Community Rainbow Waves

Love is universal, kindness is beautiful

Now when I think back, I realized that I always felt this way, but growing up in a heavily religious country I didn’t know this was normal.
The talk was always “when a men and I women love each other” (fill in the rest). This construct of what love and partnership is supposed to be, leaves no room to be truly open and explore feelings.
I thought I was weird, I thought something was wrong with me and so I didn’t say anything to anyone.

On top of that, the message that everything outside heterosexuality as “unnatural and sinful” was present in society and even school. There was no reference to same sex couples, gender fluidity or anything else.

I remember having feelings for girls and when they became friends (that is how I explained it) is friendship and nothing else, but it also happened with boys, which added to the predicament.

Then around grade 8 news about violence against “those people” were more visible (or maybe I noticed more) stories of rape and murder with no one being brought to justice.
I can’t like girls it is dangerous…. fear really intensified in me!
So I concentrated on the boy part of my feelings, pushing my feelings for girls way, way down!

I didn’t want to admit it but I still felt not quite myself, there was more to me. I didn’t take the time to understand what my feelings really were, there was no language I knew about how to express what I was feeling.

Fast forward and I came to Canada, I wish I could say that I felt free to explore all sides of me, but
A new country – culture shock and feeling lost
High school while learning a new language
Wasn’t a citizen – fear of being turned back

My mind was so busy with, learn the language, pass classes, make money to survive, help mom in everything needed – calls, translation, doctors etc., I didn’t have time to be a teen, let alone revisiting my feelings for people, because no matter how much I pushed them down, these feelings were always there.

I was lucky and towards my final year I made really good friends and things started to look up.
Even though there were instances in which I wanted to come out, I felt it wasn’t the time yet.

Eventually my mom started the conversation “Maybe you can find a nice guy to marry and have kids with” I told myself “this is it, this is how I’m going to come out to my mom”
I turned to her and I said: what if I fall in love and it is not a guy, what if I fall for someone else?

She looked at me, paused for a couple of seconds (which felt like an eternity) and said “As long as you love and respect each other, is all the same to me, I just want you to be happy”
I cannot explain what I felt at that moment
I will carry those words with me forever!

Since then I’ve come out on different occasions depending on my comfort level, I know the people who truly care about me will have my back.
Coming to terms with this part of me has filled me with a warm sense of community that I didn’t know I could be part of and opened up some amazing opportunities to form new friendships.

Fear can be strong but LOVE is powerful!

I am glad I finally let go, because loving openly brought life to a new level where essence matters more! I now know love is more complex than the narrow narrative I was taught.

Love is universal and kindness is beautiful
Let us ascend to new heights together

I am queer and happy to be in this journey
I can’t wait to see what life brings!
Mace

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

Book_Music

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community roughly at the age of 7 it was definitely hard for me to come out since both of my parents are religious, (babtist & Apostolic) I had came out to my mom at the age of 10 and never came out to my dad cause I would get thrown out of my home. Luckily both of my siblings and mom accepted me and I felt really validated but sadly I am never able to tell my father which gives me horrible anxiety and other thoughts (as well as other stuff). I am now 13 and I have helped many of my friends through coming out as well as figuring out who they are.

