Community Rainbow Waves

Gay

Hi, I’m Monika and I’m from Poland. As you can know, in my country being no-heterosexual human is still very controvercial… Last year on Pride Paradę in Białystok, 5 thoustand pseuo-catholic man in t-shirt with inscripions about “God” interrupted the march. They were yelling to participants that they are preverts and should get the fuck out of their city. Finally they were threwing bricks at the participants, many of them needed to stay in hospital. This was happend because our government is lead by homophobes and with the church, before the parade, they were calling to “stop deviants”. In some cities and towns local governments passed the law called “zone free of lgbt ideology”… You can see how much, when you search in google “atlas of hate”. So it’s very difficult to live and come out in country like this… But I’m out! I want to tell a story about my coming out in my study group. I study medicine, presently on 3rd year. This story was happend at the end of 1st year. We were sitting in classroom and waiting for the last class of chemistry. Somebody ask the question “What would you do if your son would be gay?” and than it all started… My friend, who come from very catholic family said, that she would sent her son to the exorcist. I was totaly shocked… Then my other friend said that he would sent him to the good psychologist to treat him from” this”. That was very painful for me, because we’re going to be doctors, we can’t discriminate anyone… So I stood up and said “I’m lesbian!” Everybody quieted. Then few people said that is okey, good etc. I can say that this evet changed mind in my group and nobody said anything against LGBT community later. Because of it, I think it’s so important to be out, to change stereptyphical thinking about LGBT community and to support other people! In this moment I want to thank you Dominique for your coming out! It means a lot for people like me, which sometimes live in hostile envitonment and have to struggle with this everyday.

QUEER

I started thinking I was into girls when I entered 6th grade and this girl just made me feel different. I questioned my sexuality for while not really knowing if I just wanted to be her friend or if I liked her. And then after I finally knew I definitely like women I started wondering if I even liked boys plus now I knew there was also non-binary people and was so confused !
But I just wanted people to know I wasn’t straight so I came out to one of my friends when I was 14 and slowly people on my grade ever assumed I liked girls or heard it from someone. No one made fun of me or bullied me and I’m so grateful for all the lgbtqia people who made it possible for that to happen.

And last year I came out to my parents on my 16th birthday and they kind off already know my dad’s response was actually « we know you like girls » sooooo guess I wasn’t really subtle but I like to see it as my parents quietly watching grow and understand myself.

So yeah I’m pretty lucky and to be truthful the only real problems I’ve had are with my own insecurities. I just don’t really talk that much about my sexuality because it feels like I’m taking to much place so I have to sit through my straight brother explaining homophobia to me (and my family, he definitely an ally I just don’t always feel like I’ve experienced enough to actually debate about it with him )

I am so happy that there are safe spaces like this for the community and I just want to say that if the people around aren’t accepting of your sexuality they’re the problem and you are beautiful and strong and loved

Homosexual, Panromantic

I come from a religious family, practically raised in a church. I had gay family and in my head with my teachings that was fine for them to live that way but I could never choose that because it was wrong. I had thought it was a choice. Until the 8th grade when my best friend came out, and slowly through conversations she had made me realize that I too was possibly part of the LGBTQA+ community. Even then some part of my brain desperately wanted to be straight, knowing that my family likely wouldnt accept me. I’d pray and I’d pretend that if I just didnt act on that side of me then it would go away. In high school I became friends with somebody who was pansexual, lots of people actually but this one happened to be a senior while I was a freshman. She asked me very outright while we were alone if I was attracted to females. This came as a shock but I found myself answering yes. Still believing myself to be bisexual. By the end of the year I had wrote a poem about my sexuality, and posted it over Facebook. Surprisingly most people were incredibly supportive. However, my aunt had called to tell me how proud she was of me and ended up outting me to my mother. Who was less than understanding, I was grounded and forbidden from hanging out with friends the night of prom. (She wouldnt allow girls to really sleep over anymore either.) It took until senior year for me to come to terms with and realize that I was just simply not physically attracted to men. Which is when an uncle I had only met as a toddler came up. He came out to my father, and then proceeded to out me. My father is very religious and often used gay, queer, and fag as insults. He never talked to me about it, but I noticed he changed his language around me. When we accidentally ended up in the middle of a pride event he kept bringing up how love is love. I guess subtle support is better than none. My mom still doesnt fully accept it. Over the years I found myself having emotions for guys, but never being able to express them, cause the physical attraction just wasnt there, and I believed it wasnt fair for either me or them to be in that type of relationship. The ones I attempted always tried to get me to be physical with them anyways. It took a lot of time researching the different types of attraction for me to understand who I truly am, and I still dont really discose it unless I am totally comfortable with somebody. Or just dont care how they feel about it.

