Community Rainbow Waves

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.

I am pansexual

Well I came out when I was in 3ed grade so about 9 years old and I dint quite remember haw I told everyone but I remember camping with my older sister and brother who are also bothe gay and twins. We where only 3 years apart roughly and I met this girl that I just gruled over and both hannah and alex where like giving me shit about it bc I was super close to them and we talked about everything anyway we ened up having a cheesy kiss under the slide at the park near the lake and then ran 2 my mom gushing about it and she was like WOW THATS GRATE. Then when we left she said t ok her mom this is my new BOYFRIEND and I was like I’m not a boy and she never spoke to me agen but I naw new that I didn’t cair who new. Naw some advice the bigidt risk in life is never taking any cuz then you will never know. And sorry my spelling sucks.

Emotionally growing still

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE.

I was never like other girls growing up. All my friends were boy crazy around 9 and i just wasnt into any one but around middle school when i really became sexually aware i realized i didnt find myself looking at a boy thinking ‘oh he’s so cute.’ I found myself looking at girls. At sleep overs or any girl group get together was the worst. I didnt understand what they saw in guys. Girls were soo much prettier, but i kept my mouth shut and stayed in the back ground. I didnt understand them. At the time i was living in a foster home i had been in since i was 3 and was verbally and physically abused in by the male, his wife was religious and they were mormon, Most Mormons dont believe in being gay and they were part of them. Around the time i was figuring out my feelings my foster family had some one on their side come out as gay and they stoped taking to them which scared the hell out of me when they were who i lived with and all i had, if i changed homes i was terrified of not being able to see my mother who i was able to see. As i got older i started getting a crush on this girl and it made me feel guilty i felt like i was lying to everyone. One day i broke down talking to my mom. I couldnt take the feeling i had to tell someone and i knew i could trust her, my moms a pretty accepting person and always had been. I texted my mom on the bus ride home from school crying cause i felt like i was doing something so bad and i wasnt a bad kid. I dont remember what i told her but her reply was ‘we already knew ’ meaning her and my dad. I was so lucky cause i have friends who didnt have the best time. When i was 15 i moved in with my parents again and never told my foster family until last year the day i graduated. I bought tickets to go see my current girlfriend and i told them i was leaving to see my girlfriend and that was that. My family has all been very accepting and so thankful for that i couldnt ask for more.

Queer

I started thinking I was into girls when I entered 6th grade and this girl just made me feel different. I questioned my sexuality for while not really knowing if I just wanted to be her friend or if I liked her. And then after I finally knew I definitely like women I started wondering if I even liked boys plus now I knew there was also non-binary people and was so confused !
But I just wanted people to know I wasn’t straight so I came out to one of my friends when I was 14 and slowly people on my grade ever assumed I liked girls or heard it from someone. No one made fun of me or bullied me and I’m so grateful for all the lgbtqia people who made it possible for that to happen.

And last year I came out to my parents on my 16th birthday and they kind off already know my dad’s response was actually « we know you like girls » sooooo guess I wasn’t really subtle but I like to see it as my parents quietly watching grow and understand myself.

So yeah I’m pretty lucky and to be truthful the only real problems I’ve had are with my own insecurities. I just don’t really talk that much about my sexuality because it feels like I’m taking to much place so I have to sit through my straight brother explaining homophobia to me (and my family, he definitely an ally I just don’t always feel like I’ve experienced enough to actually debate about it with him )

I am so happy that there are safe spaces like this for the community and I just want to say that if the people around aren’t accepting of your sexuality they’re the problem and you are beautiful and strong and loved.

