Community Rainbow Waves

I live life my way

Hello, my name is Maria G. I come from a Catholic home. I am the second of three sisters and one brother (the youngest). I had a frustrating adolescence when I wanted to open the closet door. Although my family was not homophobic, I was afraid to face it. Since I was 9 years old I focused on sports (archery and athletics) it helped me a lot, it was my escape, my work, my everything, it kept me busy, traveling, meeting people, socializing but I never dared to open up to anyone. The first person I told was my sister Carolina the 3rd she was 18 years old and I 26 Wow! However I am one of those who thinks that our life, we should manage it ourselves, not because I won’t tell people it wasn’t “free”. Before coming clean with me I tried to have boyfriends, but not to pretend anything with my family, but because I had the need to be loved, to have someone give me love, affection, since in my home it was a constant and resounding fight. I had 3 boyfriends between 15 and 19 years old that didn’t last 3 months and I hid from them because I didn’t really feel anything, but it was nothing hahaha…
At 23 years old I came out of the closet when I started playing handball. It turns out that there were two sides there, the Heteroes and the Gays. I was very innocent, I only realized which side I was on after I came out of the closet. I started to get to know my teammates, I adapted easily to the team, although I am introverted and I usually integrate well with people. Well on the 2nd side, the Gays were wondering if I was or wasn’t hahaha… one of them started to seduce me this little flower showed its colorful petals… at first it was like an internal struggle to accept me. The worst thing that happened to me during this time, was once I took this “friend” home, my father was traveling with my brothers, only my mother was home, she had a foot in a cast from a fall. It was already late, I assumed that my mother was asleep, the door to my room was between open because my parents did not like us to close the doors of the rooms; my “friend” and I began to kiss, suddenly I heard a noise outside, we separated immediately, I got up, checked and saw my mother “asleep”. I went to bed, nothing else happened, everyone slept, but my head was turning, the next morning my suspicions were confirmed, my mom was acting strange, she avoided me, I did the same and I went with “my friend” to the university. In the afternoon my mother called me and told me that if I could go home early she needed to talk to me. I got home at 5pm and there she was waiting for me to talk… wow! My heart was pounding into a hole in my chest, it was pounding that I thought it was going to come out. We sat down, she told me what she saw and asked me the question, not before telling me that she was going to accept whatever decision I made, that I was her daughter and she loved me above all things, my heart was beating stronger and stronger, there was a silence, she was waiting for my answer, everything was going through my head, I felt nauseous, Dizzy, it was a horrible moment I thought hours had passed, but not a minute had passed, and the moment my mouth was going to pronounce a YES I am Gay, I changed my answer and said NO, I was confused, my mother looked at me, knelt down in front of me, grabbed me by the legs and said these words: Thank you God, because I thought I had lost my daughter. Wow! At that moment I was in shock. Even though she told me she loved me above all else, the fact that I had confirmed to her that I was gay was going to destroy her inside, and my father had already done too much damage for me to sink her any further. The days went by, although I continued with my friends, I didn’t bring anyone else into the house, I stayed out of the house. These words marked me forever, even today. After telling my sister Carola, I told my father years later, it didn’t cost me anything to tell him, my father was more open with me than my mother was. After that I have not told anyone else. I have always been an independent person, I have made my life to my liking, in my own way, although my family has been a great support, I have always made my own decisions about each of the steps I take, I have never consulted anyone about anything, I only comment when I have made the decision, I do not like that they interfere or manipulate what I want, so that is why I decided to make my life without caring what they think or say. When I was 25 I moved from the West to the East of the country, I left because a handball team signed me to play with them. I had a freedom that I had never felt before, I lived alone, already graduated from Lcda in Education, without rules, without tense looks, new faces, another culture, less reserved, it was a 100% change, that was coming out of the closet. I began to experiment, imagine it when I was 26 years old. At the age of 27 I met a girl 7 years younger than me, through sport her name is Rosme and was my first serious relationship, my first partner as such! We lasted 4 years, after a year of relationship we got married, it was a ceremony on the beach, but it was because of Santeria, native beliefs of the region. After a year and a few months she got pregnant, not from me in that we agree hahaha… it was a strong situationeee the day I found out it was from comics. She started with pain in her belly and we went early to the doctor, the doctor attended to her and I stayed in the office but withdrew, so that the doctor did not see my face when she gave me the news; the doctor made the echo and asked me: what are you of her? Immediately I answer: her cousin, not to hide it but so that she could not see my face. The doctor said: She is only pregnant, she is 3 months old… my jaw hit the floor and Rosme covered her face with her hand, I took a deep breath, I controlled myself, I thanked the doctor for her attention and I left the office with a cloudy mind. Rosme came out behind me, not knowing what to say, so she spoke to me and I told her: don’t say anything, please, the only thing I’m telling you is not to have an abortion, have the baby and if you don’t want it, I’ll adopt it, but don’t kill it, because then I’ll hate you all my life. We continued walking, we arrived home, I asked him for space, to let me breathe. She had no one else to support her, so I took responsibility. I had always wanted to be a mother, but since I don’t like men, I didn’t have money for an artificial insemination. I told her I only supported her because of the baby, if it was a boy, but I made it a condition that she would not separate me from the baby, that she would allow me to be part of her life for ever. The child’s father only gave her his last name, since he was a married man. When he was born it was like that light that completely fills the void, it was an inexplicable happiness, it was an angel, it is my angel. Rosme asked me to forgive her, with time and the pregnancy I forgave her, we continued together, she asked me to name the baby: his name is Gabriel Moses. From his first day he illuminated my life, seeing him was the most beautiful thing God could create. Wow! I became a mother, I worked, trained and raised Gabriel, who I did not love, so when I was able to take him out for a walk I took him everywhere, whether it was the three of us or just him and me. I felt complete. Later Rosme and I separated, at the beginning of the breakup it was horrible the treatment, although Gabriel practically raised him, she was very absent “experimenting”, with the passage of time she stabilized got a good person and our treatment was improving especially for the good of Gabriel, for his stability. Today Gabo is already 10 years old, I can say that he is a wonderful, noble child, he is my life. After my relationship with Rosme 7 years ago, I had two more relationships but they were not lasting. I believe that with Rosme I learned a lot, I matured a lot and my self-esteem was reinforced a lot. Today I don’t have a partner but I am calm and emotionally stable. Although it takes a lot to be loved, it takes more to love yourself to feel fulfilled.

