Community Rainbow Waves

A Lesbian. Happy to love this world without judgement, full of kindness and unconditional love. Can’t forget the jokes that come with it too

When I graduated high school. I found a girl that made me look at this world differently. She gave me what no other guy would and that’s hope. Hope to believe in loving someone for who they are. It was like a blindfold was taken off my eyes to see the beautiful colors this world had to offer. I had never felt the butterflies in my stomach before or the fireworks when we kissed. It was like I found my sense of peace with every kiss, every touch, every breath. My life started to make sense. My best friend at the time was the first to know and she gave me the support I needed. My mom was suspicious at the time and brought me out to eat lunch one day to muster up the courage to ask “are you dating ‘that’ girl?” My heart dropped… I couldn’t believe those words, I never in a million years would have suspected that my own mother, being the traditionalist she is, to say those words. I just stared in shock and she said “just tell me the truth, yes or no?” My next response was “well kind of”, I couldn’t come up with the courage to say “yes, that is my girlfriend” because of how I was raised. I always remember a time when I was little that we passed a same sex couple and she said “look away, I can’t believe they go out in public.” That’s the scene that always kept replaying in my mind when I saw a girl pass by me and telling myself “you can’t like girls”. She sat me at that restaurant telling me “that girl changed you, if you would have never met her you would still be normal.” To this day I still believe my story was easy compared to most. I’ve heard other people’s story that make me give thanks I had the support I was blessed with. After that day it was like a ripple effect. All my cousins called or texted me with almost the same phrase, “we already knew.” I felt like I was kicked out of the closet at that point because I never got to tell anyone, it was always “we already knew and we love you and support you.” To my relief I was happy I didn’t have to tell anyone, but I still to this day fear telling anyone I’m lesbian. (So my relief backfired big time) My father was the one who didn’t take it so well because he stopped talking to me for three years just to process and take a lot of hate out of his heart. Before me getting pushed out the closet, he would pass a gay couple and yell at them for holding hands or being close to each other. So you can imagine afterwards, he was speechless that his only daughter was a lesbian and wasn’t going to procreate with a man and have children with the white picket fence. My parents were recently divorced at the time and to hear both of them finally agree on making me go to therapy to make me “normal”, broke me down. I haven’t ever been a crier because I have always been an emotional rock for my mom and that day I’m pretty sure I could have filled a swimming pool with my tears. I kept repeating “I don’t know what’s happening but when I’m with her I feel relieved, like I’m whole and I love her.” The look on their faces was just disbelief, never have they seen me cry and be so passionate about someone I loved. I remember we all left quietly because they were speechless. After seven years, I can now say my parents love me and accept me for who I am. We can have conversations about my sexuality (even though the explicit ones are kind of uncomfortable and I try to avoid them) and they are more at peace with it. I can finally express myself through my clothing and I wear my suits proudly. I tried the whole short hair thing and I think long hair is a sexier option for me. Now I speak to everyone and just listen to their opinions whether they be for the community or against us and instead of argue with them, I show them what the truth of it all is by just being myself. So when I do get the courage to tell them I’m lesbian they step back and say “huh, that’s not what I expected” and understand that we’re all human. Doesn’t matter who you love, you are human first of all and that’s all that matters. So live like no one cares, love like no ones watching and laugh as much as possible (p.s. you get years back every time you do so laugh back the years you’ve lost in the closet.) I feel like I wrote you guys a novel but it’s from the bottom of my heart. I hope this story can give at least one person a smile and that this community can help you find your light. Have an awesome day and may you live every day with love and kindness. Thanks for reading my story. See ya

