Community Rainbow Waves

Elizabent91

I was at my Year 7 (middle school) camp when i first noticed that the 3 girls in my cabin were all talking about how hot Tom Felton was. I couldnt care less. I had a few guys that i liked in my early teens, but as soon as i imagined anything phisical happening i would notice again and again that i didnt like the thought. I reached the end of Year 11 (Junior year) and the Teacher for our Communities and Families subject asked us to pick any topic that we had covered that year and do a case study on it. The topic i chose was the only topic i knew little about, a marginalised group in society called Gay and Lesbian (or LGBT). It was only a concept to me, all i knew was that it ment that people of that label had a sexual attraction to the same sex. I knew of a couple of token characters and personalities in the media but nothing significant and certainly no one in my own life. It crept up on me over the course of a couple of months. Luckily my mother didnt care, my 14 year old brother said “so what?” My dad told me he has been friends with the lead of a lesbian band here in Sydney for many years. None of my immidiate friends and family really cared and accepted me fully. Why was it that while i became interested in dating and a relationship at 12, it took me 5 years to fully realise why i wasnt interested in guys? It was because i had very little representation or exposure in the media (heteronormativity)
and in life to different sexualities and genders. The queer characters i had after coming out were nothing like me. Jack from Dawsons Creek, The L Word and Willow and Tara from Buffy. This is my coming out story. I turn 30 in a few months and only now feel like i am represented in the media. Dominique’s work as Waverly Earp and with Start the Wave makes me feel seen. I finally have a place to belong. “To be me.”

First Clue… Crush on the Flying Nun

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.

Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.

First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.

Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.

Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.

Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.

Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.

Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!

Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…

Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.

Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”

Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”

There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.

I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.

Bisexual (I think)

I developed my first ever crush on a girl October of 2019, in my second year of high school. I’ve only ever had one crush before, and it was on a boy. Liking this girl scared me more than anything else I have ever known, and I still like her. I didn’t really know what to do, but I eventually told a friend who it was and I felt better. What’s weird is that I ran away before I could see a reaction. I guess I thought she would be disgusted. But she wasn’t. I then told my best friend because I felt like it was eating me up inside that she didn’t know. We were hanging out and she was talking about this boy she liked and the whole time I was thinking it’s now or never. I told her I like someone, and of course she wanted to know because I never like anyone. I almost started crying trying to tell her, hoping it wouldn’t change anything between us. I finally told her the name of the girl and she just smiled. She wasn’t mad. I was terrified. But she was okay. And I am okay. I told another friend a few weeks later. I was insanely nervous about this one because I honestly felt like she would become immediately uncomfortable. I was with the first friend I told and I kept avoiding it. But I did it.
Last week however, I decided to tell my sister. This TERRIFIED me. My sister is not at all homophobic but I felt like I couldn’t breathe just by thinking about telling her. She kept asking who I like, and I finally said it. It was weird. It still kind of is. She doesn’t treat me different or anything, I just thought we would talk about it a bit more. But it’s okay.
And that’s it. I am out as a bisexual to the 4 people closest to me.

Aly

On some level, I always knew I was different. I knew that I wasn’t as “boy crazy” as all my friends growing up. Due to various outside forces at play, including (but not limited to) family, peers, church, and small town disdain of queer identities, I never allowed myself to explore the possibility that I was a lesbian.

That all changed when I graduated high school and moved 2 hours away to college. Geographically, I was still in close proximity to my family; socially, however, I was a world away from the “hick town” of my upbringing. While in college, I joined both a sorority AND the rugby club team. I met queer women of many identities and walks of life in both organizations.

Once I realized that the sometimes all-too-typical media portrayal of “butch” lesbians were not the only way to be queer, all the mental puzzle pieces clicked into place. (I feel as though I should interject here and sing the praises of butch lesbians for the wonderful, beautiful beings that they are. That’s just not an identity I have ever associated with myself, therefore it took me some time to understand that one could be a lesbian without also being perceived as masculine.)

Once I came out to myself (thanks in no small part to the Spashley and Otalia ships, as well as the movies Blue Crush and Bring It On) and started dating my first girlfriend, there was really no looking back. I finally understood the butterflies my friends talked about when referencing their first kisses with their respective boyfriends. It was with SO MUCH relieve that I realized I was neither crazy nor broken….just gay!

I still live just outside of my old college town, working as a nurse. My beautiful wife, who had her own coming-out struggles involving her very Mexican/Catholic family, is working as a local high school teacher. Every day that I wake up and get to live life alongside the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, I thank my lucky stars that I found the courage to accept and live my truth.

Lesbian, Queer

I always knew I was different from other girls. Different from my peers. I was an only child who grew up around college professors, spiritualists, and artists. My parents taught me that the most important thing in life was to always seek knowledge. That one of the most insidious dangers was anyone or anything that demanded you to OBEY without asking questions. But that still got buried while I was trying to survive the public school system in Idaho (very conservative).