Work in progress

Firstly I would like to say to Dom, I am so glad you have found your truth and I wish you all the happiness in the world.

I believe I have also found my truth but I’m not sure if it will ever be uncovered but i’m working on it!

I grew up in the 80s & with parents who didn’t talk about “that sort of thing”

When i was at high school which was an all girls school, I played a lot of sport (& still do) & I was always trying to impress the girls (& still am lol) but I always came back to thinking it was wrong and that it was expected to find a nice boy and get married etc. But that never happened!

I’ve always been very body conscious & so I wasn’t very confident in speaking to men and I wasn’t one for going out much either.

A couple of years ago I came across “Wynnona Earp” & I loved it from the very 1st episode but especially Waverley and Nicole. I’m a little bit obsessed with their relationship & i often think that I would love to have a relationship like that. Think turning 50 also made me realise it was time to think of myself and what I really wanted.

However, I still haven’t told anyone & if i am honest I am scared to. There have been a couple of times that I’ve thought about discussing it with a friend who is gay & also a couple of my best friends but i always chicken out. I am thinking that i will when/if i meet that special someone but until then just keep quiet.

This is the 1st time I’ve really opened up about my feelings & it feels good & I have Dom, Kat, “Wynona Earp” & the fandom to thank for that.

Attending my first ever con last year and being amongst such an amazing community made me realise that this is the right path for me.

Julie

I’d always been a tomboy. I grew up with 5 brothers and 1 sister (I’m also the youngest), and my dad was all about ‘the sports’ so we’d often be playing football, rugby, and quite a bit of cricket.

