Community Rainbow Waves

No More Pretending

Funnily enough, when I was about 6 I told my sister that I was gonna grow up to be a lesbian. It was naturally laughed at by her and the rest of my family. Fast forward, looking back at high school, my friendships were all close with my female friends, particularly touchy, and I would occasionally be jealous of their relationships (even when in my own). I played it off though, just me being a needy friend. When I got to college, everything changed. I met out queer people, one of which was my roommate and one of my favorite people on this earth. She introduced me to media and the community (and funnily enough, Wynonna Earp nearly a year ago now). And it was like my entire world opened up, and I realized I was bi. And that was crazy to me, how I had been missing this huge part of myself. How everything finally clicked into place.

I was opened to the community and all of the beautiful people in it. And I finally put myself out there. I was out to everyone at school, and nearly all my friends at home as well. But it took me even longer to come out to my family. I told my brother first, his response (and my favorite by far) was “Well, I also love women so we have even more in common now.” Coming out to my mom and sister was harder. It was immediately met with “Are you sure?” “Don’t label yourself.” “I thought I liked women at one point too.” and many other cliche lines that I never thought I would actually be hearing. Eventually, my sister came around, and even my mom to an extent. They both support me and love me, and that is something I am very grateful for. However, my coming out was met with a “But play it straight around your father.”

And finally, after coming out to them, I started dating my first girlfriend, and I was absolutely in love with her. But it also led to probably one of the worst experiences in my life. While planning a trip home to see her, my mom decided that after months of telling me to “play it straight” that she would take it upon herself to tell my dad about my sexuality. Only 5 days after I had left for my third year of college. Which led to the absolute worst phone call of my life with a very angry father and some of the most hurtful words I had ever had spoken to me, with the phrase “You’re not gay.” Yelled over and over.

The sarcastic person in me so badly wanted to reply, “You’re right, I’m not gay. I’m bisexual.” But I don’t think I could’ve landed it with confidence over the way I was feeling in that moment.

Eventually, the relationship ended, and me and the girl went our separate ways. The response from my father being “Thank god that’s over”, while I was experiencing heartbreak for the first time. Luckily, by that point, my mom had learned a lot and was there to have my back and reaffirm that I am who I am, regardless of my relationship status.

And now, nearly a year and a half later, I am proudly out to anyone and everyone in my life. Whether they accept me or not, I have no care in the world. I love men and women and I decided that I wasn’t going to hide it for a second longer than I already had. I am proud to be bisexual and a part of this incredible queer community. I love you all. #OutIsTheNewIn

THE WAY TO YOURSELF BEGINS WITH LOVE

Love for a woman is the most beautiful thing that happened in my life.

I’ve always been a weird kid who wasn’t interested in relationships. I didn’t like boys and I didn’t like girls. I was fascinated by my inner world and the mysteries that fill my life. But I confess: “All my life I have been looking for a friend with whom I would like to share my discoveries.”

At the age of 16, I went to another school and met a girl. It seemed to us that we were once very close, which amazed us. One accident helped me become aware of my feelings. Unfortunately, they were not reciprocal. I was able to suppress these feelings in order to move on.

From the very beginning it seemed so natural to me. The only reason I tested myself for a long time, trying to be normal, is our legislation. Most likely, I will never have a full-fledged family … But it is easier to accept this than to pretend all my life.

None of my relatives know about this. I don’t want to lose my only family. And I don’t want to hurt them. But with close friends, I am absolutely frank. This gives freedom to me and to them. Very soon I fell unrequitedly in love again, but chose a new path.

Once a persone I loved said: “Unconditional love is possible only for God.” And I smiled …

I think that to love a person whom you don’t hear, don’t see, don’t know whether he is smiling now or sadness fills his heart … and even more so you don’t have the opportunity to be near, to bare yourself in front of him … This is the same as to love God.

After all, all you know is that he Is. And at some point it becomes enough for you.

