Community Rainbow Waves

Coming out. What does that really mean?

Coming out. What does that term really mean? I don’t think anyone should have to “come out” you should just be who you are. When I was a kid liking girls didn’t really phase me. I was a “tom boy” per say but I liked to wear jeans and play baseball. I mean I can hang with the boys even if I was a girl. It wasn’t until I was in 9th grade that I really started to see that I liked girls as well as guys. I mean when you have a crush on Angel and Buffy, Pacey and Joey then you know you like both. It wasn’t something I talked about a lot. I had boy friends but dreamed of kissing a girl. It wasn’t until my 20’s when I actually did do that, kiss a girl and well I liked it. I come from a religious background so acting on these feelings weren’t on my mind. My church has since accepted the LGBTQ community which is great. After kissing my friend that was when it started to become real to me. She made me realize that it was OK to act on those feelings. Jump ahead a few years and I met a girl named Amanda. We were inseparable, we talked on the phone for hours and would hang out a lot. She was my co-worker so I would see her everyday. The kicker was, she had a boyfriend. The moment I realized that I was in love with her was the day she broke my heart. That day I will never forget. Her daughter loved me to death and thought the world of me. So loosing her as a friend was one of the worst days of my life. It has been over 10 years since that happened but to this day I truly believe that she started to feel something for me but got scared of that feeling, and the only way she knew how to handle it was to just cut off our friendship. I really believe that she was my soul mate because I had never had feelings for anyone like I did for her. The connection we had was like no other. I never acted on my feelings towards her because I didn’t want to loose our friendship. Since then I have stayed away from dating anyone serious because I didn’t want to be hurt like that again. After that happened I’ve only talked to guys because it felt safe for me. So going back to my first statement, what does “coming out” really mean. I guess you could say I just came out to all of you with this post. But I shouldn’t have to come out because love is love no matter who it is with. So here I am coming out to all of you that I am bisexual and I’m proud to say that.

A girl who loves loving girls

I was 12 when I realised that it wasn’t necessarily that I wanted to BE certain girls, but that I wanted to be WITH those girls. The first time I said the words out loud, it was to my dog…best friend I ever had and least judgemental soul I knew. Perfect way to start. The second time, I didn’t tell them, they told me? My childhood best friend. Girl noticed more than I gave her credit for. I’ll always remember the way she phrased it… ‘when are you gonna tell me who you love?’, it wasn’t forceful, the tone she used, it was knowing and full of warmth…I think we were 14. The relief I felt after that conversation left me physically shaking, I felt so free and determined. It only grew from there, I told my best friends, close friends, classmates and family. Not every reaction was good, but most of the people who loved me took the time to understand, now they’re more likely to shout it from the rooftops than I am. Some didn’t, but I’m hopeful they’ll come round. The most important thing for me, is that I am confident in who I am, and that I have an amazing group of people around me who love me, no matter what. I was in my first year of high school when I started to even entertain the idea I might be a lesbian, and I was terrified. Now, I’m 18 and just finished my first year of university. I am not afraid anymore, I’m just proud.

Queer

I think I’ve always known I was part different, but growing up in a very small town I did not grow up with anyone in the queer community around me, or at least they were not open.

When I was in grade 8, my mom moved us to the next town over which was slightly bigger. There I fell in with a bunch of misfits, some of which were exploring their sexualities.
At the time, I was still dating guys, although I was tossing them aside before anything could become real.

In grade nine, I finally worked up the courage to tell one of my then bisexual friends that I thought I might also be bisexual. She then went on to dismiss me and said, and I quote “you’re our straight friend”. As you might have guessed this pushed me even further back into the closet, when I stayed until after I graduated.

It wasn’t until I moved across the province to the big city of Vancouver for school, that I actually allowed myself to start to come out to my new school mates. There I met this older Brazilian girl, who was my first relationship with a girl….and wow, eye opener.

