Community Rainbow Waves

Barbara

I think I’ve always known that I am a lesbian. When I was 14 years old I already had my first girlfriend. I enthusiastically told this to my parents, who unfortunately looked at it with slightly different eyes than I did. My mother grew up in a very religious family, so my sexuality didn’t fit the picture. This caused a lot of insecurity for me, and I was bullied at school and this resulted in a period of anxiety attacks. Fortunately my parents now support me in everything. I have learned to accept myself for who I am and I AM surrounded by people who also accept me for who I am. Only when you love yourself and can be yourself can you love someone else and I have been happy with my beautiful girlfriend for 6 years now. So don’t be scared if you love another humanbeing. Just be and love yourself. You have so much to give.

Lesbian

Hi, I’m Zoe and engaged to the most beautiful and inspiring women on the planet. I truly love her with all my heart and can’t wait to marry her.

But let’s back up a bit, before I met her; I was like all of you (those that aren’t out yet) – struggling in my teens coz I felt different about women and I did try to hide it for a while but a part of you, just wants to be free. I managed to conceal it for quite a few years but I guess I came to a point in my life where I just said… ENOUGH! I just want to be me!

There is always going to be that doubt when your not out. Is my family going to except me? What if I come out and nobody likes me? But don’t listen to the negativity and embrace the positivity.

Fortunately my family and friends are very accepting and so it wasn’t that difficult to come out to my parents – I was more scared to tell my nanas. But like my parents and family – they love me for me and are happy if I’m happy.

So I’ve never been comfortable meeting someone in a bar, shop etc. So that’s when I ventured into LGBTQ online dating. I have in the past been on all the dating sites to meet men but this time, it was a brand new experience.
I actually signed up for a site called ‘compatible partners’. Didn’t know what to expect but much like the other websites, it was quite easy to get the hang of.
Talked back and forth with a few girls for about 2-4 months and was feeling like I should start to give up when I saw a picture of what looked like an angel. I just knew I had to message her, even if I got nothing back. Within a week, she replied and we hit it off straight away. We messaged for a while on the website, then exchanged email, Facebook and eventually phone numbers. I couldn’t believe my luck and still can’t every day. I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Back when we met, I was living in north east England and she was living outside of London so roughly 4 hours drive between us. But I thought screw it, I owe it to myself to meet this person because if not I will regret it for the rest of my life.
First date consisted of me driving down to her and turning up on her doorstop (heart pounding & butterflies in my stomach). There was a lot of mixed feelings that day, was I good enough for her? She’s slim and beautiful, what if she sees me and thinks I’m ugly, fat etc? I won’t bore you with it all, but was also so excited to meet the person I’d been chatting too for 6-8 months too. Felt like it had been a lot longer talking and I’d known her my whole life. Up until this point, we had only exchanged photos so it literally could of been anyone when I turned up there. (So girls, be careful!)

Thankfully she was who she said she was and we hit off straight away. We did long distance for about 6 months and then I decided I wanted to move to be with her. I was looking for that change and needed to start my life and move out of my parents, so really she came along at the perfect timing.
The rest is kind of history now. Every day is a blessing with her and I always feel grateful to have her by my side.
We plan to get married October 2021.
One piece of advice to those who who have yet to come out or even out but struggling still…
Don’t give up, your time will come.
Be you. Be proud & trust in yourself.

Thank you

I am OUT!! #OutIsTheNewIn

Gay and loving it

I first figured out I was different at 17, or thereabouts. Growing up, I was very into church and religion, and I was determined to never disappoint my Grandma. I should point out that I was extremely close to my Grandma, and I wanted to remain one of her favourites.

So I was determined to hide any idea of it.

Anywho, when my Grandma passed towards the end of 2016, I was struggling with a lot (depression and anxiety can be a witch) and I shoved the “I’m attracted to girls, I’m gay” so far down it wasn’t gonna see the light of day for ages.

That kinda didn’t work… (Surprise, surprise)

Following intense medication and therapy, I plucked up the courage to tell my counsellor, while panicking that something was wrong with me (internalised religious homophobia dies that)

My counsellor was great, and helped me to see it was my new normal. So I decided to write a letter to my oldest brother, coming out to him and my sister-in-law. I have never been particularly close to him (there’s 10 years difference) but his acceptance made me cry.

After a while, I plucked up the courage to tell my best friend. Admittedly she already knew. Apparently I didn’t hide it very well.

Thankfully she knew I was would be nervous about telling my parents, more so my mother. We spent weeks dissecting everything, and she gave me the confidence to tell my parents.

Dad already knew (I did a bad job hiding, evidently) and Mum was shocked. It hasn’t been easy, Mum has had to revise everything she thought she knew about me.

Now though, I’m comfortable enough to say, I’m gay.

A bisexual woman and proud

My story is a little backwards! I thought I was gay when I was about 13, I had a few crushes at school (I went to an all girls school, so there were many). I didn’t tell anyone until I was in my last year when I started to go out with this girl. She however was uncomfortable dating girls so it was a very secretive relationship.

At a party one night she kissed some guy and I got really upset and ended up kissing one of my friends boyfriend (I know stupid). Anyway that ex-friend then phoned my parents to tell them I was gay and bullied me for saying I was, not fun. Thankfully my parents were supportive, but being a family that don’t talk about relationships I had no idea how they were going to react.

I am so thankful to come from a supportive family, and to have had some supportive friends who helped me through this. It was a traumatic experience for a 17 year old.

