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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Androgynous

First, Excuse my english. It’s not my mother’s tongue.

It was a long time ago (the 80’s).
I realized I was lesbian at 16 (and tried to shut it down right away too because evreybody around me was -in the best scenario- mocking homosexuals).

It took me to go to University for a year (five years later) to understand that the desire for girls was too hard to fight and finally accept it.
I reconnected with the best friend I had between 9 and 11. It turns out she was gay too!
I think the first person I told it – few month after I quit Uni- was one of my cousins. I told her that on Sundays, I was going to this “famous” gay nightclub about 1h of road from our hometown and that the reason was because it felt home to me. Because I prefer girls.. She didn’t care AT ALL. 🙂 Her first words? ” I’m not surprised. Do you have a girlfriend?”…
Then, a short time after, I told it to the highschool friend I’ve been in Uni with and the 2 others girls we befriended there. I said: “Humm.., guys? I have to tell you something… Well, I’ve been in this gay nightclub a lot lately and…I have a flirt…..with a girl… And I’m gay”. No problem with them neither.
Basically, they said: “It’s your life, you do what you want to. It’s not important for us.”

But I stopped coming-out after that because there was only my family left to tell. I remained silent for many many years. (But it doesn’t mean I pretended being straight! It was not even an idea for me. And it would have made coming-out worse).
So, at almost 40, I had a little breakdown and send a email to those I had the address, knowing they would talk about it to their sister/brother I couldn’t reach out. I have been really less diplomat than you but I was really down:

“Ok, here it is, I can’t anymore, it has to get out or I’m gonna blow a casquet…

I don’t care if it doesn’t please someone but I’m not gonna play a role to satisfy anyone.
Let things be clear for everybody: I’m homo.
I haven’t change, I’ve always been.
I’m open to any question/discussion.

Here, it’s done.”

It turns out that, with all those years passed by, my family had evolved on the “homosexuality topic”… and that they love me for who I am.
It was just support and love. I was right to wait…

Lesbian/gay

I started coming to the realization that I was gay in high school. I was dating a guy at the time and I realized that I didn’t actually like him, but rather the IDEA of him. I wanted someone to like me; it gave me BUTTERFLIES! It made me feel happy; but I knew that I was not. I didn’t ever feel love for this boy. So after I broke up with him, I began to notice how attracted I was to girl, specifically my best friend. I fell in love with her and got my heart broken, but I am blessed for the experience because it helped me figure out who I am. I didn’t tell anyone in my family or school because I was afraid of the responses and repercussions. There weren’t many people openly LGBTQ+ in my area/life that I could use for support. In college, I fell in love with a girl who loved me back. It was the most amazing feeling! I started becoming way more confident in my sexuality and even told my close friends and parents about it. Over my college years, I became PROUD to be gay, proud to be me, and proud to love who I love. I continue to meet more and more LGBTQ+ people and increase my pride in the community. I hope to come out to the rest of my family and friends soon! I don’t want to live in fear any longer. Life is too short to hide your true authentic self!

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

Anne , Brasil

At 10, I discovered that there was something different, I realized that I was attracted to a girl who studied with me for a few years. But I was always afraid to expose myself by the judgment of the people around me, most of the time the family says that they accept you, but when we assume who we really are, there is a certain judgment, which is a very sad thing, because they they are always represented by harsh words that I will never forget. At 16, I met a woman who fell in love from the moment I saw her, at 18 I told my parents as a lesbian, and it was terrible. I married this incredible person, who helped me, as well as his family, to be someone better and not be afraid of anything. Today we are no longer together, I still have some fears, because my parents still think it was just a phase, just a long phase of 8 years ne! I continue to work with them and show that it was not a phase, and I am proud to show and raise the flag, and I know that nobody and nothing will silence me anymore. thanks for the opportunity to tell my story.

Toni

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.

Hi, my name is Toni I am 13 and I’m Bisexual. I have two very conservative parents who may never support who I am. But, that’s fine with me because I’ve realized over the years that their opinion on my love life doesn’t matter. As long as I’m happy and the person treats me right why should how they identity matter? Being with a woman is a better experience than being with a man. When you’re with a woman, they understand you better, they can relate to all the struggles that come with being a woman. Especially if your a colored queer woman in America. My family has no idea how I feel they won’t accept it but I’ve decided that once I’m 18, I’ll come out to them. That way, they can’t kick me out, by then they can disown me if that’s what they choose, at least I’ll be happy.

