Community Rainbow Waves

I guess I’m a lesbian but I usually just use the term gay

I really should have figured my attraction to girls sooner. As early as I could remember I grew up wishing I was gay, funny enough. I was upset because I found girls so incredible and amazing and I wished I was attracted to them instead. (I was lol) I’d say it finally clicked when I watched glee. For the first time in my life I felt like I understood my own feelings. Santana’s storyline made me realize I’d loved girls all along I’d just been pushing it down unintentionally. I was so happy to finally feel seen. Representation matters, and I’m so glad Earpers can have a similar experience with the incredible representation on this show.

Anaïs

I am 27 and I’ve liked girls for as long as I can remember. When I was 5, I wrote a love letter to a girl in my class, but never gave it to her ’cause I was too shy. Years later I found the letter and felt so embarrassed that I threw it away. At that time, I was already brainwashed into thinking that being queer was wrong and dirty. From that day on I decided that I’d never think of girls again, and that’s what I did… Until high school, at least!
I remember watching the tv show Skins when I was a teen just because it portrayed a lesbian couple and it was everything that I could find in terms of representation. I feel so happy for the kids today that have access to amazing content such as Wynnona Earp. Positive queer representation can change people’s lives <3
During high school I ended up kissing some girls thanks to Spin the Bottle, which gave me the courage to kiss a friend at a party at my senior year and I reeeeeally fell for her! I spent months with a major crush on her! At that moment I thought: ok, I’m definitely not straight! Maybe Bissexual?
I had some boyfriends here and there and managed to get my first girlfriend at college. And when we first got together, I remember thinking: so that’s how being attracted to someone is supposed to feel like!!
I never planned on coming out because I was still figuring out my own feelings. I was dating this girl, it was Dia dos Namorados (something like Valentine’s Day) and I was nervous enough having this secret relationship and stuff, but my mom could tell that something was off (moms, am I right?). She spent the entire day asking me what was wrong and why I couldn’t talk to her, until I burst out that I was in love with a girl.
My mom cried for weeks and went through all those grief stages, but my dad was my rock. We’ve never been close, me and my dad, but he really stood up for me when my mom was freaking out, and I believe we got closer because of that.
My first year out of the closet wasn’t easy, me and my mom argued a lot. Every week I would find a new video or research about sexuality and gender and try to explain to her that it was all normal and it wasn’t a choice. And so, a year went by, my first relationship ended, and we spent another year without talking about my sexuality at home. During this year I got to focus on my feelings and found out that I identified as a lesbian. Since that, I started living out and proud and my family followed along at their own pace.
Today we couldn’t be better. I’m engaged to the most amazing woman, who my family absolutely loves (yay!). We’ve been together for 6 years and we have 2 cats (living the dream! Hahaha). My fiancé is funny, smart, beautiful and always has my back. We’ve grown so much together, as a couple and as individuals, and I am really proud of this whole journey.
So, I just wanna tell you guys what other strangers on the internet told me before: The journey might be hard, but it does get better!
We all deserve to shine, to love and to live. Be proud and celebrate yourselves.

BeKindNomad – Jude

While this might be a little lengthy I assure you, it’s the truncated version of the story. I’m always open to speaking further about my life and experiences for anyone interested and especially if it may help someone else.