My soul has always resisted the understanding of Love as an internal state. After all, I was sure that love is, first of all, a manifestation … without which any important words lose all value. And these feelings (be it inspiration or immense emptiness) without action are most likely nothing more than a need for acceptance and recognition. Since you feel so important because of the other. And this is actually enough for many people.

But when you Love, one state seems so little. There is a growing feeling of overcrowding. It’s like a cup inside you, which will soon overflow … Or a growing tree, directed upward, which is blocked by a stone roof, not allowing it to become even larger and more powerful.

Subsequently, a moment comes when you lose the meaning of life… It’s scary, hard, and aimless.

Every day the same question: “Why? What is the meaning of everything that happens to you, what is born in you, changes you, inspires you, but also throws you against a concrete wall? ” Even if you do not even have the right to say “I love you” … In any case, in the sense that is genuine.

But you don’t want to get rid of it…

It’s so easy to erase someone from your heart, stifle it in yourself and move on, continuing your search. But only weak people do this. This is the path of those who expect love from others but don’t love others. You know … When you do not want to give up on anyone, consciously dooming yourself to loneliness, the appearance of that very only person gradually dissolves. His figure slowly disappears, but the feeling remains with you.

Now I look into the eyes and find God in them, I see a blurry silhouette, behind which the whole world is.

I was finally able to feel that everything in the world exists as a whole. One soul that knew nothing but chaos until it incarnated in the material world. That is why when you meet a person who seems similar, understandable and so familiar to you, you get the feeling that you have returned home.
It always seemed to me that to be spiritual means to be in such a state of consciousness in which you identify yourself with everything living and nonliving that exists in this world or another.

Now I also identify the people I love with the Universe. They are an integral part of it, just like me. This means that we are all small parts of each other.
This gives so many opportunities for my Love that I have not found before. And if I want to show my feelings, I can do it at any moment, under any circumstances, and wherever I am. Then the world, albeit imperceptibly, will change.

In this moment, I realize that I love life like I never did before. And I so want to know her. Since life itself is Love. Now I listen to music differently, I read books differently, my fingers touch the strings of the guitar in a new way, my arms hug my relatives differently, and my eyes look at the stars in a different way.

These feelings are so pleasant. Something warm and bright shines inside me.

The body seems light, and complex things seem surprisingly simple.

It’s incredible how beautiful everything around me is, and it deserves the greatest love.

So one person becomes the whole world.

I will go my own way and sow seeds, in the expectation that the most beautiful buds will bloom in those places someday. And you will feel their wonderful scent, or you will even be able to enjoy the dazzling colors and amazing shapes.

And I still believe that I will be lucky enough to meet someone who is as in love with life as I am to love it together.

After all, when I am gone, the world will continue to exist. And I want that in this world there would be more Life!

Gay (lesbian)

By pure chance I came across some videos on YouTube that brought me to Dominique’s profile and read this incredible post. Everything I have read has inspired me, I have felt identified and has made me wonder about so many things in my life.

I am 28 years old and since I was 12 or 14 years old I was attracted to women, men only saw them as friends, despite feeling all this I only dated men.

At the age of 22 I decided to stop and accept myself, accept that it was impossible for me to have sex with men and I did not see myself with any of them. I sat down with my best friends and told everything I had hidden until that day, it should be noted that my best friends are gay and I was still afraid. My friends understood.

Today with 28 years, I still feel that I am afraid to talk about it with other people, even my family does not know it, this has brought me problems of having a relationship as I would really like to have it. I am patient with myself and with the stages of my life.

This post has made me think and reevaluate my values, my passions, my whole life, rethink what I want and it has let me know that I have neglected a part of me that feels imprisoned. I want to be happy.

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

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.

