Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

I realised kind of early I guess, lucky I know. I realised about a year and a half ago when I was 15. When I realised I sort of started to see that just because I had realised it then, it didn’t mean I had changed, it was always inside of me I just didn’t understand it. I told a few friends and one brother, but not everyone, not yet. I used to get called tranny, because I wasn’t a ‘girly girl’, I liked cricket, never wore dresses or make up. I don’t want to be a guy, but I fear that even though I know that, admitting I like girls would just be another reason for people to assume I’m more like a guy. For a while it confused me, but I know now that liking girls doesn’t make me less of a girl, so I’m hoping to tell the rest of my family soon and be out, and I know what I feared may still happen, but I realise now that as long as I accept it about myself, it doesn’t matter what they think of it.

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

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

Bi

Last year when I watched Wynonna and ever since then I have watched girls and wanted them as muck as I wanted boys but I not out yet as I am still in school and scared of what people think as my friend is out and gets a lot of hate and I am scared

Jennifer T

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

I’m 26 years old and came out to a few select close friends when I was 17 (as Bi), then Pan, then Lesbian finally on 10Sept2015. I joined the Air Force (as a medic) at 18, and that was lift off for my Queerness and coming to terms with my authenticity and self love. When I was 8 my brother committed suicide (he was 16). It has been a struggle to come to terms with his loss over the years. I struggled with my own mental health over time, because of that trauma. Having gone through such a big loss/traumatic event at a young age has given an unfortunate advantage over the years. I’ve learned how to get through the stages of grief over the years in different and many ways. With positive and negative coping mechanisms. In doing so I have been very fortunate to notice the signs and vibes of depression and suicidal ideations within people, and I tell them my story. I’ve noticed that when I tell my story people tend to confide their own stories to me. In turn I have helped many people. Nothing feels better than a person telling me that I changed/saved their life by just listening and being there. Don’t get me wrong it has occasionally taken a small toll on my own psychie, but it also has grown it. Helping others has given me a level of self understanding and love for myself and for other humans. My mental armor has grown exponentially. I can only hope that strangers read this and take these words of wisdom from me… I promise it gets better. It will sometimes get worse before it gets better. There is always a way out. Be the person that your younger self needed. Surround yourself with people that listen and understand. Love is everywhere. Suicide is NOT the answer. It is never too late to get help. YOU ARE LOVED. I LOVE YOU! I am here if you EVER need a stranger to just talk to.

I’m bisexual

I am bisexual but when I came out of the closet with my parents they didn’t accept it so I had to tell them to “change” but luckily I have people who love me and who support me no matter who I am and encourage me to never stop being who I am.

Under The Same Sky

Salaam from your kazah nomadic wanderer, who finally has found her place in Turkey.

Please do not blame me for my pretentious greeting, it is only a slight whiff of those feelings and sensations that live in my heart (in positive tone, of course 🙂

The overemotional part of me, having overcome the thorny path of finding myself, looking back, can say with a big smile on my lips that it was a long way back and really hard.

There is no greater happiness than being yourself. To be able to breathe freely and not be afraid to confess your feelings to someone who excites your soul so much that your heart skips a beat every time you catch a familiar face on the rearview mirror of your car.

You can deceive everyone around you for an endless time, and sometimes play this role so convincingly that you begin to believe it yourself.

But even so, no one has the right to judge you. Because no one else knows what you went through or are still going through. Only you decide how to live: rise up and fly high in the sky freely, like a bird, or sit in a dusty closet, where it is dark and damp. This is your choice. There are different circumstances and everyone has their own reasons.

I am 33 years old, I am from Kazakhstan and I am a lesbian.

I have always known about my orientation since kindergarten. But even when I grew up and went to elementary and then high school, even after I entered the adolescent phase, I never spoke openly about myself. Never to anyone. At University, there was a moment when I told my friend about my orientation and she stopped communicating with me. Then I decided to just not stand out from the crowd and be like everyone else. Just like the others.

We live among people who are so used to putting labels on everyone and everything that if someone doesn’t live up to their expectations or does not meet their ideas of “normality”, they immediately turn into outcasts.

We live in an environment where society sets the rules and dictates what is “normal” and what is”abnormal”.

We live in a World where money and status have become more important than the mental health. Where real life and colors of nature are erased in the glossy pages of social network. Where the individuality and uniqueness of individuals are distorted under the forced images of imaginary saints.

This is how we live. I lived in such an environment, socialized with such people and tried so hard to match their scale of normality that I began to lose myself. After a while, I didn’t know where I really was, and I couldn’t tell my real self from the image I had created for the public.

Yes, I had a cool job with a high salary. Yes, I had “friends” with whom I spent time, had fun and talked about abstruse topics. Yes, guys were interested in me, asked me out on dates and even confessed their love. Hoy, but I wasn’t interested. So yeah, I really thought I was asexual 🙂 And I didn’t have the most important thing – happiness.

