Community Rainbow Waves

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

I’m autistic and queer…

It is exceedingly difficult in itself having a condition like autism that has made you different since you are born. It is difficult to be singled out as a child as different, and to be judged for your behavior, for the way you communicate, for how you think or see the world. But, how difficult it is, when growing up you realize that autism was not your only difference but also who you have been attracted to. It is a very lonely journey, doubly judged, where anxiety, fears take over you. Feeling confused, that you do things wrong, is a very heavy burden. but, you have to be brave, brave to assume who we really are. Assuming that the way you process the world is not wrong, nor who you decide to love. The journey through life is uphill, but not because of what they will say you must stop being you.

Pansexual female

I started by telling my twin and it turned out she was pansexual as well which was a funny coincidence. My family was open and accepting which was really fantastic. When I realized I was pan when I was about 11 and came out when I was 12. I knew that I wanted to create a place where other people could feel safe and accepted because I realized not everyone had that. My friends and I teamed up with guidance conselors and had endless meetings with the principle and other administrators to create a GAS in the school. We were successful and now 2 year later we still have that club running even after we left. I knew that I would be accepted when I came out and I just wanted to make sure that that kind of feeling was felt by the other LGBTQ+ kids in my school that felt alienated

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

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

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.

Gay

I forced myself to have a crush on a boy because everyone else had one so that’s what I did. Little did I know that I was crushing on girls that were older than me and I didn’t even know it. I thought it was normal to feel that way so I never thought anything of it. I was always nervous and my face would always fluster because I was attracted to them. I remember when I was in 7th grade someone had asked me what my sexuality was and at that time I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t even know what gays and lesbians or even being bi was. So when I told them I was bi I didn’t really know what it meant so I just stuck with it. But a few days after that they ended up telling my whole class that I was bi. Every second that I had I denied everything because I was so scared of what people would think about me or if they would treat me differently. I was in a catholic school so it was never normal or shown so I denied every second of it. Until I moved schools and I saw diversity and I found out what sexuality was. That’s when I actually noticed that I was paying more attention to the girls rather than the boys. I made up what I thought were real crushes with boys and then I started realize that I liked girls the entire time. But of course I was always in denial of it. I even went online to take the ‘am I gay quiz’ I took so many of them, every single one of them came out positive. Even after all that I denied it I didn’t want anything to do with it because I was scared of it.
I remember one day my mom was taking me to soccer practice and she ended up talking to me about labels. And she started explaining to me about how my older sister thought that she was gay and that putting labels on things is what makes it become real. It sounded like my mom knew about me and basically told me I was full of crap for thinking the way I was even though I hadn’t told her anything about me. At this time I had a girlfriend and everything so I just brushed that conversation off. But but it made me feel insecure a little bit. It made me feel like I was stupid for falling for a girl and that it was fake like it was child’s play. So I hid my relationship the best way I could publicly and at home. I never really came out to my mom but now I’m growing into it and finally accepting myself for who I am. And it makes me shine brightly and especially to know that I wasn’t alone in this, that other people had been going through the same thing I was or am.

Queer

I knew I was apart of the community my freshman year of highschool when, no matter what I did I couldnt take my eyes off the girl who sat one seat up and to the right of me. It was something I couldn’t fight. I barely knew her aside from her name, but when she wasnt in class I noticed, when she didnt laugh at my jokes like the other 25 kids it didnt seem as funny to me anymore. I couldnt get her to laugh and I was determined and honestly I never did, what made her laugh was out teacher telling me to “leave the poor girl alone” that make her laugh.
When she smiled, I knew.
I grew up in church my entire life, and when I spent weeks thinking about her and trying to come up with jokes, I also spent weeks beating myself down and praying.
I wouldn’t come out for another year to my friends and they all accepted me and I was happy, I felt free. Two years later I was successfully making that same girl smile but now I had to grow some and ask her out. Two years later and she ended up sitting one row up to the right of me again in history class our junior year. I remember just staring at her the entire period, and then pretend I wasnt looking and blush really hard.
A year later I guess i finally said the right thing because we started to date. Yes ive been out for sometime by then, but being with her made me feel invincible. I felt comfortable walking down the streets of nyc holding my beautiful girlfriends hand still telling corny jokes.
All that would dissipate when I went home. My mom found out a year later and she hasnt seen me the same since. We’ve physically fought, she barely talks to me.
When I am home I am a shell but as soon as I am out of those four walls I am a giant of pride and happiness and alive.
Honestly the only reason I really survived it was because aside from being “home,” I get to be myself. My home is with my (still going strong) girlfriend, my amazing friends and the amazing lgbtq+ family.
Im just surviving and one day ill move out of here and then can I fully start to live my life to the fullest.

Truth

All of the coming out stories on this site encouraged me to write what follows and post it on my website and social media. Thank you to one and all for speaking their truth and in doing so, reminding me how important it is to own our truth and for me, stand publicly in my truth.