I AM A WORKING PROGRESS

I am a working progress; I think that is the better way to describe myself.
Growing up I have always felt like I didn’t belong in my family, that there was something off about me. My family and teachers and a lot of people made me feel like I was never enough, like I didn’t belong there. I am sure they didn’t mean to, but that’s how they made me feel. I had zero self-steam and I didn’t like anything about myself, in fact, I considered myself a bad person and didn’t believe in me. And the worst thing was that I didn’t get me, I knew there was something off with me but could get my head around it, like a part of me was missing… and I felt lost and alone.
But two years ago, my life started changing when for the first time and without me expecting it I felt in love with a girl. I have never been attracted to women before, so this came as a totally surprise for me. And it scared me a lot and made me really confused and my head couldn’t stop spinning with all the questions and mental confusion I had. I didn’t know what was happening and I new I had two options I could either burry everything and ignore it or I could deal with it and see what was happening. And obviously I am here so I took to follow my heart and not my head. Because as scared and confused I was feeling, a part of me knew that there was something in it that felt RIGHT.
And here started the most difficult, challenging but totally worthy journey I have ever taken. I have never been a confident or extrovert girl as you might have already figure it out. It takes me forever to express my feelings and since I am really shy and was really confused, I decided to not tell anyone anything until I got something clear in my head and figure out what all of it meant. So, I dated this girl for more than a year without anyone knowing it. But at some point, after days of feeling overwhelmed with thoughts and shouting inside my head, I finally had the courage to do what for me was one of the most difficult things to do which was come out to MYSELF. Accept myself and accept that I was no longer only attracted to man but that if I felt for a woman that meant that I could fell for another women. Accept that I was bi-sexual. And even though for me it was a really difficult to accept, not for me but because of how much my life will have to change and the struggles that I knew I will have to face. Specially with my super traditional and old-school family. But for the first time I GOT ME, I understood me, I MADE SENSE.
But at some point, accepting myself wasn’t enough. I reached a point in my life where I was in a bad place. I was not feeling good at home, I was under a lot of pressure within the University and work, I was not okay in my relationship and I was feeling like I was tired of hiding this part of myself to my friends. I have been hiding myself for over a year and now that I had finally accepted myself, I started to feel like every time I would talk to my friends, I was lying to them by not letting them know this other part of me. So, I was not happy in any aspect of my life and everything was killing me inside and I went into depression.
And at one point in this depression I reached the bottom, I could not feel any worst. And in that moment I said to myself “ okay, you have shit in your life and you are feeling worst than you have ever felt but you touched the ground, you cannot feel worst… and it is okay to be sad and angry and confused and desperate but now it is time to get up” and what I did next was to go one by one to each thing that was killing me inside and try to figure out if I could do something about it to change it. And so I decided it was time to tell someone because I couldn’t deal with everything by myself. And I knew exactly who I needed but even though I was sure who I was going to come out, it took me 3 days to tell her. I did 3 attempts and it didn’t come out as I wanted and obviously I was crying and it was a mess, but that moment changed my life. Because when I told one of my best friends that I was bi, she had the best reaction ever… she looked at me, smiled and said “Really? Well now I like you even more”
Sometimes you just need a look, a smile or someone to tell you the words that you didn’t know you needed to hear. Because at that specific moment, I felt like a huge weight was off my shoulders. I was carrying so many things by myself that I couldn’t do it anymore. And it made me feel amazing and happy and relieve. And I loved so much that reaction that within the next one or two months I told all of my closest friends and every time I said the words, even though it was still really hard it took me a huge weight of my shoulders.
And from there everything started to get into place. Some of my friendships changes so much (in the best way possible), I ended the relationship that was being really toxic (although it gave me the best gift of my life), I got a job in another country so I could leave my family and that environment and I started to love myself.
And its been several months since then, and I can tell you I have never been happier. I am a working progress and still have a lot of way to go but finally I get me, I accept me, and I am starting to like me. I feel free and proud and happy and excited to see what life has to offer me. And yes I still have to tell my family and a lot of people but for the moment, I am in another country where I can be who I really am, my friends back home know me and love me and I feel more complete that I have ever felt.

Lesbian

Not much of a story, but have always felt different in a way. And when I tried dating a boy it felt so wrong. I’ve never felt those feelings you are supposed to feel when I was with a guy but would be attracted to woman or at that stage girls, and would only feel the butterflies with them.
Because of the way I grew up and the kind of people my family were I didn’t want to accept it and couldn’t accept what I was. Found my sell falling deeper and deeper into a hole and losing myself. When my sister found out, she was supportive and helped me thru it. Finally learned to accept who I was and when I did I felt tons lighter
It was a struggle and still learning what this all is but now I don’t apologize for who I am.

Jessi, the gay woman

I was about 17 when I realised. I developed a crush on not 1 but on a group of 3 girls on the bus. 2 of them were sisters. I didn’t have a big coming out, not even with my parents, but I grew up in a place and around people that I knew wouldn’t have a problem with it. The first time I did actually tell my mom was right before I was going live on a radio show. My mom NEVER listened to the radio but that night of all nights she was. So I figured I would give her a little heads up I was going to be on the radio. So I ran into her bedroom and yelled “I’m going to be on the radio!” and then ran back out just to run back in and yell “to talk about my bisexuality!” I didn’t give her time to respond and she never actually did but I knew she was gonna be okay with it otherwise I wouldn’t have done that. Now we’re so many years later, changed a bit (or a lot) and I’ve come to the realisation I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a man and can only see myself in a serious relationship with a woman. The older I got, the less I was interested in men to not at all anymore. Which is also why I identify as gay, because I don’t want to give myself a specific label like lesbian or bisexual. I’m happy with being gay.

