Community Rainbow Waves

Midori Mori

Growing up, I didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that I was different. I never needed words like Tomboy, gay, or Freaky Freshman Asian to know that I didn’t belong in a crowd of one million. But people would always feel the need to remind me of this everyday. Whether it was the moms who would cram their daughters into a bathroom stall if they saw me come in or the adults who would kick me out of locker rooms, all I could assume was that I was disgusting.

Indecent. That was the scent that followed me. A smell so pungent that it would only worsen if one tried to wash it off; A fragrance that’s been rubbed into society since the beginning of time. So I wore a mask called shame made out of lies. The more lies I smeared onto it the harder it was to breathe. Until I met a teacher who asked me to strip away the 40-ton shield I was holding. And even as my hands were shaking she managed to pull off that mask; extinguishing the fear that laid beneath it. Taking in a breath of clean air, I realized that I slowly stopped smelling this indecency and in turn, others did too.

We are told growing up that “different” meant imperfection. Imperfection meant ugly. But I want this to serve as a mirror for those like me who grew up without one. I want people of all identities and backgrounds to read this and understand that it’s okay to stand out, it’s okay if you don’t know where you stand. Because far worse than being oppressed for your differences is knowing that you’ve spent your life pleasing people at the expense of your happiness. Happiness we all deserve.

My Name is Tracy, and I am me

It is only when I look back that things really become clear. For example, it is obvious now why I had a crush on my P.E teacher (but then who didn’t!). But at the time I was just a confused teenager trying to make sense of all that I was feeling. I guess that is the same for everybody when they first become aware of themselves as sexual beings, regardless of their sexuality. I don’t know how old I was, I’m guessing around 15? There was a Lesbian couple living opposite my family home, and I remember asking myself if I was like them, but then thinking that even if I was, I wouldn’t know what to do about it. This was the early 1980s, and things were not socially like they are now.
I left school in 1984 at the age of 17, got a job, and was happy just being me. I had no desire to meet anybody but I was aware that getting a boyfriend was the next thing on the list of things that were expected of me by society. I must add here that no pressure came from my family. So I conformed, and had a couple of boyfriends over the next couple of years. Looking back I actually feel sorry for them, they clearly wanted more than I was willing to give. Subconsciously I would never put myself in a position with them where things could progress physically. To me, they were friends who just happen to be male – end of. That’s why they never stuck around long I’m guessing.
Then in 1987 I started my Nurse training in the NHS. Six months into my course and my path crossed with another student who was to become my first girlfriend. We started out as friends. I knew she was gay, she never hid it. But I still wasn’t out, even to myself. Over time though the penny finally dropped and we got closer and closer. She would go on to say that she was just waiting for me to realise for myself, she apparently knew already.
That was when I started living the double life that will be familiar to a lot of people reading this. Luckily I was living at the hospital in student accommodation. It certainly made it easier, but hiding this part of me from my family didn’t feel right. My girlfriend, even though 7 years older than me, was also not out to her parents, which in a way made it easier for me to take the easy way out and keep my sexuality hidden from everyone but her.
Around the same time, when my world was rapidly changing around me, my sister passed way from Leukaemia. She was 36 years old and had only been ill for a few months before she died. My Father had died a couple years before this, and then for my sister to die….. I don’t know how my Mother and family (I am the youngest of 5 children) got through it, but we did. As for me, I didn’t want to add to the mix by coming out, so I stayed very firmly in. I can’t in all honesty say that had my sister not died I would have come out because I don’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for me to take the easy way out.
Life settled down, and I was happy, but still living a double life. I kind of found it exciting in the beginning, but as I got older, it became tiring. My girlfriend was accepted into my family, as I was into hers, but nothing was ever said. The more time that passed the harder it got to think about coming out. As it turns out, our families had guessed anyway and were happy for us. They were just waiting for us to say something. We didn’t know this at the time however.
In 2000 the unimaginable happened. My Mother passed away. And for me, devastated as I was I knew the time had come, there was no more procrastinating, I had to come out to my brothers and sister. I was 33 years old, and my girlfriend and I had been together for years. Even then, the thing that made my mind up once and for all, was that I wanted my girlfriend to travel in the funeral car with the husband and wives of my siblings. I remember the exact moment. The others were downstairs in my mother’s house and my girlfriend and I were upstairs talking. My sister-in-law then came and joined us. We chatted about other things to start, then I simply said that my girlfriend and I were a couple, and that I wanted her to travel in the family car behind my mother’s coffin.
That was it. I was out. The relief was immense, but mixed with nerves and grief for my mother. All my Sister-in-law said was “Well about damn time” and hugged me, before going back downstairs where she was of course going to tell the others.
A short time later my girlfriend and I also went downstairs. All my family were in the garden, and when I stepped out there to join them I was mobbed. I found myself in the middle of a huge group hug filled with love and reassurance. It was such a surreal time, grief for my mother, together with the relief of coming out and being accepted by my family.
There was only one negative. After the funeral, my sister’s husband came up to me. I had only seen him a couple of times since my sister passed away a few years earlier, and he said something along the lines of “There’s my perverted sister-in-law”. I’m not sure if he was serious or if he thought he was being funny, either way it wasn’t the time or the place, and he was dragged away by one of my brothers and told to go home.
And that is my coming out story.
The relationship I was in then came to an end after just over 17 years together. However, I am now married to an amazing woman, my real soulmate, we’ve been together for 11 years. I sometimes think my family like her more than me.
I am now 53 years old and I only have two regrets in life. The first is that I never allowed my dear Mum to know the real me, because I was scared to come out to her, and the second is that my Wife never met her. Or my Sister. Or my Brother who also died from Leukaemia 14 years ago.
Apart from that, life is wonderful.
Thank you for listening.