“I am enough”, Monica

I think I always knew but I denied the ever obvious signs or evidence or feelings that I had towards the same sex. By the time I did come out I had fooled the world all the while punishing and with-holding truth from myself. I came from a Republic and Catholic family and also when to Catholic School my entire life. Being told that what I was feeling was a sin and that I would most likely go to hell I quickly realized that I was worth nothing just because of those facts. As I grew I started to open my eyes to the outside world. To see the things I was always “forbidden” to see. To see beauty in something rather than the sin. I live in Seattle and when I was 21 I moved to So. Cal for a few years and it was then that I had my first kiss with a woman. It was like the darkness in me disappeared and the light that I always pushed down took its place. After a few years of So. Cal, I moved back home and had to face the truth and tell my family. I was 24 years old when I told my family and the hurt that was said, the worries, the pains, the agony, and torture came bubbling back up only to have be reinforced with a family member telling me “I wish you would’ve been a miscarriage.” Those words burned into absorbed my heart and mind for months.
I remember walking down the street one day and it hit me like a ton of bricks and for the first time in my life I asked myself “how can something like loving someone be wrong?” I then drove to my parents house and said “if you can’t accept me then you aren’t deserving enough to be apart of my life because I am a good person who desires the world to be its true authentic self in love.” Walked out didn’t speak to my family for a while after that.

I am lucky enough that my family did come around. I married my incredible wife when it first became legal in Washington State on December 8, 2012 and have never looked back. My family loves my wife as they do our two beautiful, strong, and determined daughters. I am so grateful for the road that has taken me to where I am though incredible painful, I am not sure I would be me if I hadn’t.

I so believe in this community because it is based on love. Something that should be seen, heard, and felt. I am so grateful and proud that I get to live my truth everyday. That I get to be the best of me because I now know that “I am enough.”

Queer

I was a freshman in high school when I realized that I liked both guys and girls. Most people always say that they always knew. But I didn’t. I found out that you can like the same sex when I was in middle school. The thought of me liking girls never really crossed my mind until the eighth grade. I had never been attracted to any girl at that point, but a little voice inside my head told me to explore that idea. So, I did my research. I took tests online, looking up ‘how do you know if you like girls’, and watched endless youtube videos on the subject. It wasn’t easy but I finally came to terms with my sexuality (thanks to Rose and Rosie for the help!). After I accepted this is who I am I told my best friend first, then my parents, then the rest of my friends. I still struggle with being proud, which is why only my parents know and not the rest of my family. But I’m thankful for such supportive parents and friends as well as the amazing representation on Wynonna Earp. It really helps normalize my feelings and makes me feel like I’m not alone, that there’s not anything wrong with me and that it’s ok to love who I love.

Because after all, love wins.

Here and queer 😉

At twelve I moved from primary to secondary school…to an all girls school the first few years were great, we were all pretty immature still, still played ‘tag’/’it’ in the playground. But then we started maturing and I found myself falling into the shadows. We’d all read the same books, watch the same films and tv shows then discuss like any normal teenage friendship group but while they’d gossip about how hot the main character was- Damon from ‘the vampire diaries’ for example or Theo James as Four in ‘divergent’, I couldn’t deny that these guys were attractive but I couldn’t understand why my friends were SO obsessed with them to the point where I thought they’d see me as different if I didn’t reciprocate the same thoughts. So I pretended. When in reality I had a huge crush on Tris (divergent) or Bonnie (tbf), or Lena (beautiful creatures) but that’s only in hindsight. Of course I wouldn’t admit to myself these feelings because surely they were wrong. There were ‘out’ people in my school but I saw the way they got treated how the ‘f’ slur got thrown at them like they were nothing. And I wasn’t prepared for that. A few years later…at 16, I moved to a different school for sixth form whose community was so accepting. In fact the head teacher was a lesbian and had kids and a family of her own…the first ‘real’ queer representation I’d seen. Slowly I started to come out to people, first to my closest friend who is gay, we’ve belonged to the same theatre group for years- I’d listen to him week after week telling me about the bullies at his school who’d bully him for the fact that he is gay. Through theatre we found acceptance… anyway, back to coming out..:so I slowly started to come out to people at school and no one had a bad reaction….I said I liked girls, I didn’t want a label but I knew that to come out to my parents they’d want one, so I wrote them a note in rainbow colours saying I had a date with a girl and I was indeed a ‘homosexual’ (I was 17 at this point), I handed them the note and ran upstairs into the shower so I didn’t have to face them…they took it very well and said they loved me no matter what..:the term ‘queer’ didn’t make an appearance into my dictionary until a few months later and I wish I’d used that…but with time I hope that coming out won’t have to be a thing, that people can just be who they want to be and love who they want without it being a huge question or debate!
So yes, that’s my story…nearly a year on from coming out and people have been accepting on the whole 🙂

