Community Rainbow Waves

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

A discombobulated female that is into girls

It never completely dawned on me that it wasn’t socially ‘normal’. Both my parents had never shown a liking to the community but never expressed directly that they hated it either. We moved house a lot when I was younger cause of their work, so I got to see so many different cultures and ways of living.

I first got the impression that I was (in some ways) different when I was in secondary school. My favourite teacher did an assembly on LGBTQ+ topic, and ended it by coming out (subtly). A few months later I was questioning her on all things GAY! How to know if I was gay, if other people could tell etc. I ended up coming out as lesbian in year 9, and from then I noticed an increase in my confidence and self-respect. Most of my friend were extremely supportive giving me even more reasons to be proud.

I came out to my parents a month ago, 2 years after my first big announcement. I was only able to do this because of my amazing teacher guiding me through the hate crowd we call a society. She is the reason I can stand up to people and admit that I am a lesbian.

I want this to show that support and knowledge about LGBTQ+ matters and can make someone change from a nervous 11 year old with a stutter to a strong(ish) 16 year old.

I haven’t had a long battle with my sexuality and sometimes I am told that I’m not ‘old enough’ to know what I want. BUT I am proud of me and my community 🙂

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.

Still Human

I have known I was different since I was in 6th grade, I am now a freshman in their second semester of university.I always remember being the odd one out because I didn’t find people “hot”, I even dated a guy whom I thought of just as a friend simply because I didn’t want people ever questioning me. I live in a country where being myself is illegal, where people like me are shunned and bullied at school, and religion played a big role in that. The first person I came out to was my best friend, this was during spring break of senior year in high school,I was so nervous to tell her not because I thought she would hate me but because I knew how religious her family was after all her father taught my Religions(I’m not mentioning which religion because I don’t want people attacking any religion)class, even then I couldn’t say the words in person I sent her the longest message then I closed my phone and didn’t look at it for hours, she was actually pretty chill about it. The second person I came out to was to an openly bisexual student at my high school, I didn’t even know her that well but I trusted her and out of solidarity I came out. I came out to my sisters the summer before my first semester at university, my younger sister didn’t quite understand but she was chill, when I told my older sister she came out to me which was awesome.

Then flash forward to club showcase at my university my sister and I are walking around pointing out clubs we want to join then my sister grabs my hand and leads me to a table that has changed my life. My university had an LGBT+ club and I joined. Everyone was welcome in the club and I felt like I had found my home. No one ever asked me what I identified as we just all talked, laughed and accepted one another. I consider myself aspec and as someone who uses micro-labels to specific I identify as a demiromantic demisexual. When I came out to my club they were accepting even though the aspec community is a known, some of them didn’t know what asexual or aromantic meant but they were willing to learn. At that point I still identified as a female but I felt wrong in my own skin. Winter break I came out to my mother as demisexual and she told me that it wasn’t a real thing but she accepted me whatever that means so at that point I decided maybe I would not tell her anything ever again. I went online and found other people going through the same thing and decided I would do something. So at first I used ace bandages which is NOT recommended no one should do that. Then I finally ordered some binders and tried them I had never felt more myself. Now I was stuck in the situation of having to come out again but this time as non-binary. I started by telling m friends who were in the club then I just told the whole club. I tried to tell my sister but turns out not everyone in the community is inclusive and that just made me so sad. My mother got made when she found my binders and confiscated them luckily I have good friends who ordered more for me. I would leave my apartment go to a campus bathroom then put on a binder. Still my friends accepted they immediately used my pronouns they/them and corrected people who still used she’her they were considerate when I struggled to pick a new name for myself because I felt my birth name was not my own.

As someone who hasn’t seen people like myself on TV or online in general I thought I was messed up that there was something wrong with me. I found myself online with people who are so accepting, the ace and aro community were so willing to help me find myself, and I did. Maybe I’ll come out to my family maybe I won’t but I found my real family and they know me and accept me. So I’m writing this in hopes that it will help someone not feel alone, because as Dominique said out is the new in. I am OUT.

