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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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“getting hit on by both genders is such a champagne problem”

I know I was different say special, was when I was 10 yrs old. I was brought up by my parents as Catholic and we usually go to church every Sunday. There was this one nervous moment of my life that I would never forget, where we usually hold hands to whoever is next to us when we sing this song in church and there this one girl who’s next to me. I don’t know how I exactly felt that moment but I was really nervous to hold her hand. My father was telling me to just grabbed her hand but I didn’t until the song was over. He asked me why did I do that and I just smile at him and said I don’t know. What I really felt that moment was this weird feeling. It’s like what I see on TV when the two leading characters feel in love with each other. I know the girl bc i went to the same school with her in elementary. She was few years older than me, I always admire her for her beauty and kindness towards other people at school. I couldn’t ask anyone what this feeling is called, I was to afraid to even asked my parents so I kept it all inside. Growing up I thought I would just forgot all about it. Then I went to highschool where I saw a lot of pretty girls and maybe some cute boys too. It makes me more confused about my sexual identify. Around 2009 when I saw Glee and i really find the show really amusing with all the singing and dancing but also bc the characters of the show where in highschool. I was hooked by Santana’s character and I can really see myself on her. The scene with her Abuela where she came out to her also terrified me. What if my parents don’t accept me too? I also live in a country where there’s a lot of discrimination towards lgbt community. Sad to say at the age of 25 I’m still in fear of showing my true self to my family and to the world, I really doesn’t have the courage to do it. Maybe when I turn 50 or something, maybe when my parents are old and gray they won’t mind. I’m hoping one day I can do it bc actually it’s giving me a lot of anxiety. Right now I’m spending my free time watching shows with queer characters to give me hope that someday I can be those characters too. P.s I watch ur show Wynonna Earp and Waverly is my fave. Not out yet, but will get there hehe. Love to all the queers out there. Xx. -J.A.

A proud lesbian

i knew i was a member of the lgbtqia + community when i was around 12. i had no idea what it meant to be gay or to like women. but i knew i was different. I knew that when i looked at girls i would get flutters in my stomach. and i knew that i would see myself with them. a few years later i found a webseries called carmilla. and all my sexual and emotional connections to woman came flooding out. after i finished the show i came out to the first person. it was rushed and i was scared and i had no idea if the way i felt was even real. but i told my friend ‘ i’m gay’ after months of fighting with myself i finally told someone. and it wasn’t the great relief you think of. it was horrible; i felt anxious and scared and i wanted to take it back. but i couldn’t. and after hearing that my friend supported me; it gave me hope. so the next few months i came out to more of my friends. but not yet my closest. as i knew it would be scary. but when i came out to my best friend at the time, she told me it was all ok and nothing i could say would change our friendship. so then i thought it would be ok to come out to my parents. i first came out to my dad on new years eve. i didn’t say the word gay because at the time labels scared me. but i told him i like girls. and he said he knew already and it wasn’t a big deal. and i was so happy. but i knew my mum was next, and i knew she was religious. and coming out to her would be a whole different experience. so when i saw her next i sat her down and told her i likes girls. she told me she already knew because my dad had told her. i was so heartbroken and hurt that my dad could out me when i wasn’t ready to be outed. i felt this hurt running through my body. and 3 years later i’m still not quite over him doing that. and my mum hasn’t been the best. she doesn’t like labelling me as as a lesbian. even though i told her i am comfortable with the label. it’s still a battle everyday to fully expect who i am but day by day it’s getting better and i am proud to call myself a lesbian after years of suppressing it. i am a lesbian.

I identify as transgender non-binary and bisexual

When I was around 13, i started to figure out that I wasn’t really straight. Something just felt wrong by saying that I was going to be a beautiful woman who is going to marry a man and have children and all that.
I started doing some researches about it, and I told myself that I was a bisexual woman. I stayed closeted for around a year before coming out to my parents as gay, wich felt more right than “bisexual” since I couldn’t picture myself as a woman dating a man.
So here I was, out and proud. Yet, something still felt wrong. When I was 14, I started watching some FTM transition video. I was so obsessed with those kind of videos, I couldn’t explain why at the beginning. I watched documentaries, tv shows, movies and everything until I realised that I wasn’t a woman either.
But calling myself “a man” was not right. And, as I kept searching, dysphoria started hitting.
Day after day, and without being able to explain why, the way I looked in the mirror felt less and less like me. One day, I found the definition of non-binarity, and it was it.
I am not a woman, but I am not a man either. I am me.
At 15, one month after my birthday, I came out to my parents as genderqueer, and I asked them to change my pronouns and name. Now, I am Charlie, and my pronouns are he/him.
About my sexuality, it as changed a lot with time. From a straight girl, I am now a self-made person who is going to fall in love someday, no matter what gender that person will be.
I am in a constant evolution and today I am proud of who I am.

