Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

TRIGGER WARNING: Some of the posts on this page may contain sensitive or potentially triggering content. Start the Wave has tried to identify these posts and place individual trigger warnings on them. 

 

Should you come across any content that needs further review, please contact us through the Contact Us page.

Mikayla

In retrospect, there were plenty of signs throughout my childhood that proved I wasn’t straight. No, I didn’t just really, really want to be friends with certain female classmates like I thought at the time, I had huge crushes on them. At 13, I consciously made the decision to be an “ally” to my friend whom I thought might be gay. Oh, the irony. Even after taking every available “Am I Gay?” quiz on the internet, my brain managed to maintain the wall it put up to protect my consciousness from the reality of my queer identity. “Reality” involved too many struggles, uncertainties, and judgements that I would’ve had to face once I came out to myself, so I spent years unaware that a part of me had already begun questioning my sexuality. Then, when I was 16, I had a dream that I was dating one of my female classmates. I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night and said out loud to myself, “Shit, I’m gay.” An epiphany. Then, I smiled, so peaceful and happy to finally understand so much of my life from before that moment. Though, the fear eventually set in. I tried so desperately to stay closeted and avoid being a target for the homophobia expressed by my family and classmates that I spent everyday until graduation with the goal of being as invisible as possible. Almost three years later, I’d mostly come to terms with being bisexual and decided to come out to my little sister, step-sister, and best friend. They all accepted me immediately. Then, a few weeks later, the Pulse Nightclub shooting happened in my city and it stomped out all the light of my newfound openness. However, it was never a question that I would eventually come out to everyone I could, but afraid that I’d be disowned, I decided to wait until I graduated college and moved out of my mom’s house to come out to my parents. Things didn’t work out that way though because I was outed to my mother when she found paperwork from my therapist about my sexuality and a few other very serious issues I was seeking help for. I had to officially come out to her in a therapy session after that. She said she loved me no matter what but we haven’t spoken about it in three years. I was less interested in hiding my identity from my Trump-supporting dad since I didn’t live with him anyway. Eventually, he asked me about the pride flag on my keychain so I told him I was bi. He also said he loved me no matter what but that it’s better if I just pick one gender to be interested in (I decided to choose my battles wisely and leave that conversation for another time). He hugged me and said he’d keep my “secret” and we haven’t talked about it in a year. I have spent the last few years living “out” and finding where I belong in the world and among the vastness of the queer community. Most of this part of my journey has been led by Wynonna Earp, its fandom and cast, and Start The Wave, as they came into my life at the most pivotal moments possible and exactly when I truly needed them. The universe, man. And now, I’ll navigate the next steps of my journey to fully living as my authentic self with my brave little sister by my side since she has recently come out to me as bisexual. We got this. To other queer people, you got this, too.

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

My name is Melissa, I’m 20 and this is my Rainbow Wave

I always knew that I was different in many ways : I wasn’t thin enough, I wasn’t “girly” enough, I wasn’t quiet enough, funny enough…. As a child I was proud of what make me different from the others, I was a little girl who loved biology and astronomy, who loved to read everything that fell in my hands. I practically grew up surrounded by boys so I acted like them and loved the same things that they loved : I loved playing soccer, playing in the grass and mud, jumping in puddles and climbing in the trees. And of course the women in my family (my mother, my godmother and my grandmother) disliked it. They wanted me to behave “like a girl”; for them it was not get all dirty by playing in the mud, sit correctly and straight, and most importantly I didn’t have to be loud. I believed that in order to fit in I had to stop being myself. As I grew up and went to middle school I started to shut myself down, I would stop going outside to play with other kids and instead spend hours in my room, reading books and creating stories with my imagination. I became quiet, I barely talked anymore… I kind of disappeared.

I was in 8th grade when I started to question my sexuality. I was never really interested in boys but seeing as every girl was, well I forced myself into being interested. I even had a boyfriend for a few months. So at the beginning of this new year, with a new class I met new people. And I remember noticing this girl in my class. She had the most beautiful eyes I ever saw, they were as blue as the summer sky and I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the sound of her laugh or the way she smiled when she was talking with her friends. Of course at first I didn’t really thought much about it, I assumed I admired her and just wanted to be like her. Then I realized that I was becoming strangely obsessive with her (not in a weird way, just in the way of a middle school girl with her first crush), I started to look for her in the crowd of middle schoolers and every time I would spot her, I was flustered and lost the track of whatever was happening around me. That’s when I realized that I had a crush on her. At first I tried to deny it as much as I could, but even with all the will in the world, I couldn’t fight these feelings. I was scared and didn’t know what was the meaning of this or to who I could talk about it, so naturally I decided to hide it as best as I could.

Then one day, I was talking with my best friend about this new TV show that we discovered a few weeks ago. She wouldn’t stop talking about this one guy that she find cute and also really hot and I was like ‘Meh I guess he is ok, but like have you seen her ?!” and I launch into a huge rant about this other character. As we join others friends, my mind started to wander back to this conversation. I realized that I talked only about female characters while my best friend talked about the male ones. I thought back on other conversations and I came with this same conclusion every time : I couldn’t stop talking about girls. Later that day at home, I started searching for answers on the internet and fell into the many LGBTQ+ websites and articles. As I learned more and more through different stories of people and put the pieces together, I understood that I was a lesbian.

