Community Rainbow Waves

Queer and still working on the proud (but getting there)

I knew I was queer when I was 20. I fell pretty hard for this girl in a summer program I was in while in undergrad but I didn’t let myself admit it for a long time. I came out to myself at 23. For me when I finally let myself admit that I was queer there was this moment where I looked back at my previous relationships and realized all those girls I wanted to be “super best friends” with were crushes. I could admit why I was always seeking out TV shows and movies and anything I could get my hands on that had queer representation in it. A few weeks later I called my friends and came out to them. I told them I was bi but as I’ve come to understand myself more I feel like queer or gay fits better. My friends have been supportive and wonderful. I haven’t been able to come out to my parents yet, but will at some point. They are fairly conservative and right now they are still responsible for much of my financial stability while I’m in graduate school. I’m 26 now and gender stuff has been coming up for me recently. I don’t really know what it is or how I identify gender wise all the time but I’m okay with that. I don’t need to nail it down or put a label on it. I still deal with a lot of shame and internalized homophobia that I don’t always know how to process but I’m working on being proud of who I am. It’s a lot of work and will probably be something I will always have to work on. In the meantime I’m becoming more comfortable with my gender expression and have created a space I can be myself with friends.

Queer/Gay/femme

I always knew I liked girls. I think I was as young as six. But I also liked being a girl, and being girly. I never quite felt the same about boys, but this way of feeling was totally different from those around me, so I guess I thought I was just wrong. Maybe I just admired girls? Maybe that’s just being a feminist? Girl power? Haha. I was a 90s kids so Spice Girls, and Britney and Christina Aguilera were totally ok to fangal over but I felt I liked them a bit more than others. The slow realisation that I was a feminine lesbian took several years not because I was confused about me identifying as that, but cause I didn’t feel there was a place in the world for me, so again, I must be wrong. The word lesbian sounded harsh and pornographic I didn’t like it, the stereotype put me off and seemed quite negative and exclusive, when I attempted to step in to the community I wasn’t welcomed in for fear I was too girly to be gay I MUST be straight or just curious. I didn’t fit anywhere. I felt alone. I think I’ve only started to accept who I am in the last few years and now I’m nearly 30. Scary and sad it’s taken so long. But after 25 I guess the youthful angst washes away and you begin to feel comfortable in your own skin, whatever that may be. You accept that you’re not going anywhere so you may as well settle in for the long run. At the same time, life is short, so cut the crap and just get on with it! Queer representation in culture and media is also just starting to blossom. It’s now kinda cool to be gay, which seems a little superficial but at least a little room as been made for me to exist as MY authentic self. I AM A WOMAN WHO LIKES BEING A WOMAN AND LOVES WOMEN! Haha. I still don’t like the term lesbian, but at least now I love being me 🙂

The age of love is short, there is no limit to oblivion… But this is the value of love.

Since childhood. But the awareness and acceptance of self came at a more conscious age. Now I am happy about it. I have been living with my beloved person for several years now and the most wonderful thing for her is that I was a discovery of her sexuality and an opportunity to realize that the world is not only black and white. I live in Russia, the country that patience and understanding of such I am not very different, here still slips the foundations of the past, and there is probably a disadvantage in this, but there are a lot of people like me who are gradually me attitude towards us)

Human

I never thought about liking girls as more than friends until I saw it represented on TV a few years back (my first ship was calzona) and I thought “oH so that’s why I think SO MUCH about girls and what it would be like to hold their hands and kiss them” (I know, should’ve seen it coming).
A few months later I got enough courage to come out as a lesbian to my best friend at the time who was SO supportive. I slowly started coming out to my step-brother and my dad, both of whom took it well and were so supportive. I wrote my mom a letter, and though she seemed okay with it, she later told me not to tell anyone and offered to get me a therapist if I wanted to talk about it. To this day, four years later, we still haven’t talked about it again. Since then, we have not had such a good relationship, mostly because I was already so afraid of disappointing her and not being the daughter she wanted, which I am not, as I have been told by her and, as much as it hurts, I still try to have a good relationship with her, because she is my mother.