I am Chelsey. I am a girl, a lover, a fighter, a wife and I am bisexual!

My story starts when I was young, about the age of 10, though I did not realize until more recently, and I am approaching my 26th birthday. When I was younger I had a bit of a struggle with my gender identity. I was a “tom-boy” and between the ages of eight to thirteen, I refused to wear clothes from the girls section, in favor of baggy “boy” clothing, and wearing short hair. I just felt more comfortable that way, but if anyone mistook me for actually being a boy, I got angry, and couldn’t understand why it was so hard for people to get that girls can like boy things too! To be fair, I did look like a boy so I didn’t have much of a right to be upset, and now I look back on those years and laugh a little. It was also around this time that I found myself becoming more and more infatuated with female icons or characters in movies and T.V. Moulin Rouge was my all time favorite movie at age 12, but instead of being obsessed with Ewan McGregor, I was in love with Nicole Kidman. I thought nothing of it besides admiring a great artist, who just so happens to be gorgeous, I didn’t think anything of this behavior, but my uncle, who lived with my mom and I at this time, and who is gay as well, clocked this behavior and starting making comments about being gay or a lesbian, and poking fun at me about it. This of course made me furious because, for one, his words rang true to me, but I am suborn and would not stand for someone else telling me what I was, or who I liked. And two, because I would get flustered and confused and thought that there was no way he could be right about me. That wasn’t what society said was right, and surely a whole group of people would be right and he, as one man alone, must be wrong. So I did what many many people do, about all conflicting and scary feelings, and I buried them away, deep down so that I wouldn’t have to confront them myself, or give anyone else to opportunity to tell me what my sexuality was again. Besides, my family already had a gay member, there couldn’t be more than one to a family, right? Isn’t that how it works??

When I reached puberty, I started to feel much more comfortable wearing more feminine clothing and became a lot more comfortable in my own skin, which as I’m writing this, I realize that is a little ironic because puberty is when most people feel the exact opposite… non-the-less, I was feeling more like “myself” despite having an occasional moment or feeling of attraction to my friends, the female friends. I told myself that those feelings were just there because we were so close and such good friends, and like in all relationships, it was normal to feel a little jealous when you had to start sharing your time among other friends or an occasional boyfriend. Except, I wasn’t feeling jealous of their time being spent with others, I was jealous of the boy holding my best friends hand, or talking all night with her on the phone, and getting to hear her profess her love for him. And when they would inevitably break up, I would feel a little bit relieved, and all too happy to through my arms around her in support and wipe her tears. But again, for years, I would lie to myself by saying that I was acting as any friend would, and that there was nothing more to it because there couldn’t be.

So, I fell in love with men out in public, and women in my mind. And for many years, I was content with this being my reality. I met an incredible man to whom I am now married and it has been with him and the security of our relationship, that I was finally able to start letting my feelings and attractions to women come to the surface to explore. There is a small part of me that wishes I had come to that point much sooner, and before we were married, especially given that I was quite young when we did so, and at twenty-two years old, there is so much life left to live and years to spend figuring out things like sexuality and love and attraction. But we were firm in our decision to marry and it was the best decision I’ve made.

I am not a particularly spiritual person, but I have truly been blessed with finding my husband who loves me for exactly who I am, and for being there to listen to my ramblings and vocal realizations about being bisexual. He created a safe place for me to talk about my feelings, when I had not created one for myself, and for that I am very thankful. Eventually I felt more comfortable talking to friends about my realization, and my sisters who are nothing but amazing and supportive, and honestly didn’t have much of a reaction to my confession, besides making it seem like there was absolutely nothing different about me to them. And I mean that in the very best way. I was still the same “Chelsey” that they grew up with, I was still me, only with a very big realization, which to be honest, some of them knew before I did. I became more and more comfortable with this as my new truth over the last four years that this discovery process lasted, but through all of it I was certain that I would never be comfortable telling my mother. I didn’t think that she would be angry or upset about it, I just didn’t want her to make some kind of snarky comment or mention the fact that I’m married to a man and the obvious complexities of sexuality and marriage. These were issues I had been navigating, quite gracefully with my husband for years and I wasn’t yet ready for her input.

