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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. 

 

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I Am A Work In Progress

I wish I knew from a young age that you should be your authentic self, that it is okay to be whoever you are. I’m now accepting of all kinds of colorful and different people.
Wish I could say the same about my country and my community.
I am from Georgia, the country not the US state, where people come from a very religious background. We have many old traditions and so everyone here is completely against the idea of
same-sex relationships. Growing up people around me always said how wrong it was to be different, I was taught to be a certain way. Around the news i saw lgbtq+ friendly places being raided by armed policmen, people being beat up and all kinds of riots and protests. I felt as if something was wrong with me. And so i started living in a world filled with so much hate, a world filled with negativity from myself and from others. Only when I started traveling ,and meeting all kinds of amazing and beautiful people, did I realize that it was okay to be your true self. I was always discouraged about seeking information regarding sensitive topics such as sexual orientation or gender identity, but I wanted to know more so I started reading about all kinds of people and about their stories. with time i was accepting of myself and others, realizing that it was completely okay to be attracted to only women. There’s still much for me to learn, so many people to meet and so many places to visit. And i wish that someday we can all live in a world overflowing with Love.

Carolina, 20, just trying to find out who I am.

Since I was 15 years old I thought there was something wrong with me. I never had a boyfriend in my life and it always made me wonder if there was really anything wrong with me. All the people around me were getting into relationships and I was still alone, because no one interested me or was not attracted to anyone (especially boys, which was the idea of ​​what I liked at the time). I started to question if I really liked boys or if girls attracted me more, but by putting that idea in my mind I knew that there would be a lot of people talking about me and making jokes about it and then immediately exclude that idea from my head , forcing me to be attracted to boys or the idea of ​​being with boys.
When I was 18, there was a boy who became interested in me and I, convinced that I had to convince others around me that I liked boys, ended up being with him for a month without feeling anything. It was nothing more than a friendship, but I wanted to deceive myself.
I spent the worst 4 years of my life hiding the pain I felt at not knowing what was wrong with me or who I was. It was the worst years I’ve ever had. I was lost, aimless, without anyone.
When I was 19, when I went to college, I completely changed my group of friends and started to get along with a lot of people from the LGBT + community and from then on I started feeling confident to start discovering who I am and I started to feel a little happier. I think that realizing that those people would never exclude me if I liked girls, made me start to question who I really like. I started to open up by talking to some people and clearly that I was attracted to girls. But I also continued to be attracted to some boys. And it was then that I realized that I could be bisexual. It was a difficult year, with many ups and downs, to discover who I am. My family has always given me the opportunity to like whoever I want, nothing would change with them if I liked girls and that made my life easier.
Nowadays, I still don’t really know what I am. I like boys and girls and that’s for sure. But, deep down, I think I like people for what they are and not for their gender. Therefore, I consider myself a path to my happiness and I just let love speak for itself.
My next step will be to come out to everyone who likes me for who I am and then to come out to the world. And when I find a way to do it, I’m sure I’ll be much happier.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.


 

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

I’m Libby and i have not found a label that i think perfectly fits me

i came out in October of 2017 to my parents.
i told my brother and sister before anyone else in august that year, then a few of my closest friends.
i wasn’t too sure of what label to come out with so when i spoke to my mum i said i was bisexual a thought it would be easier to come out with a known label.

it is now September of 2020, almost 3 years later and i am in a relationship with my amazing girlfriend, Rachael, who wasn’t out to anyone, infact when we met she didn’t even know she liked girls.
However, we’ve been together about a year and 8 months.
we have gone through our ups and downs by we are all round happy and in love.

i was personally helped a lot by Wynonna Earp and the representation on the show,
obviously the relationship between Waverly and Nicole and the way it began and grew amazingly, helped me
along with watching all the cast at conventions and the wayhaught panels.

I personally felt free after i came out and started to be true to who i was and i couldn’t have asked for a better more supporting family.
i was so lucky to have been brought up in this amazing accepting environment and i will always be immensely greatful to my family and friends.

i am unsure what my label is

bisexual?
queer?

i don’t know, but i do know i will be accepted and loved either way

as Dominique Provost- Chalkley put it “i guess i’m in love with love”

It will be okay.

I guess if I really think about it, I always knew I was bisexual…. But growing up, it would be either “you’re straight or you’re gay”, there’s no in between…. And I liked both genders, so what did that make me? I was really scared and didn’t want to be different, so I focused on the “straight side”…
But it wasn’t until last April that I started to really find myself. I guess what I really needed was to have the right people by my side, and I can’t express in words how thankful I am for them. They made me question what I really want and who I really am. I guess I was always so scared to think about it, but when I talked about it out loud for the first time, I felt so relieved…. So free… So myself… And since then it has been a journey. It still is. When I told my high school friends I didn’t know what they would think. They had questions (what I was expecting) but they took it really well.
I still haven’t told my family. I guess I’m still to afraid to do so. I know my mother would be really cool about it, and it wouldn’t be a surprise to my sister (I think she already knows..?), but I don’t know what my father would say… And my grandparents don’t really like queer people… And my family means the world to me.
So I guess I’m still finding my way, but at least I feel so much more confident in my own skin. I think coming out is a journey, one I’m taking at my own pace, but I know I’m gonna be okay in the end. And in the end, it doesn’t matter if I make it with a man or a woman, as long as I’m happy it shouldn’t matter what the otheres think.

Lesbian

I’m closed Lesbian. I’m living in the country is strictly Illegal for LGBTQ. But I’m happy with who I am.

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

QueerGay

So for the longest time I thought there was something wrong with me because I was attracted to women and my step dad didn’t support the LGBTQ community. I started having really bad anxiety and started feeling very depressed, I stop being myself. After almost a year, I started to learn more about the community and started to ignore other people’s opinions on the community. I started taking time and thinking about what really made me happy and what didn’t make me happy. I just wanted to be happy and be able to love who I wanted without being judged or even having to come out. After I discovered Wynonna Earp and saw Wayhaught is made me feel more comfortable with my sexuality. After reading Dom’s story it has helped me accept myself and now I am finally proud of who I am.

Christine H.

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.