I barely had to “come out” after that, it was mostly people already noticing I was into girls or me just casually talking about how cute a girl was, and, luckily, I have never had any bad reaction, except for one of my “friends” who was really weirded out and frequently made me feel like the “odd one out”.
In the past year I have had to “come out” again though, since I no longer identify as a lesbian, I do not feel comfortable with any label right now and that’s okay. I do not need a label.

“I am enough”, Monica

I think I always knew but I denied the ever obvious signs or evidence or feelings that I had towards the same sex. By the time I did come out I had fooled the world all the while punishing and with-holding truth from myself. I came from a Republic and Catholic family and also when to Catholic School my entire life. Being told that what I was feeling was a sin and that I would most likely go to hell I quickly realized that I was worth nothing just because of those facts. As I grew I started to open my eyes to the outside world. To see the things I was always “forbidden” to see. To see beauty in something rather than the sin. I live in Seattle and when I was 21 I moved to So. Cal for a few years and it was then that I had my first kiss with a woman. It was like the darkness in me disappeared and the light that I always pushed down took its place. After a few years of So. Cal, I moved back home and had to face the truth and tell my family. I was 24 years old when I told my family and the hurt that was said, the worries, the pains, the agony, and torture came bubbling back up only to have be reinforced with a family member telling me “I wish you would’ve been a miscarriage.” Those words burned into absorbed my heart and mind for months.
I remember walking down the street one day and it hit me like a ton of bricks and for the first time in my life I asked myself “how can something like loving someone be wrong?” I then drove to my parents house and said “if you can’t accept me then you aren’t deserving enough to be apart of my life because I am a good person who desires the world to be its true authentic self in love.” Walked out didn’t speak to my family for a while after that.

I am lucky enough that my family did come around. I married my incredible wife when it first became legal in Washington State on December 8, 2012 and have never looked back. My family loves my wife as they do our two beautiful, strong, and determined daughters. I am so grateful for the road that has taken me to where I am though incredible painful, I am not sure I would be me if I hadn’t.

I so believe in this community because it is based on love. Something that should be seen, heard, and felt. I am so grateful and proud that I get to live my truth everyday. That I get to be the best of me because I now know that “I am enough.”

Lesbian

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.

I came out when I was 14 years of age, 13 years ago, most of my family were accepting, though a few were not. Some still not to this day, but have been a little more accepting through the years. Shockingly for me the older generation in the family were more supportive than the younger, excluding my dad. My dad was not accepting at first, it come to the point where I didnt have any contact with my dad for over two years.. due to the fact that when I was in my late teens he actually tried to pay me to be with a boy! As you could tell that was a big no. Thankfully my dad is 100% supportive of me now and we have a great relationship. Many people ask me how I could forgive him? My reply.. whats the point in holding on to something bad, when hes sorry and I’ve had many more happy memories shared with him. I have had many struggles in life many battles I have fought, the most hardest was being told I was confused because I was sexually assaulted from the age of 12 to 14, “your not gay, your just traumatised”, i always new from a young age, the first time I kissed a girl, 9 years of age (practising) like kids did. My happest memory of coming out was actually only 2 years ago, to my great grandfather, I was always told not to say anything as he was old and wouldn’t understand, i was very close with my grampa so, when he was 93 I came out to him, he did not judge me what so ever he just told me about the time he met my great grandmother, and told me it doesn’t matter who you love, it doesn’t matter how much you fight, if you love you them don’t ever let them go . That conversation was one of the last conversations I had with him. Its a conversation that I hold dear to me and one people should listen to.

Lesbian

Oh man. It’s been quite a journey. I guess it started around 5th grade or so. I recognized it and actually began to come out to myself, but in true ADHD fashion, managed to push it to the back of my mind and forgot about it for several years. My sexuality popped up later in middle school when relationships began to bloom and I failed to understand my friends’ obsession with boys. Instead I was thinking about them. I kept repressing it’s and was terribly unhappy up until last year, when I entered my first real relationship. She and I met through school and did not even know the other’s name after 7 months of sitting right next to each other. Finally, she bucked up and asked me out. Then I realized I wanted my parents to know her as my girlfriend. So I came out to them via text while across the street from them. They took it very well and it was immediately seen as just another part of me. I wouldn’t have it any other way. By coming out I was able to understand that I don’t want to hide my love for this amazing woman from anyone.