When I reached secondary school I really started to notice my feelings towards girls. I’d experienced these feelings before but I hadn’t known what they were, how to identify them.

I grew up in a really dodgy part of Yorkshire in England. It wasn’t a place one would ever identify as a ‘safe space’. It always felt like the whole town was… stuck. There wasn’t any art or culture, no diversity, and there certainly weren’t any (out) gay people. At least none that I can remember.

There wasn’t much to do in my town so as teenagers, me and my friends would end up drinking on the streets. I would only ever talk about my feelings when I was drunk and NEVER with anyone else, only ever to myself. I’d sit there and say “you’re not a lesbian. You’re not a lesbian!”

I did NOT want to stand out, I didn’t want to be different. When I was 14, a girl in the year below me had been outed and her life was made a living hell. No way was I going to do that to myself. So I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gay, that I’d meet the perfect boy and all those feelings would melt away thanks to his chiselled jaw and amazing magical penis.

Anyways, eventually I got out of that town and at 18 went to University. On my very first day, the very first person I spoke to was a super smiley friendly girl named Rachel. We immediately clicked and became instant best friends. But uh-oh, those pesky feelings were bubbling up again!

I ramped up my efforts to find the magical penis that drives off any lesbian tendencies. Personally, I found it pretty gross. And rather boring.

After about 4 months mine and Rachel’s friendship blossomed into something else. And it was MIND BLOWING! The first time we were together it was like my whole body was suddenly awake. Every touch, every sensation was just utterly amazing (I’m being super gushy, sorry). I was DEFINITELY a lesbian.

It wasn’t easy sailing though. Rachel and I had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. I’d finally accepted my feelings to myself and to Rachel, but my fear of people finding out I was gay was still firmly in place. That fear meant that I, at times, ended up hurting Rach. She wasn’t out either but she handled everything with a great deal more grace and elegance than I ever did.

Over time, as our fledgling romance deepened, we found the courage to come out to our friends. They were very loving and supportive which was a huge relief. I was terrified my best friend from home would be horrified and disown me, but her reaction was so far from it! Which is also silly because I’d known her since we were 6 years old, she was never going to push me away! But I suppose that’s why the fear intensifies when having to tell the most important people in your life – the idea of losing someone you love that much is a hard thing to shake off.

Rachel came out to her parents after about 6 months. Again, they were very accepting and welcomed me with open arms. When Rach was back home and I’d go to stay with them, not having to hide our relationship was such a weight off. We were even allowed to sleep in the same bed… Get in!! 😀

My coming out to my mum took just a little bit longer. Rach and I had been together almost a year. It was Christmas in the second year of uni and Rach was going back to her parents and I to mine. My brother came to pick me up and saw me saying a very soppy goodbye to my ‘best friend’. Over the 20 minute car journey he finally asked me “are you two a couple?”. The word “yes” sat in my throat for what felt like a lifetime. I eventually managed to push it out and then waited for the repercussions…

The smile on my brother’s face was the most relieving thing in the whole wide world. We talked, we laughed, I *nearly* cried (I’m not very good with emotions). Problem was, now my brother knew, it meant I had to tell my mum.

My mum is a very intelligent woman with some interesting views, shall we say. She had gay friends when I was in my teens, but she always called them ‘queers’ and not in the positive way. In a nutshell, I was sh*tting it.

I spent the whole of the two week Christmas break hovering, trying to blurt out “I’m a giant lesbian!”. I almost said it after watching ‘Bend Is Like Beckham’ after the whole confusion where Keira Knightley’s mum thinks she’s a lesbian. I took a deep breath, had the words ready, and said “right, I’m off to bed then”. Fail.

The last morning before going home I went and sat on my mum’s bed to talk to her. I still couldn’t do it. My mum threw me a lifeline though – “is there something you want to tell me? I feel like you’ve been hovering”. I got under her duvet, covered my face, heart pounding through my chest, lump in my throat, “me and Rach are an item”. Head between legs, fingers in ears, wait for the eruption…

“I know. I heard you call her ‘sweetheart’ on the phone. I didn’t ask because I wanted you to tell me in your own time”. And just like that, my mum knew I was gay and my world didn’t end. I even got a call from my gran telling me I was still the same person, and “we talk to ’em (gay people) don’t we!” She was trying to be sweet so I let that go.