Teenagers, especially teen girls, can be BRUTAL to anything that is different. I was already weird enough for wanting to do well in my classes, communicating well with adults, and being an artist. Adding “why no I don’t think Johnny is cute but I think his sister is gorgeous” to the mix seemed impossible. Seemed terrifying. So I sat on it. I laughed at queer jokes. I ate the poison dished out by my peers and it made me sick every day. It wasn’t until college that I started feeling more comfortable with being queer.

Coming out for me came in many steps. My first girlfriend in high school. Telling my friends when I needed support because she wanted to stay in the closet and it was killing me. Telling my peers because I was in pain after my break up and I was too bitter to stay quiet. Telling my parents. Telling my coworkers. Turning down jobs that paid more but fostered an anti queer environment that would force me back in the closet. Not lying when someone asked me if I was queer.

It’s still hard, especially on days when I have to listen to someone spewing poison about how much they hate anyone in the LGBTQ+ community. I imagine there will be more steps in my journey but with each one, it gets a little easier.

Gay

I realised around the age of 17 I was attracted to women. I’d always had guy friends, but never felt a physical attraction towards them like my friends had. Little did I know at the time my nickname at school Lizzy the Lezzy, after that popular Facebook page would soon be realistic. I guess gaydar really is a thing. Moving from school into college I was suddenly in a world of, “it’s okay not to be straight” and this is where I met my first girlfriend. It’s now 4 years later and although I am still learning daily about myself it’s a bloody great feeling to be out and proud. And for those that may not be in a situation to come out at the moment, or are still questioning themselves the best advice I can give is take your time and love your own skin! Self discovery is a journey, your own journey! The community has lived in darkness for too long, now it’s our turn to shine.

YJT, Taiwan

I’d love to start with the reflection on Dom’s inspiring story. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate … I just want to say that Dom has almost expressed what I had in my mind in the past few years ever since I started dating girls. I come from a family that seems “democratic,” as my parents always put it, but to me, in some way, my family is quite conservative. I don’t blame them. Actually, at first, I blame myself because I’ve tried to live up to my parents’ expectations through my life. I don’t want them to see me differently, ’cause I’m too afraid to look into those eyes, as if telling me that I did something wrong or trying to show me that I just lost myself, got bad friends… you’ll find a better life after you pull yourself back to the “normal” part of the world…something like that. Also, my parents care so much about their reputation and afraid that if there’s “rumors,” our life might be affected in a way they don’t expect. And I can’t bear to see their hurtful expressions. So I just couldn’t…
Nonetheless, after reading Dom’s story, I suddenly felt energized by courage and hopes. The positive values Dom’ shared were mostly what I tried to share with people in my everyday life. And I couldn’t be happier to see people sharing the same positive values, causing positive ripples, since positivity is one of my core values.
So here I am to share my story… even though I haven’t come out to my parents, but I know some day I will…

To most of my friends, I’m the kind of person who brings them joy and be there when they need someone to talk to or rely on. I love to see people smile, laugh, their happy faces, even though I might not be the reason. But anyway, I truly enjoy the moment bringing happiness to others and sharing positivity.
I’m the kind of person who reflects on myself almost anytime, anywhere, especially on the emotional and mental part since I’m kind of a good observer in people’s emotions. I tend to observe people’s expression, gestures, and emotions, whether stranger or not. Then I would start to wonder what caused the emotion. Maybe out of curiosity, or maybe it’s just for the reminder for me to be a better self.
About more than half a year ago, I ended a four-year unhealthy relationship with a woman. Along the way in the relationship, I kept reflecting on the life we lived and the values we shared. It turned out that it just couldn’t work out. But it’s okay. Every argument, every breakdown has led me to see what matters most to me. Even though it’s kind of the hardest moment in my life so far, I’m still working hard to gather myself together while at the same time enjoying bring joys to people around me, for happiness is my motivation to move forward.
After the end of the relationship, the sudden emptiness struck me, which gave me plenty of time on introspection. So I started to contemplate the life I lived in the almost past 30 years (yeah I’m about to turn 30 in April), if I could remember. In the past, like Dom said in her story, I focused on boys, without realizing I’m also attracted to girls. I know I enjoy being close friends with them, but what I didn’t know is that they did attract me. I remembered clearly when my high school classmate, a boy I think I adore at that time, asked me if I was into some girl in our class; I denied firmly and felt hurt. I was so afraid to be labeled as weirdo or someone that doesn’t fit into the mainstream and also afraid of not going to get a boyfriend on the thought of people might think I’m into women. I didn’t know what I really like or want back then.
Now I know, I just want to be someone that can love freely, whether boys or girls, what matters most is I’m true to myself, to my heart. I just want to enjoy my everyday life, make my life as colorful as possible, for I don’t want to have regrets.
I enjoy being myself, no matter when, especially the sincerity people feel in me when we get along. I enjoy helping others, not to expect anything in return, but a happy smile on their face can make my day. 🙂 I enjoy living a colorful life and cherish every happy moment. As Dom said, “When we’re happy, we shine.” I’d like to shine as brightly as I can and bring happiness and share positivity to those I meet. Let’s shine together!