Since then I have been dating women, identifying as queer as gay/lesbian/bi/pan feel too restrictive for me. I am pretty open with my friends that I have made since college and new people I have met, I am still not out to my family and a lot of my childhood friends back home.

I’m pretty sure my parents know, I mean I basically dressed and acted like a boy from the ages of 5-11. But I became rather famine during high school. One moment I feel ready to tell them and think they will be fine, and the next I remember and old comment they made or something they said recently that makes me hold back.

I’m 26, and I’m still a bit of a hot mess when it comes to relationships. But working on it.

Amanda, NJ

My journey started super early, because I always sort of knew I was gay, it just took me a while to realize/ accept it.
In 7th grade, I dated a girl for a week (you know how middle school relationships are) because I was impulsive and really just wanted to be in a relationship. The problem, though, was that I never accepted myself. I wasn’t able to say that I was gay. I never even really came out to my friends. I sort of just said that I liked a girl, and they didn’t bat an eye (and for that I consider myself super lucky). But once word got out about this “relationship,” so many of my peers questioned me, asking me if I was a lesbian or if I was bisexual. I always answered with “no, no, I’m bi” because in my head that meant that I was still “normal.” So basically, I was forced out of the closet to my school before I was really ready to come out to myself.
Even though I was technically out in 7th grade, I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until sophomore year. This is very cliche, but I remember looking myself in the mirror, and literally saying to myself “I’m gay,” over and over. Even though I was out for 3 years, it was still the first time I said it out loud to myself and it actually meant something to me.
I think this is a good time to mention that I come from a Christian household. My uncle, who unfortunately passed, was gay, and I was always scared that since my grandparents didn’t really accept him, that meant my parents wouldn’t really accept me. I remember one specific time, there were two men dancing with each other on screen. There was definitely no way in telling if either of these individuals were gay, but my father just scoffed. I asked him what was wrong, and he pointed to the screen and said “you know what’s wrong with that.” I think that that small interaction is really what scared me away from coming to terms with my sexuality.
Sophomore year I found a real girlfriend, and I thought that it was time I told my parents that I was gay. I knew my mom wasn’t homophobic, but I was terrified because I was her only girl (I have three older brothers). I always felt like I disappointed her because I was never a “girly-girl” or anything like that. There have been numerous times where she would yell at me for not being feminine. Anyways, I told her that I would potentially be going to prom with someone. She listed off the names of boys until I stopped her. Then she guessed my girlfriend at the time, and I broke down. She also started crying, and she told me that she would always love me, and gave my that typical parent response, which I actually appreciated.
I never told my dad that I was gay, my mom did. She told me to tell him, but she knew I wouldn’t be able to. Then, we didn’t talk for 3 months. Looking back, I realized that he wasn’t mad at me for being gay, he was upset that I couldn’t tell him myself. Our silent-treatment broke one day when I started playing his favorite song on guitar, and now he actually acknowledges the fact that I’m gay.
I never told my brothers explicitly that I’m gay, I just told them that I had/have a girlfriend, and they didn’t question it.
I consider myself super lucky to have the people that I have in my life. However, the fear will always linger with me whenever I meet new people. I don’t know if anyone actually read this or not, but I hope that my story gives everyone else out there some form of hope. It’s important to realize that you will never be alone, no matter how lonely you feel. We’re lucky enough to be growing up in a generation that has resources, like Start the Wave, that acknowledge how important representation is.
I know that I am super thankful that I have role models, like Dominique P-C, that are so determined to make people feel less alone. I speak for myself when I say that organizations like this really do save people.

Thompkell (she/her)

I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”

Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.

I had to make a choice.

So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.

The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.

I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.

Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?

But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.

I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.

Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.

But what is a “coming out story”?

I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.

What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.

And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.

Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.

Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo

“The Waverly In Me”

So, here it goes.

I can’t really remember the exact moment when I found I was “different”. But, I knew at some point of high school I realized that something in me was pretty much diverted from what the society perceives as “right”.