Now I find myself in a strange position, along with the rest of the world, where I have not left my house for anything other than walking the dog and taking out the trash for twenty-one days. During my time of self-quarantine, I have been finding ways to stay creative. I am a writer and a photographer, which are mediums I have used quite frequently to express myself and other issues dear to my heart, but the topics of sexuality, lgbtq, gender norms and freedom have been taking up more space than anything else in my mind. I have written poetry and done a couple photo shoots with myself eluding to my sexuality, to use as my own full coming out to my mother. I don’t exactly know what shifted in my mind or in my heart about it, but I have come to a place where I would just so much rather be completely out and free to express and talk about who I am with everyone in my life. So when my mother asked to read my poem, as she is my biggest fan and I love her dearly for that, I sent it to her happily and without reservation or fear. It is as follows:

In all the land of milk and honey,
when all the land was warm and sunny
there stood a girl, and in her eye
she saw the long day pass her by.
She stood and stared, then sat to cry
for there was none to hold her high.

She had in mind the arms that would,
forbidden as they were.
For in those arms her heart did lie
though there was one thing more.
Their lives had parted long before,
still, longing filled her soul,
to hold the one for whom she’d die,
great love must come with a tole.

Devoted she was to someone new,
though torn, her mind had split in two.
With one for him and one for her,
but in the end with what to do,
she knew not who to choose.
For if she did, the choice she’d make,
well surely two would stand to loose.

But in the night, her dreams held true,
the love it was her heart went to.
Though with the dawn her sadness grew,
the warmth she felt was gone, she knew.

And though she woke, she could not rise.
Her mind was lost beneath her eyes,
instead it soared beyond the seas,
and weaved around among the trees.
It fluttered to the place she knew,
this place it was where her heart grew.

It found it’s way and hoped to stay
into the arms where lovers play.
And in those arms she loved so dear
her eyes began to shed a tear.
She wasn’t sad, or mad, but glad,
for it was her she’d wanted so bad.
And as it was her that her heart had belonged
she knew from the start that it had all along.

So I sent the poem off to my mom, and awaited the questions I knew that she would have for me. And she did have questions, and I answered them by explaining my journey to figure out who I am and who I want to be, and how I want to be seen and fit into the world. I explained that I have come to realize that I am bisexual and I am married to a man, and I would not change one second of this life I have been given to figure out. Her response was very simple, and to the point, and not what I had expected. She said “I thought so.” and added the “thinking man” emoji to her text. I am thankful to say that her response made me feel so relieved, and seen, and loved, and I will never take that for granted because I know that there are many other people out there with stories similar to mine, who do not get the same warm feelings in response to their coming out. I love my mother to pieces, and everyone who has been there to support me in everything I do in this life. I will take none of them for grated, and I will be living my life, doing the best to spread love, understanding and light to those dark sides of society as I go.

Thank you so dearly, from the very bottom of my heart, and from the depths of my being where I had been hiding away my true self for so many years. Everyone living an out and open life, and everyone who is trying to get there right now, you are all my heroes, and you are not alone in this crazy world!