I have never officially come out of the closet. I also never sat my parents down to explain my sexuality. It never felt right to me, I would not explain having a boyfriend so why would I explain having a girlfriend. The idea felt degrading and separatist. I brought my girlfriend home from college and we slept in the same room. My parents have always been accepting and supportive and this was no different. Eventually conversations occurred with my parents and we all acknowledged my having a girlfriend in college and in high school it was boyfriends. That was it, and the love and support I expected and desired has always been there. With time and life experiences I recognize how blessed I have been to have such parents.

By my sophomore year at college I had a serious girlfriend. We were not out to everyone, but we were not hiding. We essentially lived together and hung out with mutual friends. College felt freeing to me, having grown up in a small town in Western Kansas where EVERYONE knew everything, or it seemed. Unfortunately, college was also my first experience where I discovered what it is like to be judged and attacked for my sexuality. I was outed by an instructor and several peers. The derisive gossip was meant to attack and shame me, to what end I do not know. Action taken, I assume, because I was different and that apparently made me a threat. Again, one of those people who outed me was a college instructor… The lesson I took was to become smaller and less of a threat, and it worked.

I became a professional horse trainer and riding instructor; a career path that is heavily dominated by men with women predominantly the clientele, a world built on traditional conservative values. In this role I had to be as tough as a man and as feminine as I could be in appearance to survive; I worked hard and found success and continued to hide in plain sight. My inner circle knew, I just did not blatantly flaunt my relationships in the workplace. However, on occasion, I experienced people finding out and attempting to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. They were never even my clients. Somehow, being a woman and loving a woman was a threat to some. I find it confusing, the horses never seemed bothered and my students grew their riding skills. Shouldn’t that be enough? Wasn’t that my job?

Over the last several decades I have been asked to go back into the closet surprisingly frequently. One such request was from a partner. For her, I embraced a much higher level of privacy and seclusion, embracing dishonesty about my truth. I justified it to myself for her benefit as she was struggling with her own sexuality, and I knew what it is like to be outed and attacked. This choice came at a cost. I slowly but surely chipped away at my own value and self-worth. When you add the shift in our culture toward more blatant violence being taken against the LGBTQ+ community, it is no wonder I find myself hesitating to come out of my cave and stand tall.

During this pandemic, I have had some extra time on my hands and have continued the process of self-discovery and awakening. In 2016 I had a health scare, a little bit of breast cancer, which started me on a path of embracing life at an elevated level. I have explored regrets, past relationships, work choices, friendships, the list goes on. Recently I have been addressing my sexuality in depth. It seems strange to do at 51… After my last breakup I tried to talk myself into being straight, didn’t work. I have sought a label to fit in, frankly because it seems easier to find community and answer questions. The truth is that I do not fit a specific label, I am not gay, straight or bisexual. I like men, but I truly prefer women. Like many, I have struggled with understanding the diverse array of labels I have come across and what they all mean. Finally, I have landed on the belief that they, much like me, are trying to find a simple way to describe and understand themselves and maybe find others who are similar. It is hard to find community and mentors if you cannot describe yourself or see yourself in others. Visibility matters. Voice matters. Being acknowledged matters. Being seen, really seen matters.

Today I am choosing to officially come out of the closet. I am guessing the closest I will get to a label is calling myself queer, but I still do not prefer labels… I am so much more than this one word. I am a woman, driven, a leader, compassionate, an empath, a warrior, a facilitator, a healer, a horse trainer, a people trainer and coach, an aunt, a daughter, a professor, a humorist, an author, a story teller, a nature lover, a dog mom, a dancer…. and I am queer. I must speak my truth and be fully congruent. If I am not congruent, I am not whole. I deserve to live an entirely whole life embodying my full truth. I am most at ease and entirely in my power when I am my truth. I want to be the mentor for that person who feels alone and know it is possible to be fully embodied and live your truth. Self-acceptance gifts us with self-confidence, which empowers us. The job or client I do not get because of this statement, I do not want. No more tainted money. I am a better facilitator, teacher, trainer and human being because of who I am and what I have experienced in my life. I deserve to give you the best of me and you deserve to receive my best. That means I must stand fully in MY power.

I am here and I am reaching my hand out. To my cousin – I am sorry I did not know you, did not know that you were suddenly a teenager forced to survive life and the streets because of who you are. I am so grateful to know you today, to love you and count you as my family. I do not want to fail another. To those who simply need to know they are not alone, I am here with you. I stand beside you and see your light. To those who need a hand, I am here and will steady the ladder. To those who need to be witnessed or heard, my eyes and ears are open. May we all as a community, young and not so young, stand together and raise our voices. May we rise and be the mentors we dreamed of to create a better world for us all; every shade of the rainbow deserves to be seen and honored.

Cathy

Well I don’t really know… if i’m gay or bisexual

When i was 13, i played truth or dare with some friends, and i had to kiss a girl. And then i knew it, because i feel it inside of me. I feel like … a big strenght inside me. And two years after, I had my first girlfriend, but we were hidding ourselves. And when i arrived to high school i discovered new peoples, some where gays, most of them were straight. But i wasn’t alone anymore. And today i’m still confused about who i’m attracted. My family doesn’t know about my sexuality, i’m just not ready to be out. My friends know that i love girls, and they’re fine with it.
But i had some period where being lost was very hard to live. Now i’m cool with it, i just took the time to accept the fact that i’m confused.
Clara (a french girl)