Enjoying the journey – bisexual, she/her

I was 26 years old when I finally realized I was attracted to women. Looking back, I have absolutely no idea how I missed it before. I grew up in the southern United States where the idea of being gay isn’t well received. I was raised in the Mormon religion and being gay definitely didn’t align with those teachings so I think my brain worked overtime to justify my attractions as anything other than what they really were. So instead of just growing up thinking I was into guys and girls- I thought I was weird. I remember in high school I had a crush on one of the college girls who volunteered as one of my soccer coaches. She borrowed my hoodie once during a game and I didn’t want to wash it because it smelled like her. But instead of realizing (and enjoying) my crush, I felt like a creep. I would like to say that once I finally realized I was bisexual that it was liberating and exciting, it was actually scary. I didn’t know how to reconcile my religion with my sexuality. The thought of telling anyone and especially my family terrified me. I didn’t want to be judged or viewed differently. I spent a lot of time wishing we lived in a different world. Love should be celebrated in all of its forms and if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s loving people. It took a few years of me slowly coming out to close friends before I finally hit a point of not only acceptance of who I am, but also excitement and pride. I still haven’t come out to my family. I know that their religious beliefs will make it difficult for them and I’m waiting a bit longer to spare their feelings. But in the meantime, I’m learning to honor who I am and be as authentic as possible. I still have plenty of learning and growing to do on my journey, but I’m becoming less fearful and more excited about the future.

Noah, just a boy in a world who doesn’t see him as such

My whole life I’ve known I wasn’t like all the other girls I was friends with, everyday I felt as though there was something in the back of my mind telling me something was off. From a young age, I had always been more of a masculine person, and while yes, any gender can be masculine, I don’t think most little girls wanted to be a boy, be seen as a boy, as badly as I did. But the fact was that I had not been armed with the words that I could’ve used to express myself just yet, living in a religious and very conservative home does that sometimes.

So, when I was about 11 or 12, I met a friend of mine who identified as a lesbian, a word I wasn’t familar with and part of a world I had yet to discover. With her by my side, we figured that world out together, and from that point on, I identified as a lesbian, or as gay rather, because I hated that word for what I now realize was me hating the femininity that goes along with it, while gay was more gender neutral. But back then, I simply didn’t use that word for reasons I didn’t know.

Fast forward to my freshman year of high school, the year I was the most depressed and anxious I had ever been. I was so numb and tired all the time that I was even distancing myself from friends who had been supporting me my whole life. But then I figured out why. It was because I was unhappy with how I look, how I sound, how tall I am, all of that and it was eating away at me.

Before I knew it, I was watching a YouTuber named MilesMcKenna, a trans FtM youtuber who shared stories of his experiences as a trans man and his transition and… I had never felt more at home. I thought about what it would be like to transition into a guy both medically and socially and I smiled a real smile for the first time in a while. And that’s when I knew I wasn’t a girl, I was and have always been a boy who didn’t have the language to put to how I felt, but now I do.

I am Noah. I am trans FtM and I’m proud of who I am, even if only a handful of people in my life know right now. What matters is that I know, what matters is I’m truly, finally, happy.

In the end we only regret the chances we didn’t take.

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community when I was 13 and met my best friend. My best friend is genderqueer and showed me what the LGBTQ+ community is. At first, I was amazed that I had spent so much of my life not knowing about this fantastic community but then, I got to thinking what if I’m a part of the LGBTQ+ community? So being the person that I am, I spent hours upon hours of researching and learning everything I could about the LGBTQ+ community. And after learning and researching until my brain felt like it was going to die, I came to the conclusion I was bisexual. The next day I came out to my best friend and she was accepting. I then proceeded for the next couple of months to come out to friends; they all were accepting. In late December of 2018, I came out to my parents as a lesbian. I didn’t come out to them as bisexual because I knew deep down I was lesbian. Nonetheless, my parents are accepting of my sexuality. The next day I came out to my brother, and he was accepting and then later that day came out as gay to me and my parents; my parents are accepting of his sexuality as well. I then spent the next year coming out to my aunts, uncles, and cousins; and they all are accepting of my sexuality. Overall, I am just so grateful to have an accepting family and friends that I can truly be myself around. I couldn’t ask for a better coming out story.

Kind

I was 19 when I came out to my parents, I remember we were in the living room and I told them I was gay and my mom was like oh yeah I know and I was like how did you notice, and she was like well you’re pretty and you never bring a boy home lol and she was like but don’t worry we love you no matter what. It was a relief and an awesome experience.

Anna, 28, Germany

My Coming Out was 2 years ago.