Let’s do a little travel back in time. Before Ellen’s famous coming out “Puppy” episodes in 1997. Before AOL went unlimited and allowed the first wave of people to surf the web and access information in a whole new way. Let’s go back to the 1980s where a young girl so desperately wanted to hang with the boys. A young girl who played with He-Man instead of Barbie. A young girl who felt like her skin was crawling every time she was forced to wear a dress. It was a “dark ages” because there was no information about anything LGBT+ anywhere around. Fast forward a little and the only time a gay or “trans” person was seen on the screen was a prostitute, druggie, or some other evil or mentally deranged type of character. But I kept finding myself drawn to girls and even those a little older than me but I didn’t know what this “draw” was because I had no vocabulary for it.
I wasn’t overly religious but I was asked to be a godmother to my cousin who was born in 1991 so I had to get confirmed and that meant I had to do confession as part of the final “classes.” I told the priest I was confused and didn’t know what was going on but that I was finding I was attracted to other girls. The priest turned to me and asked how I thought I’d look black and blue and unless I wanted to find out I should leave the confessional. I was surprised but as I wasn’t overly religious to begin with I didn’t feel “betrayed by my faith” as many others might have felt.
I was constantly tormented and teased in school as the “weirdo” and the black sheep in general. There was a small, dark phone booth in my middle school that I would often hide in to avoid the tormentors. In the tiny room were a little bench built into the wall and a little rack where a little newspaper-type booklet was placed in the slats. I would flip through it often just to have something to read and noticed a section for gay and lesbian. What are these words? What do they mean? I wasn’t entirely sure but, at the same time, I felt like these were incredibly important words. There was a listing for a local support group for youth. When squirreled the booklet away but was too nervous to call.
I was distracted by constantly being beaten up at school, beaten up at home by my father, and feeling like I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera in middle school because I felt a kinship with Erik (Phantom). I felt like my attraction to the same gender was like his deformity. I felt grotesque and shunned by the world and so I started to turn away from the world in kind. I retreated to my mind and turned to writing. I’d write all kinds of stories but the recurring theme was a female “hero” always rescuing some female “damsel” – really likely the same old stories everyone else told except same-sex based. When I discovered that my parents were breaking into my writings I felt everything and anything I did was violated – I had nothing! No one to speak to, no one to trust, and I couldn’t even “speak to myself” through my writing. I retreated even further into my mind – opting now to just keep my thoughts to myself and never write anything anymore because even that was being violated. The more I retreated into myself the more I became “odder” to others and the more I was tortured and beaten up by my classmates and at home.
I spent the summer before I entered High School as a freshman just riding my bike. I’d get out of the house first thing in the morning and would ride anywhere and everywhere all day so I wouldn’t have to be home and deal with my father. High school started and I went to classes and joined the drama club because I always had a passion for theater thanks to my grandmother (who passed back in 1992) and the love I had for Phantom of the Opera was still strong because it was “my story” too. He was deformed on the outside and I was deformed on the inside because I liked girls. There was a boy in drama that was gay and said I should check out a support group. I remembered that booklet and eventually called and spoke to a lovely young woman (who I believe was about 18 or so) who told me all about the group and “coming out” and told me when the next meeting was going to be. I felt that maybe I wasn’t crazy or disgusting and maybe it was okay to like girls. I told a senior girl I was crushing on at the time that I liked her…
…Apparently, I was wrong…
She told the school principal and before I knew it I was being kicked out of school and being mandated into a mental hospital for “observation” for a month. It was true! Something was very wrong with me. I was a filthy disgusting creature just like I always knew I was! In the hospital was a girl and a boy, both around my age (maybe a year or two older) and they were lesbian and gay – the girl was discharged within the first few days of my being there but the boy was very friendly and told me about this local support group that I should check out when I got released. It turns out that it was the same group I called about and planned to attend a meeting before I got tossed in the loony bin. We got out around the same time and he agreed to meet me at the next meeting so I wouldn’t have to go alone.
When I got there it was a small, dark room with just a couple of chairs. There were a couple of older kids (18 or so) who ran the group and then a couple of others around my age and so. I was instantly attracted to one of the girls there and so I reached out and we went on a date. We wound up dating (in secret – I didn’t come out to anyone yet) for a little while when her mother kicked her out so my parents said she could stay with us. My sister and I were hanging out on her bed while she was in the shower and I fell asleep so my sister left to go to her room and my girlfriend just crawled into bed next to me. The next morning my mother walked in and saw us sharing the bed, both sound asleep, and started screaming. She grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed and started beating on me and screaming for my girlfriend to get the F— out of the house. My mother then proceeded to out me to my entire family and, thankfully, most of them said they weren’t too surprised and didn’t have much issue with it overall.