All my love to you,

Chels

Samantha – Homoromantic Demisexual – She/Her/Hers

My story takes place in Texas, commonly known as one of the least open-minded states in the United States. My story is a long one, as my identity evolved drastically through time. I am blessed, however, to have grown up in a very loving and accepting family. I’ve known members of the LGBTQ2IA+ community my whole life, yet I never really considered it for myself until I was around 16. As a kid everyone would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up and I would stay silent because there’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted to be. Happy. At 16 I had no idea who I was and how could I be happy when I didn’t even know what or who I wanted in life. I honestly didn’t have much to go off of, I’d never had so much as a crush on anyone, regardless of gender. I credit much of my realization to the love I have for television. At 16 I would watch pairings like Clarke and Lexa from the 100 and it helped me to accept the fact that maybe I was gay. I say that like I was just like “Yep, I’m gay” but honestly I just felt like I needed to put a label on myself and although “gay” didn’t really feel like it fit who I was completely, I didn’t really know what else I could be. I could imagine myself in a relationship with a woman in a way that, to this day, I cannot imagine with a man. And honestly, the thought terrified me. Society can be cruel, as can my mind. I began to ask myself if the “unconditional” love my parents had for me was truly that, or if I would lose everything and everyone I love in one fell swoop by coming out. I mentally weighed the options countless times and basically began to prepare for the worst. Family and friends have always been the most important thing in my life and therefore, I decided that I if I could save my relationships by waiting for the “perfect moment” then that’s what I would do. Fear cost me a year of my life and I quickly learned that the perfect moment does not exist. So I decided to do what I do best, and write it down. See I’ve tried the in person coming out thing and call me a coward, but I am not built for the extra level of stress and anxiety it gave me. So a week after my 17th birthday, I came out to my parents as gay via college application. I don’t think I’ll ever forget holding my breath as they read over my shoulder, nor will I forget the silence that seemed to last forever before my mother sat next to me, turned towards me, and asked…”so you really never want to see men naked????” I laughed and the anxiety began to fade, even if the label wasn’t a perfect fit. I knew it was just the first step to coming out, but I had at least gotten through it alive. Though the inaccuracy of the label I had given myself still bothered me. That’s when I turned to research. So. Much. Research. Why didn’t I experience crushes the same way that other people did? Why did I not care at all about sex in a society that was seemingly obsessed with it? That same week I came across AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, and began to read. I cried. They were describing me. Until that moment I had never heard of asexuality, it was so far off my radar and I quickly learned just how far off everyone else’s radar it was too. Cut to 18 year old me entering college for the first time. At this point I had come out to my immediate family. Again. And a select few of my friends. I had also been told by various people that people like me “shouldn’t exist” or that it was just a phase I would grow out of. I learned how common it was for asexual people to feel broken or even inhuman. People often assume that due to our sexuality, we don’t have emotions or the capacity to love or be loved. A cruel assumption but one that still occasionally plagues my feeling of self-worth. Despite these social pressures however, I entered college wanting nothing more than to be out and proud in this new place with all these new people. For the most part I was, though I knew that for every acquaintance I told, there was a family member that should’ve heard it from me first. So once again, I wrote it down. At 19, I came out on instagram and the same week I mailed 7 coming out letters and just like that, I was out to the world. The most stressful week of my life freed me. I was able to finally live my life as the emotional burden began to lift. Never have I been prouder of myself than in that moment. The 3 year journey led me to finally feeling seen and comfortable with who I am. Flashing forward to my life now as a 20 year old, my journey continues towards self-love. And although the state of the world worries me, I can honestly say that sitting down with my parents during this quarantine and watching Wynonna Earp, I really feel, for the first time in a very long time, happy. #OutIsTheNewIn

A butterfly who loves flowers

When I was 5 yrs old I had a huge crush on my female teacher. I knew it was different because I felt butterflies in my stomach. It was way different from my admiration to boys. After that I had another crush on a 6th grader when I was in my 3rd grade. She didn’t like the attention and the fact that I had a deep admiration to her so she ended our friendship. I was so heartbroken and confused. What did I do wrong? Why can’t I just like her? Then on my 5th grade I had a 6th grader gf whom I invited to go to my house. My mom was open about it and made a joke of how weird and abnormal I am. I think my family knew I am into girls since I am more boyish than girlish. I love playing ball games, wearing shorts and big shirts. They even call me “Cathy Boy” for standing up to boys (who bullied me and some girls) and for just being me. I haven’t had any struggle coming out with my family probably because I have a colorful family (gay aunt, sister, and cousins).

Though I am fortunate of having a family like them, I had difficulty coming out to the entire world. Coming from a Catholic and patriarcal country like the Philippines, it is still a big deal if you’re part of LGBTQIA++ community. I could remember back in my college days that some of my friends lectured me from acting on being gay. They told me that it is a sin to engage into sexual lesbian acts but being one is not. Some told me it is just a phase in my life. So back then I had few experiments. I tried dating and kissing men for a week or two but it didn’t work out. I knew there was something wrong. Something lacking. SPARK! It is different when I kiss a woman. There is magic. There are butterflies in my stomach. There is fire. There is passion. There is care. There is love. There is happiness.

It’s been more than a decade since I decided to just be me regardless of what people say. All I know now is that I am proud of being me and for being in the LGBTQIA++ COMMUNITY.