I noticed early that I not only liked boys, but also felt drawn to the girls. I quickly put those thoughts aside because I thought I was confused. I was in the middle of puberty.

The thoughts always came out over the years. But I still thought I was confused.

This was until I was 26 years old. Then I met her. She unexpectedly showed me what it means to be loved. She gave me love, security and acceptance. She gave me all of these things without expecting anything in return. She showed me what I wanted. WOMEN

My parents had probably suspected this longer. One day I was visiting them and before I could say something they asked me: “when do we get to know her?”

My parents and siblings have no problems with it. They want me to be me. I don’t need to pretend anymore. I live my life. This acceptance and appreciation of my family gives me support and strength for the future. Because I know I can always rely on them …

“Love is love. It doesn’t matter whether you are into a man or a woman. The main thing is that you are loved and accepted. And you feel good. We don’t want more.” This is a statement from my parents.

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zo, Birmingham UK

Lesbian/Gay woman

I realised that I was gay at around age 14, I was never interested in all the boy talk my friends seemed to always want to have but until I started becoming unwell I didn’t think too much of it. Unfortunately at the age of 14 I started developing chest infections and viruses, one after the other which eventually caused my body to develop a chronic illness. I was forced to leave school and spent 3 months housebound, which gave me wayyyy too much time to think!

I didn’t want to be different, there was already too many things that made me stand out, I was fat, short, and shy, along with other things and I couldn’t handle anything else on top of that.

Over those months where I was housebound and then only doing a few hours of schooling a day, I started to knock down all the layers of negative self-esteem that had built up through my life. It was the hardest time of my life but now I know that true happiness comes from the little things, that you don’t need a lot of friends, just a select few that bring light into your life.

I’m out to my close family and friends but there’s still some family members I have yet to have the discussion with. When you first come out it is terrifying, not because of someone else’s reaction but because you are opening up your heart and giving them permission to see you, the complete you for the first time. That’s the scary part!

I used to wish and pray that I was straight or at least into boys but that was never meant to be, I am who I was always supposed to be and I wouldn’t want to be anyone else. I still have a lot of insecurities but I’m gonna keep working through them because above it all, I am proud to be a gay woman.

#OutIsTheNewIn

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.

Talitha

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

I am not really good at writing about myself or my experiences,
I suppose first I should say I am a lesbian.
I have been out and proud for over 12 years probably longer if I really
think about it, I have not always embraced who I was, whether that be
because I am afraid or because I had no role model to really look up to
growing up which I am sure many people say.
In my school it was not okay to be different, being different got you a
one way ticket to hell, when I was in school and just coming into my
sexuality and figuring out who I was as a girl I saw my best friend
being beaten his hair set on fire all because he was gay and he was out
and proud and at the time I didn’t that to happen to me, I didn’t want
to be bullied or beaten simply because I chose to love women and so I
sat in my own little bubble protecting the most important part of
myself.
It took years for me to feel even just a bit confident to admit to my
best friend that I was a lesbian and even longer to tell my mum which
was more of me crying and refusing to actually say the words until she
guessed what it was I was trying to say. My mum was supportive which
doesn’t always happen and in that respect I was very, very lucky I could
have had it much worse.
My father was a different story even though he said he wasn’t bothered
by it, I could tell our relationship had changed and yes it is upsetting
but I moved on I wanted to get rid of any negativity in my life and only
bring about positive change.
Then the worst thing happened, something which set me so far back in my
journey to discover who I was as a woman. My nan went to hospital the
same year I came out, so I hid again from the world, from who I really
was and I pushed it so far down within myself, I had never told my nan
who I was because I was afraid she would hate me. My mum told me after
my nan had died (2012) that my nan knew I was gay and that my panic and
self hatred (I hated myself around this time and turned to ways that
were not so healthy to cope) were for nothing, that I was still her
granddaughter whom she loved with all her heart. Flash forward 8 years
and now I own my sexuality and I am not afraid of it, I have a beautiful
wife whom I love with all my heart and I am an ear for anyone who is
coming to terms with who they are my door is always open to those that
need it and that’s the kind of positivity I want to show the world that
being gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, queer or anything else doesn’t
matter to me as long as you are a good person.