Bisexual

I accepted within myself that I was apart of the LGBT+ community in late middle school. I’ve always known I was attracted to the same gender, but when I was younger I expressed it as an appreciation for women before I was able to understand how I really felt about both men and women. I denied it for years as there are a few VERY vivid memories I have of people assuming I was lesbian before I even knew what I was. I guess these traumatizing moments can really hinder a person’s ability to be open up about themselves, but I finally met a girl in my junior year of high school that didn’t make me want to hide anymore, and she happened to be the first person I ever came out to and the first girl I dated. I became comfortable with myself, with my sexuality, and with living my honest truth from there on. Having other LGBT friends has made me feel accepted and sharing my inner thoughts have reaffirmed a feeling of validity. I don’t feel the need to share a coming out story in mass viewing on social media, but I know I can freely express myself to new people and not feel judged. I struggled with family acceptance for a short while as my older brother is completely gay and my parents always knew and easily accepted him when he came out, but they weren’t expecting their second child, their daughter, to be LGBT as well and so when it was my time, I did not receive the same enthusiasm. It took about half a year for my parents to settle into this reality of mine, but in the end they love their children no matter who my brother or I love. Coming out to friends was easier, most of them weren’t surprised, but they were very supporting and I am always thankful for the love I continue to receive from those even after sharing the part of myself that I’m always most anxious about. Love is love.

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.

FtM Trans Guy

When I was 5 I started realising I didn’t really fit in with the girls who I was forced into groups with. I was more interested in playing football than dancing and I had a significant amount more friends who were boys than friends who were girls. The boys saw me as one of them and if someone said that I couldn’t do anything because I’m “a girl” they would defend me and say that I’m different. They were right, I am different.

I’m different but my differences make me unique. My gender dysphoria went unnoticed to me until I was 10, around the same time I started puberty. I started hating the body I was in and wished I could be more like the boys who I played football with. My gender dysphoria was manageable until I was 15.

As soon as I turned 15 I had reached my breaking point. I began researching what this awful feeling of hatred I had towards my body was and almost every article I read and every video I watched told me it was the same thing: gender dysphoria. After that I did more research and discovered what it means to be transgender. I came to the conclusion that I’m trans and that I should probably create a list of names for myself to try out.

By January 2017 I decided to tell my friends about my identity and my new name. At that point, I was identifying as non-binary. One friend knew about what it means to be non-binary so was incredibly supportive and the rest of my friends just wanted what was best for me. They used my new name and my preferred pronouns and it was going really well until a few months later when I realised that I’m actually FtM (female to male) transgender.

After I told people I was changing my preferred name again and was using new pronouns some people stopped talking to me which made me feel even more hatred towards myself. I soon discovered that coming out as trans in a Catholic school was a terrible idea (well for me at least). Someone who had stopped talking to me because of my new identity told one of my bullies about my identity and it caused his bullying to escalate. I soon began regretting coming out.

One day during our biology lesson we were talking about reproduction and my bully asked how same sex couples reproduce. I answered him in a clear and concise way that same sex couples can use IVF or surrogacy in order to reproduce. At this point he turned around and said “oh, is that how you trans freaks do it to?” before pushing a desk towards me causing me to be trapped between two desks. My teacher ran over to help and asked him to leave the classroom immediately. I was ushered off with some of my friends to go sit in an empty art classroom whilst we were waiting for the school nurse to come and check me over. Luckily I was only bruised and nothing worse had happened. He was suspended for two weeks for bullying and inappropriate conduct (apparently it would have been much longer if I’d have actually admitted to being trans but at that point I was too scared to come out to teachers).

Flash forward to now (September 2020) and I’m about to start my second year of university. I still haven’t come out to my parents but I’m getting there. My online friends help a lot with reassuring me that I’ve always got a chosen family and that I look masculine enough. I’m now at ease with my labels of transgender and pansexual (an identity discovery I made only a few months ago).