Questioning until further notice…

My journey started 9 years ago and is still going on now. Looking back, it may have even started years before that? But 9 years ago, my sister got pregnant at 16 and kickstarted my mother into giving my younger sister and I the dreaded “safe sex” talk at age 11 & 13! Being the smart ass that I am, told my mother I didn’t need the “talk” because I was a lesbian. We all had a good laugh and left the conversation at that. Except that became a running joke within my family… “when you get a girlfriend she’ll be my favourite daughter” my mum would say. It’s kinda the reversal of 90% of queer stories, rather than feeling like i was being putting in this heterosexual mould that society expected of me, I was constantly being called gay by my family. sometimes fondly, sometimes not so fondly. It lead me on a journey of confusion and frustration. For years I was a walking, human-shaped, lump of utter confusion, sometimes I still am. It started making me question everything; interactions I’ve had, friends I made, people I avoided. I had a fear of talking to new people, mostly boys. In 23 years I can count on one hand the amount of relationships I have had (spoiler alert: it’s absolutely zero)… But I like to read stories, fanfiction, comics and 99% of them are queer. Most times, I can’t watch a tv show if it doesn’t have at least one rainbow community representation.. it’s been 9 years and I still don’t know what I am or what I like.. however, I’ve always felt more connected, safer, with females, I can remember meeting a couple when I was like 7yrs old (because that’s what I liked to do when I was little; assert myself into strangers life if even for a few minutes) at the beach and introducing myself and staying with them for hours. The woman was so nice, Jill was her name, and they were trying for a baby of their own. I held her hand, she make sure I had sunblock on, that I was fed and not thirsty. In retrospect, that’s kinda weird for someone to do for a random kid but I remember crying when I had to leave. I don’t remember her boyfriend, nor did I have any sort of connection with him or any other male (though that may be a result of some early childhood trauma? Idk) what I’m trying to say is that my journey is still going on now and I am looking forward to wherever it may lead me; my mother may get a future daughter-in-law or a son-in-law or someone in between or maybe I’ll just get a whole bunch of cats? Either way, I am loved. I adore Waverly and her bravery to go after what she wants and I aspire to be even half as brave! I am trying to absorb some of Waverly’s Bravery to explore what could make me happy…. also, Ive watched Gentleman Jack (several times; Sophie Rundle is adorable!) for an appreciation of just how far we’ve come!!

The First Gay of the Rest of my Life

Growing up I always felt different.

This different-ness kept me from having authentic and deep relationships for most of my adolescent and young adult life, before I was even aware of what my “difference” was. I was never fully myself – I had a deep seeded anxiety that I was going to somehow let everyone know this thing that I didn’t even know about myself yet.

When I was 16 I had my first real kiss. I say real because I had kissed a handful of guys and felt a gut-wrenching anxiety before during and after each time. I remember wondering if that’s what the feeling all my friends talked about loving – so why didn’t I love it?

Well my first kiss at 16 told me why. I magically made a new best friend. She somehow rose in the rankings effortlessly in the 3 short weeks that I had known her, getting that coveted “best friend” position. Thinking back on the whole thing makes me smile because as horrifying as it was back then, it’s kinda cute to think about little gay me and how obvious it all was.

At this point I was having fleeting moments of feelings when our hands would touch, or she would lay her head on my shoulder, or she seemed to seek me out the same way I sought her out. These fleeting moments manifested as one of those jolts you get right after you’ve done something embarrassing, or you are carrying a laundry basket down a flight of stairs and think there’s one more stair beneath you but your foot hits the ground too quick. That split-second “oh f***” moment followed by that FULL body halo of heat that disappears just as quickly as it came.

Despite all the signs that were there – I continued to lie to myself and think that these touchy moments and our obsessive need to talk and be around one another and the phone bills from the literal 17,000 texts a month we sent (sorry dad… Also, did I even sleep? ALSO, yes it was long ago enough that you had to pay for texts past a certain amount. I’m showing my age – I digress.) were just the signs of best friendship. So one night she slept over. And as bffs do, we obviously went to bed forehead to forehead holding hands between us because that is just what best friends do, right? Anyway… I could feel her breath on my lips (remember… i was STILL lying to my conscious brain even at this point) and I think my heart rate spiking to the level it did made me actually black out because all of the sudden I opened my eyes and I WAS KISSING HER! I came to just after I had casually kissed my best friend and squeaked out a GOODNIGHT! and rolled over.