At first it scared me. I knew for a fact that I like boys. But at the same time, get attacted to girls. I was starting to get frightened about the fact that I’m slowly being pulled towards a kind of liking that my conservative, Catholic family wouldn’t like.

So, I made sure I supressed whatever “bad” feelings I was experiencing then. I made sure to be in a relationship with what is “conventional”.

That was in high school, and later my first two years in college. I was In and out of relationships with “boys”. I was trying my best to cure whatever it is that’s bugging me for years, and years now.

Ironically, the medicine I thought would help me was just making everything worse. I ruined friendships. I ruined myself. I was slowly being devoured by the very thing I thought would save me.

Now when I graduated from college, I persude my passion in teaching Literature. I became a teacher, and met the love of my life; a girl. But, the thing is, I was never out. And that every unwanted feeling that I’ve been hiding for a decade suddenly surfaced because of her.

We became a couple. It was a secret. A beautiful secret but by the time we were about to celebrate our first year anniversary, things went downhill.

One of my colleagues outed me. She saw our texts, and she outed me to our principal. I didn’t know what to do then. I was called to his office, and gave me an ultimatum. You see, this school is a sectarian school. Grounded by traditional rules. In short, if you’re a girl, who’s into both genders, and has a girlfriend, you out.

I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. And I made the stupidest decision; I boke up with my love. And it was terrible.

All these feelings, I kept them all in the dark til I watched Wynonna Earp. I’ve always cried during that scene where Waverly’s aunt tells here that there surprises that come our way, in what, or who we meet. Right there and there I knew, I was not alone.

In the character of Waves, I felt at home. I realized I wasn’t alone. That what I feel, that fear of being judged, is normal.

My ex is currently happy with her new girlfriend,. And, I am happy for her too.

As for me, I am just happy that I am not alone in this battle.

To be able to fall in love with anyone, regardless of their gender, their social standing, how they look, how they talk.

I guess, the best way to end this confession is by telling everyone that when we love, we love. That’s that.

Love is love. No matter what.

This is me.

I am QUEER af.

And I’m out.

Sunsets on Mars are blue

I’ve always liked science and reading about anything and everything I could. I grew up as a very curious kid, and was mix of sporty and bookworm. I loved structure and the sense of control that sports gave me. But what I was never able to achieve was to be feminine enough to be seen as a traditional girl and of course I was not a boy either. I was once again a dycotomy, and that mix in my gender expression translated for over fifteen years in being a loner. I love learning and as much as reading about society and history makes me passionate, I came to recognize that I had been avoiding knowing about myself, my truth self. For years I tried to model my behaviour and looks to fit into some image others had created of me and I was so thirsty to fullfill, specially what I thought my parents wanted me to be. I admit now that I was scared of the knowledge that was already deep inside me: I liked girls. The simple thought of it felt to me like I was flirting with something that was out of my reach. I tried to numb it during my teen age years until I relapsed into an episode of severe depression. Now I wonder how many years of deep sadness I could have avoided if I had listened to myself instead of letting the outside noise damp my own voice. I have always known I am gay. Proof of that is how many times I had crushes with female superheroes (Hallee Berry as Storm in XMen was maybe my first) and how many times I craved to be more similar to certain strong female figures (like Ronda Rousy). The knowledge was always there, waiting for me to open that chapter of my own life. My self-acceptance felt like washing my worries away while getting soaked in pouring rain: cleansing and comforting. Then came my very first real relationship with some girl I met in college that quickly morphed into a psychologically violent relationship. It still stings to think of myself as an intimate partner violence survivor as well as a sexual assault survivor. I failed to protect myself because I focused on filling an image that wasn’t my own. Now as I work as a therapist and have made peace with my past I wonder, how many other queer kids like me are in a greater danger to be hurt because they feel the need to hide? How many adults grow up as broken humans because they get denied the chance to shine in their own light? I mourn for the queer kid I was. For that little girl who loved sports and to dress like a boy, who loved climbing trees and wanted more than anything to be able to be the red Power Ranger instead of the pink one. I mourn for all the queer kids like me who are still waiting to shine. If one of you is reading this I can tell you, it gets better, you are loved and wanted just as you are. I finally made peace, I am in a relationship sith a wonderful woman who showed me her acceptance and love to my truth self when she looked for sciencey facts that she knew would make me happy to know. Now in my ribs shines my tattoo with the first fun fact she looked for me: Sunsets on Mars are blue.
I am not longer afraid of knowing myself completely: I am a therapist, still love science, I love sports, I still dress a lot of times more masculine. I am a gay woman and proud. I am loved. I am valid. I am wanted. I belong.
So if you are still seeking, still waiting, if you feel alone I tell you this: I got your back, always, I am your family now. You are wanted, you are loved, please keep shining with your own light.