A lesbian who loves to hear peoples’ life stories. content warning – this coming out story contains discussion and/or mention of self-harming behaviour and suicide

Howdy! My name is Megan. My first “not straight” feelings were around age 9. I didn’t know what I was, all I knew was that I held my female best friend’s hand, and my stomach did somersaults. At age 10, I started going to a conservative baptist church, and over the next 14 years, I would battle with homophobia to the point of almost ending my life. My best friend, we’ll call her T, began to treat me as her significant other. We’d cuddle and kiss and hold hands, but it was just practicing for our future husbands (fun fact, I wasn’t practicing). T would kiss me, then ghost me for a bit and tell me what we did was wrong and against God. This happened for about 6 years, and then she started dating my brother (my brother did not know what was going on). As soon as they started dating, I lost myself. I became angry at everything and everyone. At this point, I was on my 3rd round of biblical counseling; I was being told I wasn’t thankful for my role as a woman, I was giving in to a life consuming sin, and that if I just prayed hard enough, that I would find a husband and these feelings would go away. I tortured myself to try to fit the mold I thought I needed to… In June of 2018, I was in Florida with my family. In key west, there was a pride parade, but I didn’t ask to go as to not make my family uncomfortable. We ended up accidentally running into the parade. I got off of my motorcycle and stood in the crowd, and they began throwing beads in my direction, but a big familiar hand caught them, and I looked to find my father standing next to me. Over the next few months, I began a journey of feeing comfortable enough to come out to my family, and then the world. I lost people in my life, and my family made sacrifices as well to support me. My brother and I left the church, and my parents were kicked out because they weren’t willing to disown me. I live now as a happy lesbian in eastern Washington State, and I wouldn’t change anything. My experiences made me a far more compassionate person, and I treasure that more than I know.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

I am gay.

I suppose you could also use the term lesbian to define me but I’ve never really felt comfortable with it due to the pornographic connotations. I am 17 and I realised when I was 13/14. I can’t remember the exact age or date which may be a surprise to some people because it is often viewed as a life changing event. For me, it wasn’t. It was a realisation, an extra part of myself which I hadn’t yet realised but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Quite a few people say that they knew from a young age but didn’t think it was something they should embrace but I honestly had no idea. I’d never met a gay person, nobody had ever mentioned gay people, or just anyone who wasn’t straight, to me or in my presence. I had no idea this was even a thing. It wasn’t like my parents were trying to hide it from me, it had just never been brought up. It wasn’t until I accidentally stumbled across some coming out videos on you tube that I realised. I’d felt the same way that they were describing but I’d just thought that was how everyone felt. I’d had many “boyfriends” when I was younger, I say “boyfriends” because none of them were ever real relationships after all I was only between the ages of 10 and 13. But that was just what you did, that was what everyone my age was doing so that’s what I was doing too, sure I’d found them attractive but I’d never been attracted TO any of them which was the big difference.

So after stumbling across these videos I began searching for them, absorbing everything that was being said, in particular I identified with Rose Ellen Dix’s video (if you want some good queer representation, her and her wife Rosie are absolutely adorable and they’re very funny). I discovered that I was gay and that was it. I didn’t see any issues with my identity because as I had not known about the LGBTQ+ community I had also not known if the struggles I could face, I was blissfully ignorant. I began telling my friends through sending them Ally Hill’s song for coming out with because honestly what a bop. I broke up with my boyfriend at the time, he seemed to take it very well and decided that I should tell my mum. I told her that I’d broken up with my boyfriend but that I wasn’t ready to her why yet. When I was, I wrote it on a chalkboard in my room and asked her to read it, and once she had she came and found me. Her first sentence was to ask if I was joking, when I said no she said I must be confused because I had realised I didn’t like my boyfriend and that I needed to rub it off of the chalkboard before my dad saw. She wanted to know if I’d told any of my friends and upon replying that had, she told me that I should tell them that I’m not gay, I was just confused about my feelings. Now I know this isn’t the worst thing to have said to you by a parent when you’ve just tried to come out to them, but I was 13 I didn’t know that this was an outcome that could’ve happened, I thought they wouldn’t care and now I was scared.

Now I faced the struggle that so many if us face. I began closing in on myself for a while, I was suddenly faced with a reality where everything wasn’t okay and there must be something wrong with me. It took a while before I decided that there was nothing wrong with me and I told my friends once more that I was gay, maybe this was just something I had to hide from my family, that was okay, I could do that. I made an Instagram account where I could follow other gay people and talk about tv programmes with gay characters etc without it being associated with my own account because being gay was now something to fear rather than be unbothered about.

