Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian Military Boss Babe

I knew I was different from about 9 or 10 but I knew I was gay when my teacher in 8th grade, giving a talk about sexuality, gave all the girls a survey to ask, “on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you desire a boyfriend?”. It was an odd question but it was anonymous so I answered truthfully. He then collected the papers and read out the numbers aloud “8, 10, 9, 2! Two??? Wow.” The class laughed…I was mortified. I spent the next 20 years hiding this truth from myself and everyone around me.

In order to keep up pretenses I slept around and dated every guy I could but I never felt love. It always felt like friends with benefits. I joined the military at 26 during Dont Ask Dont Tell and after I started dating women, in secret, I still did my duty at work but that law kept me from feeling connected to my fellow troops. I couldn’t share my dreams or hopes or loves. I couldn’t talk about my weekend trips without dancing around pronouns or lying altogether. I lied to myself, my family, my friends…i felt like a fake. I was externally happy-go-lucky and adventurous but inside…I felt alone. Empty.

At 30 yrs old, I finally stuck with one girlfriend longer than a few months and we moved in together. I couldn’t keep lying and I wanted to free myself of the burden I had felt most of my life. It was time to be honest. I was a grown-ass woman; brave in every other area of my life except this one. No more lies.

I knew my biggest rejection would come from my religious family so I went big and started with my parents; if I could tell them, I could tell anyone. I knew that the moment I said it out loud I would lose them forever but I could no longer live for others; it was time to be authentically me. My parents and I got into a car to head to the beach and on the way home I told them I had to tell them something big. They saw my face turn white, my voice began to shake, tears started to fall. They said, “Mija…whats wrong? What is it?”. I said that I was gay. I knew I was attracted to women and I was tired of living a lie. I then commenced to crying even harder. My father spoke up, “Lisa, you are my daughter…you are the same person you were 5 minutes ago, nothing has changed. I love you. I will always love you.”. My strict religious father surprised me with LOVE. My mother took it harder but she came around over time.

I’m 44 now. I’m happy, healthy, and OUT to ALL . In the military I have to still be careful who I let into my circle but those who know me, accept all of me. I am finally allowed to serve and feel connected to my team. I am absolutely unafraid to live and love. It feels so good to say that. I lost some homophobic friends and family members along the way but you find that when the lies are gone you are able to have closer bonds with those who truly love you. It was worth it.

Sending love and amazing vibes to all my fellow LGBTQ+ family. May you all be free to explore your path and live devoid of any shame that stifles your happiness.

I am bisexual

Well in 2018 when school ended I went to camp. While I was there I created new friendships. I learned from them about all different sexualities. I had only know of gay and lesbian. When I realized there was a way to like everyone or even just a boy and girl I felt different. I felt like a piece of my had changed in that moment. Then some of my friends were either lesbian or bisexual. I felt I had to do the same. I ended up saying I was bi. I didn’t actually know if i was but then I had done a lot of thinking what if I actually was. I got scared because I knew my sister would support but what about my parents.
My parents are very accepting but I still didn’t know. My dad though I didn’t know and got really scared, I had been watching riverdale and Choni came up my dad had walked past and said “what is this” I didn’t really think about it at first. Then while thinking I thought what if he doesn’t support. My mind went crazy. I was 10 at the time and didn’t know what to do. I love my parents dearly because without them I wouldnt be here. Because they took me in when I was just a tiny baby. I have always had support from them, but I was always scared to tell them anything. So when this came about I got scared. But I’ve learned i have to open up sometimes.
Well turns out I was truly bisexual. I ended up watching a lot of videos making sure. The videos made me more open minded and that there are other people out there struggling. Then I came across Wayhaught through the videos. I automatically fell in love with them. I realised that this is truly who I am and that I shouldn’t care about what people think. Then 6th grade happened.
That year was probably the worst. I had told people who I thought I could trust. Turns out I couldn’t, they had told the whole class that I was Lesbian even tho I was bi. I was terrified through that month because I didn’t know what they were thinking. I had been so confident that year after telling people. But when that happened I broke. I ended up feeling like trash. And i didn’t know how to handle it. Then that was when. I found my love for edits. They had helped a lot. Most of them were gay ships from tv shows or YouTube. The one that helped me most was Wayhaught. The edits of them made me feel better. Then the summer came around and I got Netflix. Finally I could watch Wynonna Earp!! The first time I watched it was for Wayhaught but then I actually fell in love with the show.
I felt loved more. During the summer me and my friend had become really close we were both able to talk about girls together. The summer made me feel wanted again and that I shouldn’t care if someone doesn’t accept me. When I went back to school this year for 7th I will admit I was a little scared but i had come with a plan. I didn’t even use it though. I chickened out and just said it was a rumor and that it was all a lie just because I got scared. Now I am still in 7th but I am more confident than ever. Yes it took a long while and it ended with really bad anxiety it was worth it knowing I am worth it.
I had accomplished one thing, I had come out to my sister!! Even tho I wanted to wait a little longer the universe had plans.
I have just finished rewatching Wynonna Earp for maybe the hundredth time lol. But now I am more confident to write this and declare my sexuality. Even tho it was a tough ride and it’s still not over I am here to say I AM OUT AND PROUD!! I deserve to be myself and not letting anyone’s opinions get I my way.