My mum took it well initially but still had her own struggles with me coming out, mainly because she had plans for me to have a strapping young husband to do her DIY. She got there in the end though.

Rachel and I have now been together for 16 years and our 12th Wedding anniversary is in May. We have a 6 year old son and live a very happy ‘out’ existence. That smiley girl, the very first person a shy me spoke to at Uni, became the love of my life.

Apologies for the huge essay.

Final note though – if I’ve learned anything in my 34 years, it’s love who you love and live your best life for you.

Stay kind beautiful people.

The dance of sexualities and how I realized I wasn’t as straight as I thought I was

I was born almost 18 years ago in Germany, a country that nowadays strongly supports members of the LGBTQ+ community. I never saw that, though; I never really realized that gay people even existed. Sure, I knew it, I have heard about it, but never once in my life have I seen a gay person in real life.
Which is why I was frightened when I first looked after a girl. I was frightened because of my friends. They were by no means homophobic, but they always dreamed about boys, always talked about how they wanted their first kiss to be, some of them even were in relationships.
And then there was me, the girl who already felt like she didn’t belong anywhere before and it drove me even more insane that I did not want these things- or rather: I wanted them to be with a girl.
Whenever I saw an attractive woman on TV, I felt this weird, tingly feeling in my stomach. For a second it felt like home, or at least it felt right.
Not a single person around me showed any sign of homophobia, but I was scared, scared to admit the truth and I tried to push it away as far as possible. After, I fell into a hole. A deep, bottomless hole. My grades dropped, I stopped taking proper care of myself, I fell and it didn’t seem to stop. All because of these thoughts that kept recurring in my mind.

Years passed by and in 2015, I decided to share my thoughts with a friend of mine. She was okay with it, but it wasn’t a big deal to her. Being the shy child I was, I immediately regretted telling her and I started to think that she didn’t care about me.
A year later I told a few more friends about my sexuality, back then I labeled myself as bisexual, and all of them were more than just okay with it. I slowly became comfortable with it as well and started to watch LGBTQ+ related TV-shows and movies, I started reading more books and manga that dealt with women loving other women and slowly but steadily, I became comfortable in my skin.
2017 was a year filled with love, acceptance, and recovery. I started taking care of myself again, I got even more involved in the LGBTQ+ community, joined group chats and at some point, I even started making jokes about my sexuality. I was comfortable, but there were still two people missing in that equation: my parents.

I told them three times that I am not (only) into boys. The first time was in 2017, we were at a birthday celebration and at some point, I decided to tell my father that I’m bi. He didn’t believe me.
Coming-Out number two took place in 2018 when I was studying abroad in the United States. He never responded to that specific text message.
Number three, 2019, I told him when we visited Egypt. At that time, I already figured out that I was gay, not bi as I thought I was. He once again said that it isn’t true, that I am confused.

But I will not let that define me.
Because years later, I am here and I am an openly gay woman. I am proud of myself and even if I haven’t escaped the bottomless hole entirely, I’m almost there.
I have a lot of friends that belong to the LGBTQ+ community, the others strongly support it. I make jokes about being gay, on special occasions (Pride for instance) I dress up as a rainbow. If anyone asks me where I want to be in twenty years, I have no problem to admit that I want to live in an apartment in my hometown, a dog, wife and maybe a child by my side. I know who I am now and I am proud.

I am about to graduate from High School and I will go to college to study film. I want to write and produce TV-shows in the future because to me, they are not just entertainment, they are therapy. Shows/series like ‘The 100’, ‘Orange is The New Black’, ‘Wynonna Earp’ and ‘Carmilla’ have helped me to find myself and even friends who support me no matter what I do.

I want to change something in the future and I want to help people feel things they thought they could never feel before.
I want to #startthewave and give a voice to all the colours of the rainbow!

Much much love, respect, appreciation and gratitude from Germany!