Lesbian

Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.

It’s leviOsa not leviosA

I always had doubts about my sexuality and that terrified me, I finally confirmed it at 15, in my class there was a beautiful girl who literally captivated me, months passed in which I kept everything new in my being, until one day I had an attack of courage and I confessed, strangely she felt the same that day was the best and after exits we started a relationship, almost 3 months later my mom that blew up the bomb, they made me go to psychologists several times she could not accept having a daughter like that (Obviously my relationship ended my mom) I was so obsessed that I watched all my female friends, today 4 years have passed although she no longer controls me as before, she thinks it was a stage and that I already passed it, in truth you are an inspiration to I hope one day to have the courage to open my heart to my family and tell them that it was not a stage that is me …….. (sorry but I had to translate it maybe not very good .. atte: an admirer of Lat America)

Love has a short life, there is no limit to oblivion… But that’s the value of love.

Since childhood. But the realization and acceptance of myself came at a more conscious age. Now I’m happy about it. I’ve been living with the person I love for a few years now and the wonderful thing is that for her I was a revelation of her sexuality and an opportunity to realize that the world is not only black and white. I live in Russia, a country that tolerance and understanding of such I am not particularly different, there is still slipping the foundations of the past, and that’s probably a minus, but there are many like me that gradually we change the attitude to us.

Fluid

Im only 15 and I’ve known since I was about 9 or 10. I’ve known for years but I came out to my friends and close family in early 2019. For me it was just noticing little things like in movies I could never keep my eyes of the girl although I found the guy good-looking, I always found myself matching myself with a girl from the movies like ‘what happened if me and her were together’. I was curious, but then I got a crush on a girl in my grade and I knew that well I’m not straight. My parents kind of figured out and they weren’t that surprised. But my brother accidentally outed me to my parents. It was funny. But I thought I was bi but it changes all the time so I decided to stick to fluid cause I don’t need a label. I love who I want to love. I don’t really care what you are x

Lesbian/Gay

I never did have an eureka moment. That, my god, I think I like girls moment. It always just felt somehow innate, a part of me somehow. A part of me I should always without question hide. As a young adult I thought to myself “ Yes, your gay, but you can never act on it”.