A tomboy

I’m a 25 yrs old lesbian, At the age of 17 I have a crush on this girl at that time I didn’t know I like girls, I was very afraid of this new feeling I felt at that time, this girl and I were friends and I thought was just friendship that I felt, so I looked up the internet for answers, turns out I was gay, but I’m not embarrassed surprisingly, somewhere deep inside my heart I knew I liked girls but was surpressing it unknowningly, some of my friend knows , some don’t, my parents sure didn’t, but I hope someday I can freely come out and be myself, love who I love and free of the burden, I hope that one day I can come out to the world and proudly say I’m a lesbian, and to all who is reading this, don’t give up on yourself hang in there and be positive in life, I know I will.

Here and queer 😉

At twelve I moved from primary to secondary school…to an all girls school the first few years were great, we were all pretty immature still, still played ‘tag’/’it’ in the playground. But then we started maturing and I found myself falling into the shadows. We’d all read the same books, watch the same films and tv shows then discuss like any normal teenage friendship group but while they’d gossip about how hot the main character was- Damon from ‘the vampire diaries’ for example or Theo James as Four in ‘divergent’, I couldn’t deny that these guys were attractive but I couldn’t understand why my friends were SO obsessed with them to the point where I thought they’d see me as different if I didn’t reciprocate the same thoughts. So I pretended. When in reality I had a huge crush on Tris (divergent) or Bonnie (tbf), or Lena (beautiful creatures) but that’s only in hindsight. Of course I wouldn’t admit to myself these feelings because surely they were wrong. There were ‘out’ people in my school but I saw the way they got treated how the ‘f’ slur got thrown at them like they were nothing. And I wasn’t prepared for that. A few years later…at 16, I moved to a different school for sixth form whose community was so accepting. In fact the head teacher was a lesbian and had kids and a family of her own…the first ‘real’ queer representation I’d seen. Slowly I started to come out to people, first to my closest friend who is gay, we’ve belonged to the same theatre group for years- I’d listen to him week after week telling me about the bullies at his school who’d bully him for the fact that he is gay. Through theatre we found acceptance… anyway, back to coming out..:so I slowly started to come out to people at school and no one had a bad reaction….I said I liked girls, I didn’t want a label but I knew that to come out to my parents they’d want one, so I wrote them a note in rainbow colours saying I had a date with a girl and I was indeed a ‘homosexual’ (I was 17 at this point), I handed them the note and ran upstairs into the shower so I didn’t have to face them…they took it very well and said they loved me no matter what..:the term ‘queer’ didn’t make an appearance into my dictionary until a few months later and I wish I’d used that…but with time I hope that coming out won’t have to be a thing, that people can just be who they want to be and love who they want without it being a huge question or debate!
So yes, that’s my story…nearly a year on from coming out and people have been accepting on the whole 🙂

Be Brave

Growing up in an academic focused, traditional Asian family, my ‘path’ had always felt like it was mapped out for me. I knew who I was suppose to be the minute I knew how to walk. I was a pretty sheltered child and didn’t even know what the term “gay” meant, let alone understanding it. Moving to San Francisco for college was the first real introduction I had to the LGBTQ+ community. Once learning more about the community and understanding my thoughts and feelings, my whole life made so much more sense. I understood why I was so angry at my best friend in high school for hanging out with her boyfriend instead of me. I understood why I go out my way to make certain girls happy. I finally understood why and that scared me. I was different.

I first came out to my college friends as bisexual because I felt like it was easier for them to understand and accept. I wasn’t honest with myself even then. I’m very thankful that I had a group of friends that were very open minded and supportive. Living in SF at the time didn’t hurt either. I eventually came out as a lesbian to my best friend, crying my eyes out because I was finally allowing myself to admit it. Life at that point was good and I was embracing myself and experiencing this new me. But I soon realize I was living a double life. When I’m home I become someone else. I was out to everyone but my immediate family. I stumbled out of the closet to my mom when I was 21 and she kicked me out of the house, claiming that I was disgusting. She was my hero. I thought she going to understand. She didn’t and it broke my heart. I lived most of my life trying to make her proud and I failed her because I was being me.