Unfortunately, that girl wound up cheating on me with someone I was on a volunteer ambulance squad with and that was the end of my first same-sex/lesbian relationship and I was thrust out of the closet. From then on I decided I would beat everyone to the punch and just introduced myself as “Hi, I’m the lesbian…” and while it startled people it also took away the power many would have over me. Most of my relationships wound up ending because I was cheated on. Around 2005/2006 I was working in an animal shelter and a woman (6 years older) saw my MySpace and we started chatting. We agreed to lunch and hit it off instantly. We were together for 4 years and my family was very accepting at this point. I started to talk to her about feeling like I was in the wrong body. For a long time I thought maybe I was just a butch lesbian but – once again – I had no vocabulary to understand what I was feeling – only that I was feeling something wasn’t right with how I saw myself in my head versus what I saw in the mirror. So, I stopped looking in the mirror. Despite her being married to a man previously and my telling her I think she’s bi versus lesbian she was adamant that she was lesbian – to the point where she told me if she wanted to be with a guy she would have stayed with her ex and that she didn’t want me to keep talking about this “wrong body” nonsense. I proposed to her, she accepted, and at one point a bunch of friends of mine planned to gather in the city (NYC) for dinner. I was excited to have everyone meet her and so we went. I introduced her to one guy and his live-in girlfriend and several other friends. Not long after I found out she went out to hang out with the two friends and they wound up kissing – before we knew it – she and I were breaking up and the guy kicked his girlfriend and her kid out of his house and now my fiancé and he were suddenly dating. I started online dating almost immediately after and hooked up with a girl from TN so I hopped on my motorcycle with everything I could manage to fit into bags strapped all over it and rode for 22 hours straight until I reached Nashville. She told me about Drag Kings and that I might be interested in that since I kept feeling like I was in the wrong body. We went to the gay clubs in Nashville where I saw Drag Kings for the first time and learned about transitioning for the first time. A month later we moved to Raleigh, NC where I started to do my own drag (dressing up as a male) and thought maybe I’m a “male-identifying lesbian.” I still didn’t have a grasp of what being transgender was or even that was what I wanted to do. I was clueless.
When I talked about “doing drag full time” as my mind understood it, my new girlfriend gave me the same old story. “If I wanted to be with a guy, I’d be straight and I’m not.” Okay, I will put the relationship ahead of my fulfillment. I wasn’t even sure what to do so why risk a long-term relationship on a “who knows what?” When I found out that she was cheating on me for some time (including one of them being with a GUY!!!!) I was done putting others ahead of my happiness. We split and I immediately went into full research mode about transitioning and March 22, 2014, I started my first shot of testosterone. But… my sister was getting married in August and I very quickly grew facial hair and my voice dropped – I needed to come out to my family quickly.
I spoke with a couple of cousins (I’m an Italian New Yorker, I have a lot of cousins) who I knew would be supportive and they said the same thing – “we’re not really surprised.” With support of some form, I told my family and they were confused but also gave me the “not really surprised” kind of response. Oh, but could you still shave and wear the dress for the wedding? I once again suppressed myself and did it so that my sister’s special day would go off without a hitch.
I’ve not dated since 2014 for a variety of reasons. I’m tired of being with people who would physically beat on me, who kept repressing me, and constantly being cheated on. I have been treated so badly by so many, including so many who claimed to love me that I didn’t believe that there were any people with genuine kindness or love in them. I got so tired of being told someone loves me “in spite of” this or that quality of mine. I have since been split from my family and have found myself to be incredibly alone and heartbroken but, at the same time, I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the barest form of myself so that I can rebuild myself better and stronger than ever. To be honest, I still wonder if there is any genuine kindness in people but having come across Dominique who seems to exude this incredible light of beautiful kindness from deep inside her soul I find it gives me a little touch of hope that there are beings out there with true love in their heart. That someone out there will be willing to be patient with me as I cleanse my scars and love me BECAUSE of who I am instead of the dreadful “in spite of.” I know that I have so much to give as a person, as a human, and surely there must be someone out there for me. It’s just very hard because I’m “too female” (ugh) for straight woman and “too male” for lesbians – or so I’ve been told multiple times. Finding someone who seeks to love me for my soul is perhaps the hardest journey of my life but I’m open to the universe guiding me and that person together. In the meantime, I continue to learn about myself and grow and learn. I may have “come out” twice – first as a lesbian and then again as a trans man – but I find that life is constantly about growing into yourself and all the many ways we come to embrace and express ourselves. So, until the person who will love my soul comes along I will keep on living and learning.