I remember being a very young child. I was looking at a performing arts troupe and I was transfixed at one of the performers. It wasn’t an attraction, I was too young, but I felt like I was in a trance , drawn to her female energy.

And so it was, I knew I was Lesbian but I lived in rural Ireland. The mentality as it was at the time -I believed I could never be openly gay. And honestly I was just scared. Too scared to act , not that even if I was brave that there was any place I could go or people I could talk too. No facility’s , no groups , no gay bars. We didn’t even have internet until I was already an adult. TV barely depicted female or gay relationships of any kind. Any show , any song , books, any films that depicted lesbian relationships I clung too. In secret, I clung to this love I didn’t think would I would ever feel for myself.

I was always a Tomboy , playing with the boys , wanting the boys toys. In adolescence when I was teased with “ Your such a Tomboy “ “ Why don’t you like girlie things ” I began to consider myself somehow wrong. I needed to be more girly to be accepted.
And so as a teenager, I dressed more like a typical girl of my age , faked interest in school boy crushes and ultimately completely lost myself in the process. I was such a outgoing confident child, in my adolescence I found myself quieter, more shy, confused and I felt very much alone. I carried this fear that I would be found out – as if that could be the worst thing that could ever happen. Because at the time, I though it was.

When I was 17 and like some teenage film cliche I fell completely and utterly In love with the German exchange student and we were inseparable for 6 months. She even asked me to kiss her once but I didn’t.

I always suffered from sore throats from childhood into adulthood. One day I was in an angel shop and somehow got talking about this with the lady who ran it. She said to me “ You are not speaking your truth “ and that stuck with me. The sore throats continued for a long time.

I went to college. I remember the day the clubs lined the corridor looking for new member. I waked by the LGBT table, afraid that people would see my eyes dart towards it.

I went out with friends. I kissed boys. I hoped it would one day feel different. That it might click. It never did. I even went on a few dates. Boys even fell for me – hard but I couldn’t explain why I didn’t feel the same.

In Ireland the first question from aunts and uncles mouths are usually “ Any boyfriend !?”
Followed by “Why doesn’t a pretty girl like you not have a boyfriend” It was tiring and I felt embarrassed.

I was 21 when I graduated with an honors degree in law but a superior degree in self denial.

One of my classmates and I went out one night in our final year. That night- she went home with a girl. She came into class the next morning in the clothes we had went out in the night before. Without words she asked me to keep her secret and I did. Finally, someone who might know how I felt someone I could talk too. We went to our first gay bar together and there in the middle of the dance floor for the first time in my life I said “ I’m gay “.

I had kissed girls , friends , straight friends drunk on dance floors, maybe for boys benefit but it wasn’t until the summer after I graduated in 2010 that I kissed the first girl who wanted to kiss me back in an abandoned classroom of the college I had just left. I thought my heart might beat out of my body. She became my first girlfriend and what ensued for the next 2 years was a double life , my ‘ straight acting ‘ life at home and my life with her and my small few gay friends I had gathered. I couldn’t explain to friends /family why I had to keep inexplicable leaving to see this person. I was stressed but in love. In love but oh so naive. She broke my heart and I was crushed. My family wondered why I lost so much weight. Why i seemed so sad.Convinced I had developed some eating disorder. In a moment of heartbreak I told my sister. She was kind but warned me to never tell our Mother.

Through the majority of my 20s i had a few different relationships , but never disclosed that to my parents. They only knew some of me , I had to omit so much of my life , the best parts of my life because it was my love. I left out my happiness. We spoke about surface matters and it became apparent that , that was ok. My father was kind and loving and I never felt it would be an issue but I couldn’t tell one without the other ( I suspect he knew) that my sisters had filled him in. He made efforts to show me he loved me. My mother had once told me “ Never tell me your Gay Anita, don’t ever tell me that . I couldn’t take it” and so I didn’t.