At some point, I don’t know exactly when, my dad saw my phone whilst I was on it, he told my mum but didn’t say anything to me about it. A good few months after I’d tried to come out to my mum (probably closer to a year really) she’d been out drinking and I’d stayed up to say goodnight to her when she came home. She confronted me about what my dad had seen and wouldn’t let me leave until I’d told her that I was gay. As you can imagine, I was crying I was only 14 at this point and my main objective had been not slipping up in front off my parents so that they would find out, she kept telling me that it was okay but I honestly wanted the world to swallow me right then and there and this will probably always remain one of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced. Both of these instances paint my mum in a very bad light but she’s actually a really lovely person, obviously we have our disagreements over things and certain topics but most people do. I used to hate the way she acted during both these instances but know I realise that she was just as inexperienced as I was, she was scared of what people would say and how they would act towards me, of how she was now supposed to act was she to be different? Or the same? I’ve forgiven her for these things, nobody is perfect and she is constantly working to be better. She told my dad what had happened and I think they had an argument over the way she’d acted. My dad has never had an issue with my sexuality and we seem to be closer now than we ever were.

As far as I know, all of my family members know. I say this because my mum told most of them, this may also seem like a bad thing to do to some people, like she had taken away my right to be able to do it myself but honestly, I prefer it this was. This whole experience gave me a fear of coming out to family members so I’m glad I never had to do it. I think I will always have some uncomfortable feelings talking to family members about being gay but it has gotten better as time as gone on so hopefully that means it will go away as I get older. My auntie found out last year after my mum had told her, she made a big fuss about how proud she was of me and I know that’s what some people want and need but it makes me feel so uncomfortable, probably due to the trauma created by my coming out but also because I’ve never felt like it was something that I needed to be brave about, something I needed to be proud of (not that I’m not proud of being gay) but it’s just a part of who I am and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of that being something I need to be brave and proud about if you can understand what I’m trying to say.

A light-hearted coming out was when I told my brother, during the uncomfortable atmosphere that followed my 2nd coming out disaster it went as follows:
Him: “why are you being weird at the minute?”
Me: “I’m not being weird, you’re weird”
Him: “I know you’re gay you know”
Me: *internal freaking out* “who told you?”
Him: “oh I was joking but that’s cool”
After I’d finished freaking out, I really appreciated the easiness of the whole situation.

So to conclude what is a very long story (if you’ve made it this far, thank you for being interested in my life, I’ve nearly finished I promise) I’ve only actually come out about 9 times in my life, the rest is thanks to other people spreading it, including the boyfriend mentioned previously who told people that was the reason I’d broken up with him and lead to the whole school finding out, (it’s okay though, I’ve forgiven him too because we were young and he didn’t know any better). I know there are going to be so many small comings out in my life that I will easily lose track of the number of people that I’ve told and I will probably face some hard times from people who aren’t accepting of who I am, but I say bring it on because I’m happy with who I am and I’m ready to face anything that comes my way.

On a side note, I hope everyone is staying safe during this pandemic and that you’re all healthy and hopefully not facing any loss.