I went through some of the darkest times of my life then as I was done with this life and it’s disappointments. I wanted a different kind of out. I try to end it all but I survived and that was my true awakening. I started on a whole new journey in finding myself and to be my most authentic self. During this journey I found the love of my life, a smart and beautiful woman who I asked to marry me. Now that I’m older, I decided to give the conversation with my mother another chance. So last Christmas, I came out again to my mom and asked if she would be at my wedding. Her answer was no. It hurts. It’ll always hurt but I came to the realization that I’m not going to sacrifice my happiness for anyone anymore. At the end of the day, I have to be able to live with myself and the person I’m becoming. I’ve learned to be brave and face what’s coming my way with kindness and compassion. Not everyone will understand my truth just like I might not understand theirs. We as human just need to help each other learn the different truths. Hopefully one day, my mom will understand mine.

But I’m now 31 and I’m the happiest and most free I’ve ever been.
Took 10 years but I’m queer, I’m here and that’s MY truth.

Much love, always.
Sandy

Nat. W.

I was 15. Had a “boyfriend” but was more attracted to his best friend who was a girl. As she and I got closer, my family began to notice. My aunt duringblack friday shopping, asked me if I were gay. Having only the knowledge of just gay and lesbian, and what it meant, I replied..”I think so” I was also very afraid to speak of anything more because she was very into bible verses and Church Sundays. My parents would ask questions about her and I would tell them truthfully. But my father had a huge problem. He would forbid me from hanging around with her, going places with her, and just speaking of her. She had a beautiful smile, a smile.which would brighten my day in an instant. One day my dad caught us in a small kiss and threw her out of my house. Grounded me and took everything away from me. I couldn’t see or speak with her unless it was at school. We tried to make it work, but as in most relationships, things go wrong. People change. Feelings change. My dad and I had the worse relationship for almost 10 yrs and it caused me so much pain and often thought about just putting an end to all of it…and end to me. For some reason, I never let it happen. I wrote a small screenplay about it in college as I went away just to be on my own for a while. My professor hand picked mine to be read to the class because he got chills when he read it. As I grew into the changing world, I worked on reprogramming my mind and my heart to be able to love me. I worked on finding myself. The moment I said to myself, before you can love anyone, you must love yourself, in came the girl who “whoa-ed” me the second she walked into the building. Not really looking for a serious relationship, it just grew from there and 5 years later I asked her to be my wife. Just last week we celebrated out 4th year being married and i have to tell you….she is the only thing I have ever been sure of. My wife and I are happytogether and she just gets me. I wrote a screenplay just recently on reflecting on my hardships growing up to what I worked hard to just become and how I wish I could tell the kid back on that day where I almost went through with it…that your life is going to be so much better than it is now if you can just be patient….my dad and I have a better relationship than ever. He loves my wife and he treats her like his own. I work with teens who often are discovering themselves just as I was at their age…and I try to be the person I needed when I didnt have anyone….in hopes that the suicide numbers go down….to anyone who needs it….

Be patient. It does get better.

Bisexual

i think i finally actually realised i was bisexual last year but i was into girls many years before that but just thought of it as a phase i guess. i actually once said to a friend of mine in school probably about three years ago that i would “mess around for a year or so and then get married properly with a man, just so i could get it out of my system” and when i think back to that it seems so mad to me that that was my mindset and as the years have gone on i see more of a chance of me starting a family with a woman even though i still haven’t came out to my family. my friends all knew but it wasn’t like a big secret because i thought nothing of it in the beginning so i never kept it from them. i’m 18 this year and i haven’t been in a relationship since i was around 14 which was with a boy. i’m scared to come out to my family because although i know they love me endlessly, there is still something in my mind that holds me back. i wish coming out wasn’t such a big thing and although it should be celebrated i also think it shouldn’t be expected. i would like to come home one day and introduce my girlfriend to my family without anyone thinking anything of it.