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’m bisexual with a chick bent.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent. I discovered myself as such when I entered my first year of high school. Our sexual orientation, we’ve had it since birth. It’s just that it can take time to discover ourselves and to assume it, and to say it around us when the urge comes to us. Even though I’m almost 17, I haven’t told my family yet because I’m afraid of their reaction (even if I assume it completely). Only my friends know it and for the moment it’s enough for me. I will surely tell them when I turn 18 with the freedom of a young adult. You shouldn’t deny yourself or be afraid of being because of what you are deep down inside. It is preferable to look for yourself to be the most beautiful person possible. What I just wrote may not be understandable with my spelling mistakes and everything else 😅 but for the moment I feel happy. I hope this text will help other people because time is an eternal present.

Simply Amy

I was 15 years old, but I guess I always knew, had my first kiss with a girl on a dare and it sparked something in me, my friends accepted me before I even accepted me. Spent years struggling with my sexuality identity and still do to this day, didn’t come out to my parents until I was 21 forced out the closet by my ex girlfriend, which I resent but same time grateful for, I’m open and I’m free and last year (age 28) I found the label pansexual which suits me, I love women cis gendered or not I love non binary and rarely but yes I do sometimes find myself attracted to men cis gendered or not. I’ve struggled with my gender but never really wanted to change my body and I still struggle with that identity. Sexuality and gender is fluid and I’m always going to be figuring that out but that’s ok…. I’m simply Amy and that’s ok too

The First Gay of the Rest of my Life

Growing up I always felt different.

This different-ness kept me from having authentic and deep relationships for most of my adolescent and young adult life, before I was even aware of what my “difference” was. I was never fully myself – I had a deep seeded anxiety that I was going to somehow let everyone know this thing that I didn’t even know about myself yet.

When I was 16 I had my first real kiss. I say real because I had kissed a handful of guys and felt a gut-wrenching anxiety before during and after each time. I remember wondering if that’s what the feeling all my friends talked about loving – so why didn’t I love it?

Well my first kiss at 16 told me why. I magically made a new best friend. She somehow rose in the rankings effortlessly in the 3 short weeks that I had known her, getting that coveted “best friend” position. Thinking back on the whole thing makes me smile because as horrifying as it was back then, it’s kinda cute to think about little gay me and how obvious it all was.

At this point I was having fleeting moments of feelings when our hands would touch, or she would lay her head on my shoulder, or she seemed to seek me out the same way I sought her out. These fleeting moments manifested as one of those jolts you get right after you’ve done something embarrassing, or you are carrying a laundry basket down a flight of stairs and think there’s one more stair beneath you but your foot hits the ground too quick. That split-second “oh f***” moment followed by that FULL body halo of heat that disappears just as quickly as it came.

Despite all the signs that were there – I continued to lie to myself and think that these touchy moments and our obsessive need to talk and be around one another and the phone bills from the literal 17,000 texts a month we sent (sorry dad… Also, did I even sleep? ALSO, yes it was long ago enough that you had to pay for texts past a certain amount. I’m showing my age – I digress.) were just the signs of best friendship. So one night she slept over. And as bffs do, we obviously went to bed forehead to forehead holding hands between us because that is just what best friends do, right? Anyway… I could feel her breath on my lips (remember… i was STILL lying to my conscious brain even at this point) and I think my heart rate spiking to the level it did made me actually black out because all of the sudden I opened my eyes and I WAS KISSING HER! I came to just after I had casually kissed my best friend and squeaked out a GOODNIGHT! and rolled over.

I didn’t sleep a M-Fing wink that night. I stared at the wall with my heart in my throat wondering WHY I JUST RUINED MY NEW BEST FRIENDSHIP. Turns out I didn’t. She kissed me the following night and thus ensued a secret 4 year love affair. Yes, I said it… 4 years.

We stayed in the closet together for those four years until I met my first gay friend in college. Coming out to even one person in my life started to make that closet my secret gf and I were in feel really claustrophobic. Eventually we parted ways and I came out to everyone I knew within the next few months. I count my blessings everyday that my coming out was easy for me because I know not everyone experiences it this way. But coming out strengthened my relationship with every single person in my life because the parts of me that no one ever touched were no longer untouchable. I stopped filtering myself (which is also a little detrimental at times) but all of my bonds became stronger because I was letting everyone love me for all of me. All the parts of me.

My story is longer than that but I’ll get off my soap-box for now.

Also to everyone terrified out there – find your one person. Even if you aren’t ready to tell the world and even if it’s a stranger online. Tell your person because even being your true self to just one person can make a huge difference. That being said – it’s okay to not be ready. When you are ready though… you’ve got an army waiting for you.

-Mo