I came out gradually to my loved ones when I felt that I was ready to share my truth. I’m lucky to have many people supporting me and it helped me accepting myself and be comfortable in my own skin. I learn to be more loud and proud of who I am, to embrace all of what make me different and to make the little girl I once was, proud of the woman I became.

What I want you to take from my story is that you should never let anyone tell you that you need to hide who you are in order to be more like anyone else, because our differences are what makes us beautiful and what make this world so interesting. Even if sometimes things are difficult and you think you will never be able to be yourself, you need to keep going, and be as true to yourself as you can because in the end everything will be worth it. My mom often says “Everything happens for a reason and it will make sense in its own time”, so remember that you are not alone in this and if nobody told you this yet : I am proud of you.

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

Anonymous

i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.

Cheezylezbian87

I first Had an inclination my freshman year of college, when I began to have feelings for my best friend(10/06). I kept my feelings hidden for fear of rejection. I became involved years later, (10/11), with a girl and fell in love for the first time, I knew then who I was. I came out to close friends and family shortly afterwards. The best of them had known about my sexuality for years, so it was nice and easy. It has taken a couple of relationships for me to fully embrace myself. I’m very happy and proud of who I am.

Lesbian

when i was in 7th grade i was confused why all my celebrity crushes were female. I asked my friends that was it normal to have all female crushes. They didn’t know what to say. Time went by and then i had my first non-celebrity crush. Then i did the test and it said im bisexual. But i lied to myself that i like boys too. I’ve always been attracted to girls but i didn’t realize that. So finally i was sure that I’m not straight and i told my friends that I’m bisexual. Then i started to watch Wynonna Earp and that made me realize that im into girls only. So i came out to my friends as lesbian.
It took me a very long time to come out to my family but my sister, brother and dad were supportive. only my mom was like “it will go away”. Now i have been out over a year and im very happy and proud to be a lesbian.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent.

I’m bisexual with a chick bent. I discovered myself as such when I entered my first year of high school. Our sexual orientation, we’ve had it since birth. It’s just that it can take time to discover ourselves and to assume it, and to say it around us when the urge comes to us. Even though I’m almost 17, I haven’t told my family yet because I’m afraid of their reaction (even if I assume it completely). Only my friends know it and for the moment it’s enough for me. I will surely tell them when I turn 18 with the freedom of a young adult. You shouldn’t deny yourself or be afraid of being because of what you are deep down inside. It is preferable to look for yourself to be the most beautiful person possible. What I just wrote may not be understandable with my spelling mistakes and everything else 😅 but for the moment I feel happy. I hope this text will help other people because time is an eternal present.

Lesbian

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

When I was 7 (1987) I had my 1st crush on my art teacher. She was absolutely gorgeous. The word gay or lesbian wasn’t even a thought because I didn’t have the resources like today. No internet, only a few tv channels, no magazines or books. I brushed it off like it was normal for me and never spoke a word about it. I had a rough childhood because in my head I knew I’d never be able to talk to someone about it. It wasn’t until 95′ that I heard my 1st melissa Etheridge song. It opened me up to at least explore what I was going through. Things got a lot more complicated though. I knew I likes women but never thought of myself being gay or a lesbian. Those words were rarely used in my day to day life. Depression started in 2nd grade and still continues to this day. My worst enemy will always be my mind.
I didn’t officially come out until around 2009. I wrote an email to my family which was extremely difficult. They all knew but were waiting for me to come out. I was bringing my girlfriend home with me to meet my family. They all excepted me for who I was and excepted her as well.
Definitely one of the hardest times of my life. I still keep my personal life to myself especially at work. As much as I say I don’t care what people think, I actually do. It’s been a hard road of depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempts and lots of crying. I feel like I’ll never find someone. No matter the age, its definitely a struggle.

I’m a women who is in love with all women

I guess I’ve always known but at the age of 15 I gave in to the idea that I was really into a girl that had been my online friend for about 3 years. I met her when she pretended to be boy on twitter, which really hurt me when I found out because I thought I fall for a pretty boy and in the end he turned out to be a pretty girl. That’s really fucked up but It took me some weeks to get into the idea that I actually had feelings for a girl, and it was okay. It was not until 2018 that I came out with my friends, which was really hard because we went to a very religious high school and they were pretty conservative; but it turned out just fine. For sure the most difficult thing was to come out to my family, which took me another year and on November 2019 I told my father that I was into girls, it turned out okay too. Though it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be coming out, I’m still finding out how to have a conversation with my mother about it, she has heard it from my sisters and my father, and she really struggled to accept me, but still I can’t bring up the courage I need to just speak to her.
For me, sex or love the same sex wasn’t as hard to accept as the idea of a mother not loving her child for choosing what really makes her happy. To all the parents out there, it’s not you business who your child fucks or love as long as it make them happy.