I am a Gender-Fluid Queer

My story is one that never ends, its an endless cyclone of fear and misery, a tale is old as time. Living in a religious Hispanic household restricted me from, well.. being anyone i wanted to be. Being the youngest of seven siblings i didn’t have much choice in the matter when it came to expressing my true self, at an early age i knew i was different. Well so did my favorite Aunt, she was more of a mother to me then my actual one, she looked after me when my parents were away for years working in the city. But my first coming out story began in the summer of ’04, when something inside me awakened. I couldn’t turn to my family with it in fear of instant rejection or judgement or even isolating me from the world, so to practice I told a lie to my best friend at the time to see her reaction to the news, i said ” i was playing with the girl next door and some how we ended up kissing, I didn’t know how I felt about it but I might try it again, what do you think?” her response was priceless, she asked if I was gay now, I said no of course not I’ve had boyfriends in the past, she went on to say its ok if you are, just live your life ill support you and what every you decide. Now mind you we were like 9 years old, they stuck to me. from then on, I became a little more confident and bolder in my social surrounding such as school and eventually work. until one day my aunt asked me, “Kay do you like girls?” I was utterly shocked, for I thought no member in my family suspected it, I turned red with embarrassment first rejecting the question, but I looked at my Aunts face which showed nothing but kindness and I finally had that courage and said it out loud YES! An honest to goodness Wave of relief washed over me I felt flushed, but she said shes always known but waited for me to come to her but my fear was too deep she knew I never would. We sat up that whole night talking about every minut detail, she helped me feel accepted, loved and supported. I became a little bolder a few days later my older sister called me to ask if I was Gay I said I was a lesbian yes, but being called gay or lesbian never sat right with me I mean I like girls so being called lesbian insinuated I was only female, I knew I was born a girl but I also liked when strangers would mistake me for a boy, so i sot the advice and consul of others like me to put a name to who I was as a person, coming across label as “Gender-Fluid Queer” it described me to the “T” so thats how i described myself to my brothers and friends and yea stranger to if asked. Now the dark part of all this, my dearest loving Aunt passed, and my father left us, I was left with the one person I was most terrified of. My religious headstrong Mother, I alone watch over her none of my siblings want nothing to do with her I am all she has, til this day she still does not know or is in denial. She is now a fragile woman, so in fear of hurting her I say nothing, cowardly I know, I’ve tried many times over they years to tell her but just when I finally think I have the nerve to fess up , I chicken out. Its a fear that paralyzes me from having a social life anymore, going out on dates or meeting anyone. I’ve lived with this weight on my chest for 20 years, so to take care of me and separate myself from her negativity I have taken up therapy to cope with this weight. Hopefully in due time I can work on my true authentic self and have the courage to tell her as I’ve done many times over!

Hopefully you can find a silver lining in my story and if you have a similar story just know your not alone!
Thank you for reading
Much Love!

Abbey: One who’s capacity to love grows exponentially each day!

I always love deeply. Through my adolescence I loved so hard it hurt. I was truly confused at the difference between what I felt inside and what I saw all around. I even went as far as determining another type of love that I just knew existed to try to explain in a more “acceptable” manner what I was feeling for other people. This was when I was 15 and knew little of other cultures that describe a myriad of types of love. I dated many people of both genders pretty quietly for too many years. Then I met Molly. Our love was so luminous . So able to easily penetrate through all the bullshit that had been and that I had allowed to be built around me. And that was that. We loved each other. We came out to our families and friends. Years later I proposed, we are married and have a beautiful daughter and a son on the way. It is intense how my capacity to love grows exponentially each day. Allowing this love has allowed all the love.

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

Bi Pansexual

I have known since my adolescent days. I waited til my early twenties to act out and be intimate with men. I have very fond memories of pleasuring a few sexy guys. But I am in a monogamous marriage now, so my past is still in my past. I am not Out to family or friends. But to only a few select Gay men and Lesbian women I have as friends.

Queer

I guess I’ve always known that I’m queer. When all the girls in my class started to care about getting attention from the boys, I only wanted to play soccer. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Then, around sixteen, I finally understood the other girls. Only – I wasn’t trying to woo the boys, I wanted attention from the girls. Fast forward a year later, I finally told my mom. She hugged me and said she didn’t care, I could love whoever I wanted. After that I gradually told the rest of my family and my friends, and now I live happily with the rainbow flag flying high outside my house!

Lesbian

i guess i knew i wasnt straight when i was watching greys anatomy and started liking amelia shepherd and lexie grey a little too much. i sort of obsessed over them and realized that wasn’t a thing straight girls did. i tried calling myself bisexual and it worked for a while, but eventually i realized i didn’t really like men the same way i like women. i told one of my close friends, and she encouraged me to tell my other friends. a year and five months ago i came out to my sister, and she said she wasn’t surprised. two weeks later i started dating one of my best friends, and we’ve been together for a little over a year and four months. then, 8 months ago, i came out to my mom. she wasn’t thrilled about me dating at 14, but she really didn’t care that i was gay. now she makes gay jokes with me and tells me to invite my girlfriend over for dinner. i’m glad i got the courage to come out, and im insanely grateful to my family for being so accepting and okay with it. so here i am, typing my story into a website. my name is hannah, i’m 15 years old, and i’m a proud lesbian.

I am bisexual

During high school. When I got my current girl friend, I came out to my best buddy and one of my close aunt. Only 2 of them that I told them personally. One day, 1 of my BFF noticed my interactions with my girl friend and confronted me. That’s where I’m forced to come out to another few of my BFF.