Feel free to exhale homosexuality

For me, understanding my sexuality has meant going through several mental chaos. Before understanding my sexual identity, I had to first understand my sexuality. In my adolescence, while everyone was talking about girls, boys, sex or kissing, I only thought about playing sports and going to the movies. I was not attracted to anyone, neither boys nor girls. And that made me feel like a freak, because everyone was already having a partner or, at least, a taste for someone, except me. I went out with a couple of guys and those have been (until now, 10 years later) the most boring dates of my life.
Also, before discovering my homosexuality I discovered sexual pleasure through masturbation. The first times I felt guilty about doing it because everybody knows that men masturbate, but what a horror if a girl does it. And so, for a couple more years, I was still not attracted to anyone, and did not need to have anyone.
It wasn’t until I entered college that I met the love of my life. This girl stirred up each and every one of my hormones that, until that moment, seemed dead. Unfortunately, it was an unrequited love, because she was suffering for a boy who did not pay as much attention to her as I was suffering for her.
The first person I told about my possible homosexuality was my best friend. His words of comfort (because yes, for him that confession was comforting) were “Relax, you’re not gay, you’re just confused. Let me tell you, there is nothing more confusing than when you are told you are confused. His consolation created a (other) mental chaos for me: how do I know if what I’m feeling is real or if I’m making it up? How do I know if I’m one hundred percent sure of something or if I’m confused and haven’t noticed? Furthermore, what does it mean that I am confused?
With those doubts in my head I entered my first relationship. The first month was a mental chaos because it was my first time (in every way), and it was with a girl. Because of the macho and conservative country I live in (Peru), being gay was seen as something negative. (Level: the same police officers assaulted both gays and lesbians) So, for someone like me, who has always tried to do the right thing and be a better person in every way, the idea of being gay made me ashamed. I mean, I knew it wasn’t a bad thing per se, but I was embarrassed that I wasn’t “normal. I was embarrassed to be something that was seen in a bad light. That’s why I didn’t tell my parents about it. However, as the days went by the mental chaos became more acute, so I thought it would be best to talk about it, maybe I could lean on them to understand me…. The reaction they had was shocking. You definitely don’t really know your family until you come out of the closet. From my mother I expected some rejection for being Catholic, but there was only silence. Not a single word for several days. Until she came over one night and told me to be careful because I could get AIDS. Yes, AIDS. It was the middle of the 21st century and I still believed that you get AIDS just by coming out of the closet.
On the other hand, my father is half relaxed, to the point of letting my brother smoke marijuana in the house. But it seems that drugs are not as serious as homosexuality. As soon as I finished telling him that I thought he was gay, my father started crying. There is nothing more ridiculous than seeing a big, loud person cry because his daughter is a lesbian. He started crying because it turns out that homosexuality is a disease. It turns out that homosexuality is a product of some childhood trauma. It turns out that homosexuality is an impediment to marrying and giving birth to grandchildren. And, in between cries, she began to apologize for whatever she did to make me believe it was “it”.
So far, when I think about that scene, I am aware that my departure was not tragic, it was just disappointing. At that moment I realized that I was alone in all that mental chaos. And I accepted it. You’re not always going to have someone to lean on, so I decided to raise myself to be my own source of support. But, of course, going through that chaos alone is not easy. It took me several more years before I could stop feeling ashamed of myself, and feel truly comfortable in my own skin. And it is only now, at 28, that I feel free to breathe out my homosexuality.
Now, because I’m half antisocial, my story hasn’t inspired anyone (because I don’t talk to anyone), but, if anyone keeps reading this far, what I can tell you is that, it’s not about forcing someone to accept you, it’s about how, as long as you love yourself, little by little things and people around you are going to shape up to you. And, one more thing, Respect. Even if someone lowers himself to the level of disrespect or seeks to harm you, as long as you hold your head up high, little by little you will be the one who wins.
Thank you very much for reading this will. Much love.
Ariana.

Gay (lesbian)

By pure chance I came across some videos on YouTube that brought me to Dominique’s profile and read this incredible post. Everything I have read has inspired me, I have felt identified and has made me wonder about so many things in my life.

I am 28 years old and since I was 12 or 14 years old I was attracted to women, men only saw them as friends, despite feeling all this I only dated men.

At the age of 22 I decided to stop and accept myself, accept that it was impossible for me to have sex with men and I did not see myself with any of them. I sat down with my best friends and told everything I had hidden until that day, it should be noted that my best friends are gay and I was still afraid. My friends understood.

Today with 28 years, I still feel that I am afraid to talk about it with other people, even my family does not know it, this has brought me problems of having a relationship as I would really like to have it. I am patient with myself and with the stages of my life.

This post has made me think and reevaluate my values, my passions, my whole life, rethink what I want and it has let me know that I have neglected a part of me that feels imprisoned. I want to be happy.

I’m still human- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR, BULLYING, AND SUICIDE

I knew I was different when I was about 6 years old. I never liked girly things I would play football with the boys and chase the girls playing kiss chase. I realised I was attracted to women when I was in high school. I told my best friend that I was gay when I was 15. It didnt go so well soon the whole school knew. I was bullied really badly i had my hair set on fire, people tipped cans af coke over my head, i got beat up on the way home every day. I had to cut out chewing gum from my hair every day. It was a nightmare I fell into a deep depression and started self harming. When I was 16 I tried to kill myself I couldn’t take it anymore, I was being tortured for being myself. I hid my sexuality and got a boyfriend. He was also gay and didnt want the same abuse I was getting so we pretended to date. We would hold hands and hang out together. Things got a little easier after that. When I was 19 I started going to the gay village in manchester I would dance in the clubs hook up with women but would give them a fake names because I was so scared everyone would find out I was gay. When I was 21 I got very drunk and shouted at my mum that I was gay while trying to climb the stairs. My mum just smiled and said she had always known and that I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am. I wished I’d have told her when I was at school instead of lying about why I was being bullied. I am now 39 years old I’m married to the most beautiful woman on the planet. We have been together for 15 years and every day I find something new to love about her. I wish I hadn’t experienced the abuse I suffered as it has had negative effects on me like I dont like people coming up behind me or standing to close to me. I still suffer with bouts of depression and low self esteem but I wouldn’t be the person I am today if i hadn’t gone through that. I’m still human after all. Xxx

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.