I am here, and I am queer.

When I was really young, in kindergarten and elementary school, I used to wear whatever I felt comfortable in. I had no concept of gender and no concept of sexuality. As I got older, into middle school and high school, I started realizing that I was somehow “different” than everyone around me. I didn’t look like other girls in my class, and while I did try my best to wear what everyone around me was wearing, I never felt like I was “pulling it off”. I would try my best to be as feminine as I could, but it never really stuck and it certainly didn’t feel like me. I never cared if the boys thought I was cute, and I always got super self conscious around my girlfriends.

It wasn’t until high school that everything clicked. I realized like a flip of a light switch I wasn’t into men, but rather women. For a long time I tried to suppress that side of myself because the idea of forever being “different” terrified me. Many nights I spent awake, thinking of ways to undo it or talk myself out of it. Unfortunately, a few of my peers caught wind of my realization and soon I was outed to the entirety of my high school. At first I was absolutely terrified, but there wasn’t anything I could do at that point. I made the choice to claim it and own it (which I know is way easier said than done in some situations). It felt like a silver lining to me that everyone knew and I didn’t have to say the words, because I still hadn’t accepted it truly and I still wasn’t okay with it deep down.

It wasn’t until I made it to college and found a safe queer space that I realized just how truly incredible all of these amazing people around me were. After so much sole searching and simplifying of my life, I was finally able to genuinely accept who I was. Half way through college I started struggling a lot with the idea of gender. I thought, by being gay, it would make sense that I had more of a masculine demeanor (you know, stereotypes and all).

Oh how I was wrong.

These incredible people around me, coupled with amazing representation online, helped me to understand that even though our society genders absolutely everything, it doesn’t mean you have to label yourself as one. See it never felt right for me to call myself a “girl” and it definitely didn’t feel right calling myself a “boy” either. I was so confused thinking I had to put myself in a box so everyone around me felt comfortable. But the truth is, I don’t need to be either male or female, that being a person who is kind and honest is far more than good enough.

It’s incredible spaces like these that bring me so much pride and make it so much easier to say that I am apart of this beautiful community. That sexuality and gender can exist in all their fluidity, or they can not exist at all. That labeling yourself is an option in this world, but it certainly doesn’t have to be a requirement. Mostly, I’ve realized that being gentle with the world and the people in it, no matter the struggle, is far too under-appreciated.

I hope each and everyone of you, no matter how hard or easy your journey has been (or is currently), find nothing but love and support.

With all my love, Casey (KS, USA)
I am gay. I am genderqueer. I am here.

Pansexual female

I came out as bisexual when I was 12 because my knowledge of things like pansexuality was really limited. It wasnt till I was 13 that I realized I was pan. I knew that I would be accepted by my family but I was still scared. Like, once I told everyone it would be a reality. I knew I liked girls when I would look more at girls in movies and I would desperately try to find a boy to tell my friends I liked. I fell in love with my best friend which is such a trope but moving on, it was watching TV shows that I really found my home (if that makes sense). It was watching shows like Glee, Wynonna Earp, and One Day at a Time that I found my confidence. I think the hardest part of it all was learning to accept myself and dealing with hiding a part of myself. Now I’m 15 though, I spend time working on ways to make other people feel accepted and safe. I think the main thing that is really helped me is seeing lgbtq+ people on TV and normalizing it.

I am whatever I say I am

June 13, 2020 9:35 p.m. “I’m gay”. I came out to half of my family in a text. I don’t believe there is or ever was a god but I do believe people can be cruel and unfair. I live in a pretty small town in Illinois mostly everyone is religious. But if there is a higher power then how come we don’t get a say in how we want to live our lives. Or if you are gay you go to hell but you get to chose who you love. Then how come you don’t get to tell them you love them. I say people are cruel because I am a thirteen year old female and I fear that people wouldn’t understand me because of who I chose to love. When I was 11 years old I panicked because I liked one of the girls in my class. I still get butterflies when I talk to her. She makes me laugh and she challenges me which I love.To quote a movie” Love is messy and horrible and selfish… and bold. It’s not finding your perfect half. It’s the trying and reaching and failing.” Life sucks but when we find someone who makes it suck just 0.0000000000000001 % less why can’t we decide to love them whoever they are or however they present themselves. You should not have to lie to make other people happy. You should be able to tell whomever you want whenever you want whatever. So, this is my story, well the true beginning anyways, so what’s your. And if you want you can share it. I am gay. I am bisexual. I am pan sexual. I am what ever I say I am. Nobody gets to say differently.