Simply Amy

I was 15 years old, but I guess I always knew, had my first kiss with a girl on a dare and it sparked something in me, my friends accepted me before I even accepted me. Spent years struggling with my sexuality identity and still do to this day, didn’t come out to my parents until I was 21 forced out the closet by my ex girlfriend, which I resent but same time grateful for, I’m open and I’m free and last year (age 28) I found the label pansexual which suits me, I love women cis gendered or not I love non binary and rarely but yes I do sometimes find myself attracted to men cis gendered or not. I’ve struggled with my gender but never really wanted to change my body and I still struggle with that identity. Sexuality and gender is fluid and I’m always going to be figuring that out but that’s ok…. I’m simply Amy and that’s ok too

Living QUEER without FEAR. I’m Jes.

They say your childhood years should be the best years of your life–little to no responsibilities, innocent friendships and frequent laughter. My story, however, veered into less blissful territory.

I moved in with my father at age 6, which is where the memory of my childhood began. I was happy there. My father, then on his second marriage, seemed to finally be stable. My step mother seemed to be a wonderful woman who really stepped up to raise a growing little girl she had only just met.

A year later, my brother moved in, and my father and step mother tried to establish as much normalcy as possible. We spent time together, going to the beach and playing games. What we didn’t see was the complete unraveling of their marriage happening right before us. My parents efficiently and completely sheltered us from their inevitable demise.

After the divorce, we moved many times. Which of course resulted in different school systems, and different homes, the worst of which were without electricity. Eventually, my father made the decision to move us closer to his family halfway across the country, to the panhandle of Oklahoma. It was there, a year later, where he found the woman who would become his third wife. And as a result, our life settled.

At age 11, my whole world changed into daily physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, by people who were supposed to be safe. Let me be clear that my father has never, aside from punishment, abused or hurt me. But he also profoundly failed to protect me.

At 13, I realized what attraction meant, and recognized I wasn’t like the other girls in my small town. Each of them had boyfriends and crushes, while I secretly daydreamed about the girls I liked. Like many young gays, I tried to date boys to distract or convince my brain I was “normal.” I hid the pain of my abuse and my homosexuality from everyone. I wrestled and struggled with the abuse and my complicated differences for another year, until finally, I was removed from my father’s care, and placed with my grandparents.

It truly felt like a crushing weight was lifted off my chest. It felt like my life had just started. But also, I was broken. I was on a train of tragedy, headed straight for derailment with no idea how to slow myself down. So, in an attempt to have any excuse to run away or escape, I came out to my grandparents. Having already endured what I believed was the worst life could have dealt, I shared my secret with them. To my surprise, I didn’t need to run. They hugged me, loved me, and accepted every part of me. I was finally free. Free from abuse, and free from my prison of secrecy.

I am a queer woman.
I identify as a lesbian.
I have a beautiful family.
I am stronger now than my 13 year old self would ever believe I could be–and I am strong because of what I survived in my childhood.

-Jes.

#OutIsTheNewIn

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 🙂