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

From Fear to Pride

According to many of the people in my life, it was obvious that I was queer from a very early age. For them, it was either when I chopped my hair short, or wore a bow tie to prom, or dressed up in male drag for fun starting at the age of 12 (my favorite was dressing up as Justin Bieber). For me, it wasn’t as obvious. I had always known I was different, but I could never quite pinpoint what that difference was. I just figured I was a Tom Boy. My middle school days were spent watching Glee, wearing bow ties, and being bullied by many of my peers. Despite the names I was called, I never once changed how I presented myself. Of course, the bullying still hurt. It was these negative interactions that shoved me deeper into the closet, without even knowing I was in the closet in the first place. As I got older, I tried as hard as I could to be “straight”. Pretending to have crushes on guys just to feel like I fit in with my friends, wearing dresses to formal events (when it made me outrageously uncomfortable to do so), and just not completely owning up to who I was because I was scared. Coming from a rather conservative town, there weren’t a lot of people (particularly girls) who dressed the way I did or liked the same things I did. I was clueless as to what was happening. It wasn’t until freshman year of college that I came to the realization that I was, in fact, gay. It was this moment of instantaneous relief and fear that washed over me. I was able to figure out why I felt so different when I was younger. Much of this epiphany was due to consuming A LOT of queer art once I started college. The musical “Fun Home” and comedians Cameron Esposito, Rhea Butcher, and Tig Notaro really helped in my journey of self discovery. The first people I came out to were my friends, who said things like “I knew it!” or “I’m proud of you” or “you didn’t know that already?” It was an overwhelmingly positive response that really made me feel supported. The next step was figuring out how to come out to my family. My sister and I are two of the only liberal people in my family so approaching her about it was actually quite simple. It was the rest of my family I was concerned about. It took me 4 years to fully come out to my whole family. A quick side note, I attended film school and much of my work was based in my experiences as a queer person. My family didn’t see any of my work. Senior year of college rolled around and it was time to make my thesis film. The story was about a queer person going on their first date. Eventually, I knew I would have to raise funds for the film, which would mean reaching out to family members, which would mean coming out. I knew I needed to do it and this was the right time, so I came out the only way I could, using my art. When I launched my fundraising campaign, I made a video along side it, where I officially and publicly announced my queerness! My heart raced as I clicked the “POST” button on Facebook. I felt so vulnerable and exposed in that moment, but in a good way. It was a different vulnerability than I felt when I was in middle school and people would bully me. This vulnerability was rooted in pride, not fear or shame. It was as if this weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My posture changed from being slumped over to holding my chin a little higher. I am grateful for the incredibly encouraging response from my loved ones and their support after I came out. Of course things are still difficult and not everyone is accepting of who I am, but I am learning that those are the opinions that matter the least. I wish I could tell that little 7th grader wearing a bow tie and listening to the Glee Cast version of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” on her iPod Shuffle to never stop being who she is. It was my determination to be authentically who I was that turned me into the strong person I am today. My hope is that by sharing my story, others can connect and feel a little less alone in this world. Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep being you.

Talitha

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT HATE CRIMES.