As a survivor of 3 years of sexual assault, it’s more common for me to gravitate towards women. It’s ok for me not to be comfortable with a man. Those 3 years of my life were the longest and hardest. It started when I was 7 turning 8 and it ended when I was 11. During the duration of those years, I was very depressed life was so miserable. Then, I meet a girl who changed my point of view of things, she had experienced the same tragedy as me. We were both survivors, we are always there for each other, we make each other smile it’s great. The sad part about the whole thing is the person who ruined my childhood is someone that I will continue to see. My family knows of what happened, but they act like it’s never happened.

Once I came out to the people who genuinely know me, I’ve been living my best life, things have been so amazing, of course, life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows but for the most part, it’s alright. I’ve found out that I’m most happy when talking, thinking, or texting a girl. “Wynonna Earp”, Wayhaught’s relationship is so adorable, even though it’s just a show, Dom and Kat’s relationship is just so beautiful and It makes me think “Wow now that’s the kind of love I want, I want someone to look at me the way they look at each other.”

In all, I hope that what you can take from my little story, is don’t be afraid to be you screw anyone else’s opinion but your own. If they don’t like who you are then it’s their loss, live for yourself and who you want to be, don’t let others live through you.

A butterfly who loves flowers

When I was 5 yrs old I had a huge crush on my female teacher. I knew it was different because I felt butterflies in my stomach. It was way different from my admiration to boys. After that I had another crush on a 6th grader when I was in my 3rd grade. She didn’t like the attention and the fact that I had a deep admiration to her so she ended our friendship. I was so heartbroken and confused. What did I do wrong? Why can’t I just like her? Then on my 5th grade I had a 6th grader gf whom I invited to go to my house. My mom was open about it and made a joke of how weird and abnormal I am. I think my family knew I am into girls since I am more boyish than girlish. I love playing ball games, wearing shorts and big shirts. They even call me “Cathy Boy” for standing up to boys (who bullied me and some girls) and for just being me. I haven’t had any struggle coming out with my family probably because I have a colorful family (gay aunt, sister, and cousins).

Though I am fortunate of having a family like them, I had difficulty coming out to the entire world. Coming from a Catholic and patriarcal country like the Philippines, it is still a big deal if you’re part of LGBTQIA++ community. I could remember back in my college days that some of my friends lectured me from acting on being gay. They told me that it is a sin to engage into sexual lesbian acts but being one is not. Some told me it is just a phase in my life. So back then I had few experiments. I tried dating and kissing men for a week or two but it didn’t work out. I knew there was something wrong. Something lacking. SPARK! It is different when I kiss a woman. There is magic. There are butterflies in my stomach. There is fire. There is passion. There is care. There is love. There is happiness.

It’s been more than a decade since I decided to just be me regardless of what people say. All I know now is that I am proud of being me and for being in the LGBTQIA++ COMMUNITY.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

Living My Truth Paved The Way To Acceptance

Growing up in England I was abused by my grandma and mum. I don’t remember a time in my early childhood when I wasn’t looking outside the family for a “mother figure”. Growing up my dad told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, just not gay.

I came to America at 20 and went through 9.5 years of counselling to free myself from my past. For a long time I had wondered if I was gay or still just looking for a mother figure like I had in childhood. At the end of years of counselling and with my past behind me, I was able to say definitively: I am gay!

Then I had to tell my homophobic dad…he and my step-mum were stopping in LA for a few days on their way back to the UK from NZ. I went to my dad’s hotel and asked if I could speak to him alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick to my stomach. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to him for days. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I was very, very, VERY happily gay, then gave the biggest smile I could muster. He stared at me and started crying. I told him everything would be okay. He drank 5 PINTS of gin and tonic at the bar that night, and the next night.