I’m a little strong rainbow in a grey world

I think I’ve known I’m a lesbian since I’ve been a little kid, but it never occurred to me, because it wasn’t the norm? I was always told that I’d find my prince, I’d marry a beautiful man, get some kids one day and all my scars would fade away the second I’d give my heart in the hands of a guy. I was confused and overwhelmed when I got into a relationship with a guy, because everyone did it with 14, so we thought we should do it too since we were good friends. It didnt last long. I broke up with him after a few weeks because I’ve noticed that I dont want this. I didn’t want to hold his hand or kiss his lips. I was scared, I thought I’m not capable of feeling those shiny colourful emotions. Till a lesbian character showed up in my favorite soap opera when I was almost 15 and that’s when it hit me. She showed me that there’s a world besides those stupid stereotypes and it’s okay to like girls. I started to figure it all out, opened up to my closest friends and at the end I told my mother about it. Even though I can say it’s definitely better to share this with anyone if you accept yourself. I didn’t love myself back then, because I was scared of being different. I was never confident so to realise that you’re “different”.. let’s just say it wasn’t easy, so when my mother didn’t accept me i went immediately to a big black hole of hatred. But I fought my way through it and I’ve never been happier. Once you’re truly yourself, you start to see life with a positive attitude and since then I’m doing everything I can to support other people who have the same struggles, I had back then.

Good Afternoon from the tip of South Africa, Cape Town

My name is Melissa. I am a 36-year-old woman and have always been lesbian. My story is slightly different to many of the stories I’ve read on this site and would like to represent the LGBTQ stories that closely represent mine; my reason – I have not yet come across a story reflecting my journey.

My sexual orientation was very clear to me at the age of 5. It wasn’t a case of ‘i knew’, in fact, I had no idea that homosexuality was a term nor that it was deemed unacceptable in many worldly societies. I was simply being me. It was perhaps later when a fellow classmate mouthed a question to me; “What, are you lesbian?” that I realised, ah! people aren’t okay with this. It was not about the words she used but the tone and body language she used to express her disdain. I never hid my sexual orientation; I was far too confident of that. I was so confident that I had prepared myself mentally that when the day came that, I would inform my family and friends, I was ready to leave them behind because I was not willing to sacrifice a part of me for the sake of protecting the dignity and pride of others. At 16, I came out. At 18 I came out to the entire high school and not one person cared that I had nor were phased by the big step; I like to believe it is because I was confident and so in touch with myself that I would not allow the world to convince me that being me was actually wrong. Perhaps they felt that energy, perhaps they respected it or perhaps they really just didn’t care that I am attracted to women – I’ll never know. What I did learn was, always choose you first and support that strongly; there is only one you and for those that do not serve you well, walk away. Speak about your sexual orientation with normality; we attract what we reflect about ourselves to others – everything in life is a mirror.

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.