I am not really good at writing about myself or my experiences,
I suppose first I should say I am a lesbian.
I have been out and proud for over 12 years probably longer if I really
think about it, I have not always embraced who I was, whether that be
because I am afraid or because I had no role model to really look up to
growing up which I am sure many people say.
In my school it was not okay to be different, being different got you a
one way ticket to hell, when I was in school and just coming into my
sexuality and figuring out who I was as a girl I saw my best friend
being beaten his hair set on fire all because he was gay and he was out
and proud and at the time I didn’t that to happen to me, I didn’t want
to be bullied or beaten simply because I chose to love women and so I
sat in my own little bubble protecting the most important part of
myself.
It took years for me to feel even just a bit confident to admit to my
best friend that I was a lesbian and even longer to tell my mum which
was more of me crying and refusing to actually say the words until she
guessed what it was I was trying to say. My mum was supportive which
doesn’t always happen and in that respect I was very, very lucky I could
have had it much worse.
My father was a different story even though he said he wasn’t bothered
by it, I could tell our relationship had changed and yes it is upsetting
but I moved on I wanted to get rid of any negativity in my life and only
bring about positive change.
Then the worst thing happened, something which set me so far back in my
journey to discover who I was as a woman. My nan went to hospital the
same year I came out, so I hid again from the world, from who I really
was and I pushed it so far down within myself, I had never told my nan
who I was because I was afraid she would hate me. My mum told me after
my nan had died (2012) that my nan knew I was gay and that my panic and
self hatred (I hated myself around this time and turned to ways that
were not so healthy to cope) were for nothing, that I was still her
granddaughter whom she loved with all her heart. Flash forward 8 years
and now I own my sexuality and I am not afraid of it, I have a beautiful
wife whom I love with all my heart and I am an ear for anyone who is
coming to terms with who they are my door is always open to those that
need it and that’s the kind of positivity I want to show the world that
being gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, queer or anything else doesn’t
matter to me as long as you are a good person.

“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.”

Queer / Non-Binary

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF ABUSE, SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR, AND SUICIDE.

Hello, my name is Paula from Brazil and my coming out history is a little confusing, so I’m gonna try to resume it as possible as I can.

Why is it complicated? Because a huge part of my childhood was erased from my mind, or at least for a long period I had these huge blanks in my brain, consequences of child abuse suffered from my 8 until my 12 years old. So when my teens came up I was struggling with a lot of stuff, so my orientation and sexual identity was on the surface of all my internal problems. Such as depression, substance abuse, ODs, attempts of suicide, and hospitalizations.

But at the same time, I was quite different and I was pretty conscious that I had attractions with girls but also with boys. Although with boys I was feeling guilty as well. Because I was constantly feeling all this overwhelming hate. Hate of the world, hate of myself, and hate of all men… almost rage if I’m being really honest. Probably, that’s why I was constantly close to dying because I wasn’t giving a fuck about anything.

My brother and best friend (RIP) was the first person I’d come out. I was 14 years old. But is funny though, because was him that asked me with I was gay. And was ok with all my family, as a matter of fact, everybody embraced. Honestly, I didn’t have a problem with the girl’s attraction part, I’d always felt comfortable and safe with them. My struggle was accepting that it was okay having attractions for boys as well. That only took 10 years of my life, even though I was able to have sex experiences with men I’m still having trust issues, emotionally speaking.

Only four years ago I could see other questions tagged in my mind. Questions about my identity, am I trans or not? Because I never felt comfortable with my body, but is it possible that is my child abuse tricking me? Or maybe I just don’t like labels and have a different idea about what women and men are. Or maybe I just don’t feel like either one of them. This is still a work in progress and sometimes I don’t think if I still have the energy. Or maybe is just fear because I live in a country where LGBTQ people have no voice or even proper rights. Especially trans people. Every day a trans life is taken from just for being trans in Brazil.

Music, art, vegan diet, animal care, and LGBTQ activism. Those are all the stuff that literally saved my life. Because I feel like we are here to constantly changing and to always transcend to a better version of ourselves, and maybe or probably, I’m gonna need another life to discover it. So kills me how the world can be so ugly sometimes.

And that’s why I really don’t know how I’m alive. I’m 30 years now and I look all this stuff I had to survive and deal with. But surprises me every day how hopefully I still am, and surprises me how I can be so fucking positive that annoys myself.
I know that I need to deal with a lot of stuff yet.

But I’m proud to already be so much more.

And especially I’m proud to look backward and access all that pain and suffering but with all the fucking strength of the world.

I’m proud to just be alive, honestly.

I was a bird that can’t fly. Then sudden I met “love”. She gave me wings to fly high but yet scares me.

When I found love. I didnt say anything, I’m just action speak louder than words. I think everyone, no, not everyone notice what makes me happy. But I am glad i found love and Im lil bit scared because not everyone knows or accepted my imperfection. And that’s for being a Bi. So I am not totally out because I’m scared.