I use to feel uncomfortable at home hoping certain questions wouldn’t come up. I loved my partners , I loved being myself and I could because I didn’t live at home so when I went home a lot of the time I felt repressed , like I was in hiding. Just awaiting a time I could leave and embrace myself again. For a long time I was a stranger to them. I was scared to come out. I honestly thought that my Mother would just preferred for me not to do it. And so that’s what I did for a long time. I came out to friends along the way which explained some things to them. All were kind.

Very slowly my two worlds, my two lives grew together, along with my own growth, my own comfortableness with myself , my self love ignited.

In 2015 Marriage Equality was passed in Ireland and I took to the streets. I saw the glee and the love and I smiled. I attended the Marches and now the celebrations and it had all come full circle. I felt ashamed of the parts of me I still kept hidden away.

In the end I never had that sit down conversation with my parents where I said ‘ I’m gay’- it just naturally transitioned.

Some things I wanted in my life I wrote down on a piece of paper and put it in my wallet, a to do list. The thing I wanted the most was “ a love that even time would lie down and be still for “ I wished for it , every eyelash , every birthday candle blow out. On my list I wrote “ Find a love that makes your heart sing “.

I had loved , experienced great times , great experiences and adventures but always something felt missing.

I have found that love that makes my heart sing , it makes everything sing. My Dad passed away in November 2018 and I’m glad he got to meet her. I know he could tell I was happy. His passing also helped me grow , to solidify that I could never think of hiding that love. When I brought her home , the love was palpable and for the first time any walls that were still up or any withholding between me and my family seems to fall away without words.

I was guilty of being private with my life but we have all let each other in, in a way we never have before and it can only grow from here. Having experience the grief of my Dads death I feel silly for hiding so much of myself from him for so long – a regret of sorts but with every goodbye we learn. I’m happy to be where I am now , happy in my own skin and so very in love with my soul mate. 32 years old and being my authentic self. It took love , grief and growth to get here. The journey is different for everyone. Happy travels.

I am just me

I knew I was part of the community when I was 14 (I am 20now). I didn’t want to accept it because I didn’t want it. I was not surrounded by “people like that”, my friend with who I was passing my day was very close minded (not a friend anymore), my mom homophobic well was not good.
When I was 16 my friends ask me if I ever questioned my sexuality and with that question I felt in danger and said “no never why you ask?”
But the problem was in that group of friend I got a crush like I have never have on a girl. That was problematic…
I learn after that she was bi, and that the girls were fine with it.
The year after I drank too much at a party, told people that I was a lesbian …
I didn’t feel great after that I cried a lot whereas my friends were telling me it was great and that if they were lesbian they would want to date me.
Then I told my 2 bestest friends, they weren’t surprise at all, they said “well yes Lea obviously I knew it”
When they said that I felt In danger cause I was beginning to tell the people I felt comfortable, but was scared to be judge by others, and I didn’t want the people to know. I was wondering if somebody look at me if they would know.
High school was not great, didn’t feel right, I was not at my place, even if sometimes I was with the girl I had crushes on, and fatally fell in love with… even if we never had a relationship it has always been weird between us and still is a bit
This summer I dated a girl, I had to tell my mom….
Right after a surgery I told her, and she had the worst answer… she said nothing
She don’t like that, she is not ready to accept it.
I must not tell the family cause “it’s wrong they will judge” blabla
(Close minded family, thanks for my dad he is “only racist” (lol) but accept my sexuality)
At the university I m leaving great I feel good new people, nobody to judge we are way too many for the attention to be on me
Maybe I look at girls waaaaaay more that I look at boy maybe I m bi, maybe I am pan, maybe I am lesbian and don’t know I don’t want to know. It is not necessary for my well being all I know is that I am me and nobody is going to change that.
Thank you for reading that
Sending a Frenchy love

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.

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