Still Coming Out After All These Years

I first came out fifteen years ago, when I told my best friend about a crush that was stirring up an epic inner turmoil in the way that only teenage drama can.

A year later, I told my parents that I liked girls, staring fixedly at my shoes and wishing I could disappear. Both of those memories are still so vivid, because although I received compassion and understanding in response, I felt like my whole world was turning upside down. I thought I’d changed my life forever in a single moment. I also thought that was the end of it- I was out. Spoiler alert: that wasn’t the end of it.

I have been coming out for more than half my life now. I start a new job and give my partner’s name as my emergency contact, and I come out. A new friend asks what kind of guys I like and I respond with full honesty, and I come out. Someone spots my engagement ring, we talk about wedding plans, and I come out.

I have experienced every kind of response- confusion, awkwardness, curiosity, anger, delight. It never stops, but it gets easier every time because I know I have community and I know that there is nothing wrong with me. I am proud of who I am and even prouder to be part of the LGBTQ2IA+ family. My fellow queers have taught me so much about love, identity, selflessness and courage, and every time I come out I remember that, and I count myself lucky.

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.

Lesbian

When I was fourteen I came out to my mother after I’ve been pretty sure that I was gay for a year or so. But she reacted the total opposite way of what I was expecting… saying that “it’s just a phase and I was too young to know stuff like this, I just haven’t met the right boy yet.” And that I was “lucky she wasn’t goint to tell my father about it.” Skipping to 2019, as I finally had the guts to institutionolize myself into a psychiatry after almost ten years of major mental health issues, I tried to be brave once again and come out to my mother. She apologized for the way she reacted back then and fully supports me in every desicion I make in my new out and proud life. It’s partly thanks to you, Dominique, and all the other actors who represented the queer community during this tough period of my life, that I am still alive today and grateful for every day I have on this earth. <3

Theresa

Well i guess i could say i knew i liked girls when i was 15 years old in school. Everyone had boyfriends and i wasn’t interested in boys, but i had a massive crush on a girl in my class. And i knew then it made me different from everyone else in my school so i tried to ignore it and forget about it.

I did that for the rest of my school years, while everyone in my classes were hanging out with there boyfriends and girlfriends i decided i would stay at home or the library and do my school work as i was too afraid if i spent too much time with them they would see that i was different.

I buried these feelings deep inside me for many years. I went through college just concentrating on my courses. I still made friends but no one ever questioned why i didn’t have a boyfriend or want one.

When i was 20 i made some new friends and started going out to bars drinking and ended up in a gay bar with an openly gay male friend of mine who at the time didn’t know about my feelings for women.
But eventually after a few nights out i met someone. She was so confident and so sure of who she was and what she wanted and i just remember feeling that i wish i could be brave like her and admit i was attracted to women.
And eventually i was brave and we dated for a few months secretly without telling my family or friends.