I was just a pale reflection of other people’s emotions and feelings, and deep down I was always alone. Loneliness and I became best friends. During the day I put on my loneliness like a shirt, and during the long cold nights it wrapped me like a plaid. When my circle was celebrating holidays and having fun to the fullest, there were none of those faces who knew the real me. Nobody. The saddest thing is to feel completely alone when you are surrounded by people. This is the price of your obedience.

I was unhappy. How can you be happy if the light of your soul is muted, and there are no colors in the palette that you would like to paint the canvas of your life with?

Until I met Her. An unexpected meeting on a sunny autumn day that turned my whole world upside down. Our friends thought we were just colleagues. Our families thought we were just friends. I don’t know what I was to Her, but to me, She is my favorite topic of conversation with the Heavens for all eternity. No, I am not religious. I just believe in miracles, in the rainbow unicorn and in Sailor Moon 🙂

For the first time, I felt what it was like to be truly happy. And then I didn’t want to and couldn’t live the way I had before I met Her.

I found wings to soar above the images of public opinion about “normality.” I got my voice back to say: “Hey, I’ve had enough of this shit! (pardon my French). Now, I will be myself”. I found the will to change my life and live in full colors. I accepted myself and found freedom. Yup, the number of acquaintances and friends has decreased. But the PLUS is that the atmosphere has become friendly.

Maybe your feelings will be one-sided or vice versa, you will be among the lucky ones who reciprocated (woohoo, congratulations dude!). Or maybe you haven’t met your soulmate yet and you’re not in a relationship right now. It is all right, sooner or later you will catch your wave 🙂

After all, to be able to openly talk about your feelings, about yourself and your dream means to have equal rights.

Equal rights to be yourself, to love and not to be afraid that you will come under the pressure of public hatred for WHO YOU ARE.

Someone will understand you and support you, someone will turn away and stop communicating with you. It is OK, everything will be fine. You are not alone! Here WE are, your rainbow soulmates 🙂

I am not asking for special treatment. I am just asking for equal treatment. To live. To be who I am. To love..

Sometimes words just aren’t enough to describe all your love. Sometimes a smile just isn’t enough to express that love. Hiding my feelings in a veil of lies, I don’t understand what is real and what is fiction. I choose to live under the same sky and enjoy a sunny day, speak openly, smile in front of everyone and hug when it snows or walk next to my loved one in the rain.. Always in this way.

When you are really happy, your soul shines so brightly that your heart becomes so warm. It is like you can embrace the whole World!

Na’vi from the planet Pandora greet each other with “I See You”, which means “I see the real you, not what you seem” (thank you, James Cameron). I see into you. And I understand you. Guys, I SEE YOU! Let’s be kind to each other. Let’s make a better World for you, for me, for ALL of US!

One meeting can change your life. One voice can change the World. One good thing can change Everything.

Be yourself. Be free. Be happy.

Much love and “may the Force be with you”!

#underthesamesky

Bisexual/ Queer

I grew up in a small farm town in Indiana. Open mindedness was not a thing where I was from. Being raised by older parents and growing up in an closed mindset community, I was raised to believe that those who choose same sex relationships were sinful and “wrong in the head”. I always sensed I was different from about 14 on. But it wasn’t until I was 16 walking the halls of High School thinking I can’t be gay dad will hate me. So….. I suppressed the queer side of me that wanted to be with girls, dated some boys, and tried really hard to be “normal”. Several years of chronic depression and anxiety later I finally turned 21, lived on college campus, and had a mad crush on a girl in my class. Fate, God, the Universe or whatever force you believe in, this girl was also bisexual. And although a relationship never happened, I owe it to her and one drunken night for my official coming out story. I chose to live honestly and came out to my friends and family soon after. Things did not go well at first, but we did a lot of growing, and things did get better. Fast forward a few years and I am now happily married 2 years to my beautiful wife. All of my friends were there and my parents walked me down the aisle. I am so very fortunate to have such a positive outcome. We now live in the same small town I grew up in where we strive to live positive, out, queer lives, and strive to make the world a more loving place. #KeepItReal

Bex

I am 32 years old and have been wanting to come out for a very long time but I still have yet to find the courage to do so. I live in a very small country (Malta) where everybody knows everyone and this makes it even harder for me because I know that not everyone is accepting. Looking back, I have been more drawn to girls from a very young age. My first memory is when I was about 8 years old and I had my first crush. It was all so very confusing for me because I was always taught that a woman should be with a man and vice versa. As I grew older I started learning more about what I was feeling but I could never share it with anyone. This made and still makes me feel very much alone. It also brings a lot of guilt with it because I am lying to everyone about who I really am.

Seeing what Dominique did on her birthday brought out so many emotions. Even though she is younger than me, she is such an inspiration and I wish I could have an ounce of the courage that she does.

I will keep trying to find the courage. I just wanted to share my story and show others that they are not alone if, like me, still have not managed to find their voice.

I’m am a bisexual cis woman 🙂

I knew when I was like 10 and I first came out to some friends when I was 14, I’m now 15 and waiting to tell my parents.