I am a Skatebording Bronx NY Musician

Sometimes being a wild musician has repercussions.
I had known for a while that I had lesbian tendencies. Women are beautiful creatures, truly. Being a pretty boisterous musician on stage, I also like to keep my private life separate.
A few girls had come and gone, under the radar of most of my friends and family…
Until I was lowkey dating this cute little troublemaker of a girl in my mid 20’s. We got uhm…into things in my old bedroom – an artsy basement turned music studio where my band mates and I tackled each other one night and somehow flew into the bedroom door, knocking it clear off its hinges (mind you, I fell backwards with it) and laziness prevented me from fixing it. After all, I had moved out a while back, so no need…right?

As things heated up, I wasnt paying attention to my surroundings and my father somehow found his way into the basement to ask me about dinner. Low and behold, he pokes his head thru the blanket aka makeshift door, and BOOM. Caught. Red. freaking. handed. (How embarassing!)
I’ve never seen him dart back upstairs so fast lol.
AND Woah! Instant cold shower. For both of us. I didnt know what to do! She kinda paniced! I hadda think fast.
So I quickly threw myself together, and went upstairs.
My poor dad. ‘I am not sure what I just saw…uhm’
I put my hands into my sweatpants pockets and kinda squeeked out
‘Well……I am gay? And that was my beautiful girlfriend downstairs and uhhhh here lemme go get her and introduce you.’ He was shocked, but totally fine with it. Everyone was! What a relief. I got lots of support and I should have said something sooner. But Talk about being outright caught. We still laugh about it to this day.

Happily working on it…

My best friend at primary school was my first love. I remember a lot from that time although frustratingly not first meeting her. But I remember her vividly. Tall (obviously relatively) with long dark hair and a lick right in the centre of her forehead. Her name was Cassie and when one day she wasn’t well enough for us to hang out, it was the first time I recall my heart hurt. I sat on my swing and I cried.

But even at primary school at the same time I was clearly in love with Cassie I had a boyfriend with whom I shared my first kiss, and more boys and more kisses followed. I liked boys a lot – I still do, they are often the people with whom I feel most comfortable and share the most in common. But it’s easy to confuse these two feelings when you are 5! And once they are set you barely question them; society gives you no call or space to.

I didn’t know there was any other option to the fairytale ending of when boy meets girl, that was and mostly remains, ever present in our society. Until I watched Ellen coming out when I was 15. Channel 4 made it a big Friday night special – they celebrated. In 1997. At peak Friday night TV mania! I’ve never had an opportunity to say thank you to whoever made that happen (btw a generation of queers salute you) – but thanks to them I started to think about myself and who I was. And although I knew in my little world it would be hard – I had this possibility that in the big world I would join there were ways I could be me and maybe even celebrated.

I came out at university. I was 20 years old. I was practically the only gay in the village. It was 2003…

I have continued and evolved to at least try to be authentically me. What that means changes. The recent explosion (or at least it seems to me) of gender fluidity is another expansion of who you can be. And another moment for me to reflect. Who knows what that means for me yet because now I’m older there are more layers to peel back.

But the culmination of it all is where I am now. And I have a job I love, amazing supportive friends, a wonderful family – one I was born into, and one I made. The later of which includes my two beautiful little boys, who warm my world.

I’m an unconventional traditionalist. Or at least I am for now.

Bisexual

I knew that I was bisexual when I was in 10 grade and decided not lie to myself anymore because this is who I am and I don’t want to suppress myself. First I came out to my oldest brother it was funny because he didn’t care much he just wanted me to be happy. Next I told my religious mother she is a catholic. I came out to her right after I told her I was molested didn’t really matter it did it really matter after she expressed her dislike for the LGBTQ+ community, but nonetheless she loved me for who I was. She told me “you are my daughter and I will love you no matter what” so that really upped my spirit. I have not come out to my dad but I plan on it being soon I trust for him not get mad because he once asked me if I had a boyfriend yet then right after asked what about a girlfriend. I felt relieved when he had said that. It made me feel loved. And when I am ready and not afraid I will come out to everyone else my friends and family.

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