Then one day many months after i decided it was time to tell my family what i was going through as it was eating me up inside and i hated that feeling more than the fear of them rejecting me.
My sister was the first person i told and she told me she already knew but she was waiting for me to tell her.
Telling my parents was a lot harder. I was so scared to tell my mum, she always dreamed of me getting married to a man and having kids. And i feared that telling her this her dreams would be shattered and she wouldn’t understand.
So i sat my parents down in their front room and i told them i had something to tell them but for some reason the words didn’t come out and i froze and just broke down crying with fear they would hate me.
So my mum told me it was okay, that if i needed to say something maybe i could write it down on a bit of paper for her if i couldn’t find the words. So i did i wrote down ‘i am gay’. And then i ran out of the house.
Eventually i came back to the house to see my mum and she hugged me and told me it was okay and she wasn’t disappointed and she loved me for who i am and that it didn’t matter if i liked men or women.

I felt such a huge relief that day as i could finally be the person i always was but i also felt scared as that was the first time i truly admitted to myself i was gay. And it made me have this overwhelming feeling of loneliness. I lived in a small town and back then there wasn’t many other lgbt+ people around and i didn’t want to be alone.
And for a while i was but then i eventually met some people like me and people who accepted me for who i was and it was the best feeling. And some of those people are still with me now more than 15 years later and i am so grateful for them every day even if i don’t see them much.

So thats how i came out sorry it is so long.
The thing is now many years later if someone was to ask me my sexuality i am not sure i could put myself in one of those boxes.
Yeah maybe some people would say i am a lesbian as i have only ever had female partners. And when i was younger i would of put myself in that box too, but now i don’t feel thats who i am. Yes i am mostly attracted to women but i feel i am also open to love in any shape or form that may take.
I turned 40 this year and one thing i realised over the years is this saying is so true that ‘it really doesn’t matter who we love it only matters that we love’.
And thats me i am just open to love

Sam

I knew I was a lesbian in high school but I was too afraid to come out. Growing up, my family never talked about the LGBTQ+ community so I had no idea what I was feeling. Making friends that are apart of this amazing community helped me figure out my story. I came out at 20, no idea how my family would react so I was scared. Luckily, they accepted me and I will always be grateful for that. Now, at 27, I’m still figuring things out as I get older but I’m truly happy and proud to be who I am. I want anyone reading this to know, it gets better. Be who you are and strut your stuff! Sometimes chosen family is the best kind! Thanks for reading!

Lesbian

I first knew I wasn’t the ‘same’ as everyone else when at the ripe age of 5 I asked my mum if she had ever gone out with girls as well as boys. She said no and I was slightly confused because I knew as a girl I should be attracted to boys but I wasn’t. I first came out to friends as bisexual at 12 and most of them didn’t mind but I faced a lot of weird comments and lost a lot of friends as I came from a very small area of Scotland that’s full of close minded individuals. I was dating a boy at 13 and we went out for almost a year and a half. I also told him that I was bisexual and he didn’t care at first. But he started to take advantage of this fact and told me that if I wanted I could experiment with girls only if he could join in etc etc, it was unhealthy. I left the relationship but have met more people like him that when they hear I’m LGBT+ instantly become creepy, try to take advantage, think they are able to say vulgar things and verbally abuse you when you turn down sexual advances, a real issue not many people speak about in the community. It was only a little under a year ago I came to the realisation I wasn’t at all bisexual and rather was in fact lesbian. Having to re-come out to people I’d already told I was bisexual was an odd experience, gladly no one bat an eye and everything’s been normal. I’ve not yet come out to family as I’m unsure of their perspectives and in the house I’m living in don’t feel safe to do so yet. I have moved out (although am back home due to lockdown and covid-19) and am currently attending university in a different region, everyone I’ve met I have been confident enough to tell them who I am and that I like girls and everyone’s been supportive. Coming to terms with who I am has been and will be a journey that I am constantly learning from. From having no representation ahead of me on TV, or knowing anyone who was part of the LGBT+ community for almost 16-17 years of my life was lonely and isolating. Today I’m surrounded by people who are just like me and support me, I’ve found representation in the media and I’ve learned to love and accept myself. The next chapter of this part of my life is hoping my family will do the same.