He returned to England and I didn’t hear from him for 6 weeks. Then I got a 9 page, hand written letter in the mail from him. He wrote that I had crushed his dreams of me marrying a strapping American man who I would have kids with that would grow up to play rugby for England. My 3 1/2 year old nephew had died earlier that year and my dad compared me coming out to the death of his only grandson. It was devastating beyond words.

That was 12 years ago. 7 years ago I started watching “The Fosters” and 4 years ago I started watching “Wynonna Earp”. Both had positive queer representation with no strings attached. I realised through watching these shows that any lingering elements of self hatred were not mine, they were imposed feelings from others that I had taken on as my own.

I knew then that I could only be responsible for my personal truth and living my life in the most authentic way, no matter what. I would lead by example, I had NOTHING to be ashamed of.

I boldly introduced my dad to my then-girlfriend and he was amazingly accepting and positive. He could finally see how happy I was and after all I went through growing up, he knew I deserved happiness.

Today my dad has come full circle. Not only does he embrace who I am and is so proud of me for fighting so hard for the life I have, he also told me at my sister’s wedding that when the time comes, he would want to walk me down the aisle too.

Coming out wasn’t easy, but not being true to who I am was a WHOLE lot harder. I am happier with who I am now more than at any other time in my life!

Aly

On some level, I always knew I was different. I knew that I wasn’t as “boy crazy” as all my friends growing up. Due to various outside forces at play, including (but not limited to) family, peers, church, and small town disdain of queer identities, I never allowed myself to explore the possibility that I was a lesbian.

That all changed when I graduated high school and moved 2 hours away to college. Geographically, I was still in close proximity to my family; socially, however, I was a world away from the “hick town” of my upbringing. While in college, I joined both a sorority AND the rugby club team. I met queer women of many identities and walks of life in both organizations.

Once I realized that the sometimes all-too-typical media portrayal of “butch” lesbians were not the only way to be queer, all the mental puzzle pieces clicked into place. (I feel as though I should interject here and sing the praises of butch lesbians for the wonderful, beautiful beings that they are. That’s just not an identity I have ever associated with myself, therefore it took me some time to understand that one could be a lesbian without also being perceived as masculine.)

Once I came out to myself (thanks in no small part to the Spashley and Otalia ships, as well as the movies Blue Crush and Bring It On) and started dating my first girlfriend, there was really no looking back. I finally understood the butterflies my friends talked about when referencing their first kisses with their respective boyfriends. It was with SO MUCH relieve that I realized I was neither crazy nor broken….just gay!

I still live just outside of my old college town, working as a nurse. My beautiful wife, who had her own coming-out struggles involving her very Mexican/Catholic family, is working as a local high school teacher. Every day that I wake up and get to live life alongside the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, I thank my lucky stars that I found the courage to accept and live my truth.

Good Afternoon from the tip of South Africa, Cape Town

My name is Melissa. I am a 36-year-old woman and have always been lesbian. My story is slightly different to many of the stories I’ve read on this site and would like to represent the LGBTQ stories that closely represent mine; my reason – I have not yet come across a story reflecting my journey.

My sexual orientation was very clear to me at the age of 5. It wasn’t a case of ‘i knew’, in fact, I had no idea that homosexuality was a term nor that it was deemed unacceptable in many worldly societies. I was simply being me. It was perhaps later when a fellow classmate mouthed a question to me; “What, are you lesbian?” that I realised, ah! people aren’t okay with this. It was not about the words she used but the tone and body language she used to express her disdain. I never hid my sexual orientation; I was far too confident of that. I was so confident that I had prepared myself mentally that when the day came that, I would inform my family and friends, I was ready to leave them behind because I was not willing to sacrifice a part of me for the sake of protecting the dignity and pride of others. At 16, I came out. At 18 I came out to the entire high school and not one person cared that I had nor were phased by the big step; I like to believe it is because I was confident and so in touch with myself that I would not allow the world to convince me that being me was actually wrong. Perhaps they felt that energy, perhaps they respected it or perhaps they really just didn’t care that I am attracted to women – I’ll never know. What I did learn was, always choose you first and support that strongly; there is only one you and for those that do not serve you well, walk away. Speak about your sexual orientation with normality; we attract what we reflect about ourselves to others – everything in life is a mirror.