Naney

Aquí vamos, siempre supe que me atraían tanto las mujeres como hombres, es decir si siento algo por una persona no me detengo a pensar en el género, eso sobra, pero igual me percate que tengo tendencia mas hacia las mujeres, que como lo supe? desde que tengo uso de razón incluso en las películas de dibujos animados me atraían mas las mujeres jaja chusco pero cierto, en algún punto de mi adolescencia me dije a mi misma que no quería ocultarme al menos no con mis padres, cuando tenia 15 años decidí dar el paso y hablar con ambos aunque lo hice por separado, gracias al universo por la familia que tengo pues no todo es color de rosa, mis padres me aceptaron y me hicieron saber que no era ninguna enfermedad y que lo que sea que me hiciera feliz, a ellos por ende igual los haría felices, a veces pienso que a pesar de que ya pasaron 15 años desde que me abrí a mi realidad aun mi mamá siente algún tipo de aversión, nunca me lo ha dicho pero tal vez sigue en el camino de la aceptación, mi papá es un sol e incluso tengo la confianza de hablar con el de las chicas, como dije he tenido algún novio hombre pero mi familia sabe que es mas probable que llegue con alguna chica, y como también lo dije no todo fue lindo pues, a pesar de que mis padres me dieron su total apoyo desde el principio, mi hermana con la que he convivido más, al principio me hizo ver una realidad muy cruel llena de humillaciones y de asco por el solo hecho de que a yo no veía la vida de la misma forma en la que ella quería que la viera, eso ya fue, al pasar de los años lo comprendió e incluso es una buena confidente cuando llego a necesitar sus consejos, recién me pregunto un compañero de trabajo que soy? Entonces me quede pensando, es acaso obligatorio que llevemos una tarjeta de presentación indicando si nos gusta una cosa u otra? Porque a pesar de que sé que no tenia ninguna obligación de contestarle incluso me sentí intimidada al punto de pensar si mentiría en mi respuesta solo por seguir siendo parte de una sociedad a veces inclusiva, otras no tanto o depende de la conveniencia según se dé? No esta no soy yo, ya han pasado 15 años como decía, que salí a ser yo misma sin miedos, sigue siendo difícil sin ninguna duda a pesar del tiempo que ha pasado el pensar en la señalización de la gente, pero siempre que algo trata de detenerme sé que tengo a mi familia de mi lado siempre apoyándome y ahora aun mas bendecida, los tengo a ustedes que igual se que de ahora en adelante siempre contaré con esta hermosa comunidad dispuesta a brindar solo amor sin juzgar quien soy o como me veo, entiendo mucho y admiro de sobremanera a Dom porque al abrirse ella comentó la parte de esos miedos de no encajar o ser juzgado, cariño, aquí tienes una legión dispuesta a respaldarte y deberías saber que de la misma forma en que tu nos has llenado de amor, de bondad, de gratitud y demás hermosos sentimientos, nosotros lo haremos de vuelta a ti, eres la persona mas hermosa, valiente llena de convicción y entereza que conozco, ese amor desinteresado que tienes por la vida, por el ecosistema, por nosotros, siempre te será multiplicado, comienza a disfrutar esta hermosa vida que tienes por delante ya sin ataduras, que a pesar de las adversidades, no hay placer más bello que vivir tu vida plena y libre, todos te amamos y siempre vamos a estar aquí para ti y para quien sea que lo necesite con el amor que nos has enseñado a repartir a los demás.

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

Gay

I forced myself to have a crush on a boy because everyone else had one so that’s what I did. Little did I know that I was crushing on girls that were older than me and I didn’t even know it. I thought it was normal to feel that way so I never thought anything of it. I was always nervous and my face would always fluster because I was attracted to them. I remember when I was in 7th grade someone had asked me what my sexuality was and at that time I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t even know what gays and lesbians or even being bi was. So when I told them I was bi I didn’t really know what it meant so I just stuck with it. But a few days after that they ended up telling my whole class that I was bi. Every second that I had I denied everything because I was so scared of what people would think about me or if they would treat me differently. I was in a catholic school so it was never normal or shown so I denied every second of it. Until I moved schools and I saw diversity and I found out what sexuality was. That’s when I actually noticed that I was paying more attention to the girls rather than the boys. I made up what I thought were real crushes with boys and then I started realize that I liked girls the entire time. But of course I was always in denial of it. I even went online to take the ‘am I gay quiz’ I took so many of them, every single one of them came out positive. Even after all that I denied it I didn’t want anything to do with it because I was scared of it.
I remember one day my mom was taking me to soccer practice and she ended up talking to me about labels. And she started explaining to me about how my older sister thought that she was gay and that putting labels on things is what makes it become real. It sounded like my mom knew about me and basically told me I was full of crap for thinking the way I was even though I hadn’t told her anything about me. At this time I had a girlfriend and everything so I just brushed that conversation off. But but it made me feel insecure a little bit. It made me feel like I was stupid for falling for a girl and that it was fake like it was child’s play. So I hid my relationship the best way I could publicly and at home. I never really came out to my mom but now I’m growing into it and finally accepting myself for who I am. And it makes me shine brightly and especially to know that I wasn’t alone in this, that other people had been going through the same thing I was or am.