Anyway, when I went to uni I feel in love with a guy, which was definitely a shock for someone who thought she was very gay. I had to then come out to all my friends and family again it was pretty funny! I had never really thought of bisexuality as a thing until then!!

That Tall Redhead – CONTENT WARNING: This coming out story contains description and/or discussion about self-harming behaviour and suicide.

Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.

Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.

My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.

Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.

At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.

I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.

When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.

I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?

Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.

So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.

Best regards,

That Tall Redhead <3

Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

Gayer than a fruit loop, but too young to love.

I first started questioning my sexuality when I was 11. My grandma had just passed and I was severely depressed. I realised that I liked dressing more masculine, and in what I know see was a way too hide that I was gay, I decided that I was probably trans. I started going by the name Sam and started wanting to cut my hair. I even tried to bind my chest (in very unsafe ways) and I thought that I was depressed because I had gender dysphoria. After about a year I realised that I was just really fucking gay. So, I decided to lived my truth in a very homophobic school and it was the best choice I ever made.

I started coming out at twelve by mentioning it slightly in conversations, mostly by denying attraction to boys rather than admitting my love for women.

This year i turned 15 and after two gay relationships and after being out for three years Im still uncomfortable with my sexuality. I hate to say it and I wish it wasn’t like that, but my class mates and and the society we live in has pushed the ‘predatory lesbian’ stereotype on me for so long that it’s hard to forget.

I’ve recently decided that I will try to wear my pride bracelet in a way of showing who I am with out having to say something. And most importantly it serves as a small reminder for me that, no matter what my classmates say, being gay is 100% okay and that I’m so fucking proud of being a part of this community.

Good Afternoon from the tip of South Africa, Cape Town

My name is Melissa. I am a 36-year-old woman and have always been lesbian. My story is slightly different to many of the stories I’ve read on this site and would like to represent the LGBTQ stories that closely represent mine; my reason – I have not yet come across a story reflecting my journey.

My sexual orientation was very clear to me at the age of 5. It wasn’t a case of ‘i knew’, in fact, I had no idea that homosexuality was a term nor that it was deemed unacceptable in many worldly societies. I was simply being me. It was perhaps later when a fellow classmate mouthed a question to me; “What, are you lesbian?” that I realised, ah! people aren’t okay with this. It was not about the words she used but the tone and body language she used to express her disdain. I never hid my sexual orientation; I was far too confident of that. I was so confident that I had prepared myself mentally that when the day came that, I would inform my family and friends, I was ready to leave them behind because I was not willing to sacrifice a part of me for the sake of protecting the dignity and pride of others. At 16, I came out. At 18 I came out to the entire high school and not one person cared that I had nor were phased by the big step; I like to believe it is because I was confident and so in touch with myself that I would not allow the world to convince me that being me was actually wrong. Perhaps they felt that energy, perhaps they respected it or perhaps they really just didn’t care that I am attracted to women – I’ll never know. What I did learn was, always choose you first and support that strongly; there is only one you and for those that do not serve you well, walk away. Speak about your sexual orientation with normality; we attract what we reflect about ourselves to others – everything in life is a mirror.

Queer all the way

I realised when I was 29. But this was a cognitive type of realising as my heart already knew for a long time. I grew up watching straight couples in movies and tv-shows. These were the characters the viewer was supposed to identify with. I tried dating men and everybody around me just assumed I was heterosexual. I dated men who I thought were intelligent, attractive and kind. But my heart always said NO. One day a bisexual woman told me about her journey. Her story liberated something inside of me. I opened up… to myself, to the world and to new ideas. How could I not have seen that I was into women all the time? Yes, I like girls! This is me!

I am just me

I knew I was part of the community when I was 14 (I am 20now). I didn’t want to accept it because I didn’t want it. I was not surrounded by “people like that”, my friend with who I was passing my day was very close minded (not a friend anymore), my mom homophobic well was not good.
When I was 16 my friends ask me if I ever questioned my sexuality and with that question I felt in danger and said “no never why you ask?”
But the problem was in that group of friend I got a crush like I have never have on a girl. That was problematic…
I learn after that she was bi, and that the girls were fine with it.
The year after I drank too much at a party, told people that I was a lesbian …
I didn’t feel great after that I cried a lot whereas my friends were telling me it was great and that if they were lesbian they would want to date me.
Then I told my 2 bestest friends, they weren’t surprise at all, they said “well yes Lea obviously I knew it”
When they said that I felt In danger cause I was beginning to tell the people I felt comfortable, but was scared to be judge by others, and I didn’t want the people to know. I was wondering if somebody look at me if they would know.
High school was not great, didn’t feel right, I was not at my place, even if sometimes I was with the girl I had crushes on, and fatally fell in love with… even if we never had a relationship it has always been weird between us and still is a bit
This summer I dated a girl, I had to tell my mom….
Right after a surgery I told her, and she had the worst answer… she said nothing
She don’t like that, she is not ready to accept it.
I must not tell the family cause “it’s wrong they will judge” blabla
(Close minded family, thanks for my dad he is “only racist” (lol) but accept my sexuality)
At the university I m leaving great I feel good new people, nobody to judge we are way too many for the attention to be on me
Maybe I look at girls waaaaaay more that I look at boy maybe I m bi, maybe I am pan, maybe I am lesbian and don’t know I don’t want to know. It is not necessary for my well being all I know is that I am me and nobody is going to change that.
Thank you for reading that
Sending a Frenchy love