her phone until the end of the day. Though, when it was time for me to ride the bus home and confront her, I was terrified. I got home before she did and pretended to be asleep to avoid the dreadful conversation that was ultimately inevitable. When we were finally face to face, I remember trying so hard to keep my emotions neutral but began bawling my eyes out. Her reaction wasn’t as I had hoped. Again, I don’t remember the whole conversation, but I do remember one thing that she said – “I don’t understand, I have friends that are girls and I have never felt this way”. That comment filled me with loneliness. Now, I have always had the “I simply don’t give a fuck” attitude and exterior, but that conversation broke me.

A few years later in high school (age 14-15), I had a different girlfriend who I believe I was in love with that was also on my soccer team. There was one evening my club had a meeting about future events that my mom drove me to. As we were pulling out of the parking lot to go home, my mom asked me a very simple question. She said “are you in a relationship with …? I can see the way you feel by the way you look at her”. It was then that I decided I was not going to lie about it anymore. I said yes and the whole 30-minute drive home, my mother cried in front of me as I sat quietly.

This whole time I think I have talked about my mother in a negative light, but I don’t want to portray her as someone who doesn’t support me. Currently, I am 23 and we have an amazing relationship in which she loves me unconditionally. The way she reacted while I was in elementary, middle, and high school wasn’t ideal, but it was a process for her just as much as me, and I grew to understand that throughout my childhood and adolescence. Mainly she was scared for me knowing about how people treat others once they discover they are a member of the LGBTQ+ community, she has always wanted to guarantee my safety.

I recognize that some people don’t care for my story and that’s okay, but I thought I would put it out there for reassurance for anyone who might need or want it. Unfortunately, not all stories end like mine. A lot of parents don’t understand or refuse to understand, causing an unmeasurable amount of pain, sorrow, distrust, etc. that never goes away for that individual. I want it to be known that it won’t always feel that way. One day you will be able to leave if you decide to. With that, there is a community that will always love you and let you know that your feelings and experiences are valid. You are loved and worthy.

Another topic I would like to speak on is mental health. (I know when will this bitch end omggggg). For my first year of college, I moved away and lived in a house with my friends. It was a truly remarkable experience that I love and cherish – but it is also a place where I experienced my first horrible panic attack. Note, I was very naïve back then and didn’t know what a panic attack was before that. It has been roughly five years since it happened and I still struggle with anxiety almost daily. It is okay to ask for help, it actually takes massive metaphorical balls to do so. Please know that you are strong. You are important. You and your story matters. Thank you.