Human – but also very much gay

I have had a very fortunate journey unlike many of my LGBTQ+ brothers/sisters/non-binary folk. I became aware of my interest in the same sex from a young age. I specifically remember when I was in elementary school around age six or seven having crushes on my female classmates. At this time, I was unaware that many people across the world thought it was “morally” wrong to love members of the same sex in a romantic way. It wasn’t until one evening (when I was still in elementary school) that I was taking a shower and my mother came in unannounced. She was holding my diary. The very same diary that I expressed my feelings of attraction towards other girls. I don’t remember the exact conversation but I do remember that it made me feel like I needed to safeguard my emotions and keep what I was experiencing a secret, even from my family.

Fast forward to when I started middle school (around age 10-11 in the United States). I got my first “official” girlfriend who was on my club soccer team. I use quotations solely because we were very young & unexperienced and didn’t tell anyone about our relationship. Eventually, during this relationship, I wanted to tell my mom that I liked girls. I panicked but still managed to muster up the courage to send her a text message (classic, I know) while I was at school. I said something along the lines of “I have a crush on …, I don’t want you to be mad and I’m sorry”. I did it. I sent the message. I wasn’t worried about an immediate response because she is a teacher and wouldn’t be looking at her phone until the end of the day. Though, when it was time for me to ride the bus home and confront her, I was terrified. I got home before she did and pretended to be asleep to avoid the dreadful conversation that was ultimately inevitable. When we were finally face to face, I remember trying so hard to keep my emotions neutral but began bawling my eyes out. Her reaction wasn’t as I had hoped. Again, I don’t remember the whole conversation, but I do remember one thing that she said – “I don’t understand, I have friends that are girls and I have never felt this way”. That comment filled me with loneliness. Now, I have always had the “I simply don’t give a fuck” attitude and exterior, but that conversation broke me.

A few years later in high school (age 14-15), I had a different girlfriend who I believe I was in love with that was also on my soccer team. There was one evening my club had a meeting about future events that my mom drove me to. As we were pulling out of the parking lot to go home, my mom asked me a very simple question. She said “are you in a relationship with …? I can see the way you feel by the way you look at her”. It was then that I decided I was not going to lie about it anymore. I said yes and the whole 30-minute drive home, my mother cried in front of me as I sat quietly.

This whole time I think I have talked about my mother in a negative light, but I don’t want to portray her as someone who doesn’t support me. Currently, I am 23 and we have an amazing relationship in which she loves me unconditionally. The way she reacted while I was in elementary, middle, and high school wasn’t ideal, but it was a process for her just as much as me, and I grew to understand that throughout my childhood and adolescence. Mainly she was scared for me knowing about how people treat others once they discover they are a member of the LGBTQ+ community, she has always wanted to guarantee my safety.

I recognize that some people don’t care for my story and that’s okay, but I thought I would put it out there for reassurance for anyone who might need or want it. Unfortunately, not all stories end like mine. A lot of parents don’t understand or refuse to understand, causing an unmeasurable amount of pain, sorrow, distrust, etc. that never goes away for that individual. I want it to be known that it won’t always feel that way. One day you will be able to leave if you decide to. With that, there is a community that will always love you and let you know that your feelings and experiences are valid. You are loved and worthy.

Another topic I would like to speak on is mental health. (I know when will this bitch end omggggg). For my first year of college, I moved away and lived in a house with my friends. It was a truly remarkable experience that I love and cherish – but it is also a place where I experienced my first horrible panic attack. Note, I was very naïve back then and didn’t know what a panic attack was before that. It has been roughly five years since it happened and I still struggle with anxiety almost daily. It is okay to ask for help, it actually takes massive metaphorical balls to do so. Please know that you are strong. You are important. You and your story matters. Thank you.

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