I didn’t sleep a M-Fing wink that night. I stared at the wall with my heart in my throat wondering WHY I JUST RUINED MY NEW BEST FRIENDSHIP. Turns out I didn’t. She kissed me the following night and thus ensued a secret 4 year love affair. Yes, I said it… 4 years.

We stayed in the closet together for those four years until I met my first gay friend in college. Coming out to even one person in my life started to make that closet my secret gf and I were in feel really claustrophobic. Eventually we parted ways and I came out to everyone I knew within the next few months. I count my blessings everyday that my coming out was easy for me because I know not everyone experiences it this way. But coming out strengthened my relationship with every single person in my life because the parts of me that no one ever touched were no longer untouchable. I stopped filtering myself (which is also a little detrimental at times) but all of my bonds became stronger because I was letting everyone love me for all of me. All the parts of me.

My story is longer than that but I’ll get off my soap-box for now.

Also to everyone terrified out there – find your one person. Even if you aren’t ready to tell the world and even if it’s a stranger online. Tell your person because even being your true self to just one person can make a huge difference. That being said – it’s okay to not be ready. When you are ready though… you’ve got an army waiting for you.

-Mo

Feel free to exhale homosexuality

For me, understanding my sexuality has meant going through several mental chaos. Before understanding my sexual identity, I had to first understand my sexuality. In my adolescence, while everyone was talking about girls, boys, sex or kissing, I only thought about playing sports and going to the movies. I was not attracted to anyone, neither boys nor girls. And that made me feel like a freak, because everyone was already having a partner or, at least, a taste for someone, except me. I went out with a couple of guys and those have been (until now, 10 years later) the most boring dates of my life.
Also, before discovering my homosexuality I discovered sexual pleasure through masturbation. The first times I felt guilty about doing it because everybody knows that men masturbate, but what a horror if a girl does it. And so, for a couple more years, I was still not attracted to anyone, and did not need to have anyone.
It wasn’t until I entered college that I met the love of my life. This girl stirred up each and every one of my hormones that, until that moment, seemed dead. Unfortunately, it was an unrequited love, because she was suffering for a boy who did not pay as much attention to her as I was suffering for her.
The first person I told about my possible homosexuality was my best friend. His words of comfort (because yes, for him that confession was comforting) were “Relax, you’re not gay, you’re just confused. Let me tell you, there is nothing more confusing than when you are told you are confused. His consolation created a (other) mental chaos for me: how do I know if what I’m feeling is real or if I’m making it up? How do I know if I’m one hundred percent sure of something or if I’m confused and haven’t noticed? Furthermore, what does it mean that I am confused?
With those doubts in my head I entered my first relationship. The first month was a mental chaos because it was my first time (in every way), and it was with a girl. Because of the macho and conservative country I live in (Peru), being gay was seen as something negative. (Level: the same police officers assaulted both gays and lesbians) So, for someone like me, who has always tried to do the right thing and be a better person in every way, the idea of being gay made me ashamed. I mean, I knew it wasn’t a bad thing per se, but I was embarrassed that I wasn’t “normal. I was embarrassed to be something that was seen in a bad light. That’s why I didn’t tell my parents about it. However, as the days went by the mental chaos became more acute, so I thought it would be best to talk about it, maybe I could lean on them to understand me…. The reaction they had was shocking. You definitely don’t really know your family until you come out of the closet. From my mother I expected some rejection for being Catholic, but there was only silence. Not a single word for several days. Until she came over one night and told me to be careful because I could get AIDS. Yes, AIDS. It was the middle of the 21st century and I still believed that you get AIDS just by coming out of the closet.
On the other hand, my father is half relaxed, to the point of letting my brother smoke marijuana in the house. But it seems that drugs are not as serious as homosexuality. As soon as I finished telling him that I thought he was gay, my father started crying. There is nothing more ridiculous than seeing a big, loud person cry because his daughter is a lesbian. He started crying because it turns out that homosexuality is a disease. It turns out that homosexuality is a product of some childhood trauma. It turns out that homosexuality is an impediment to marrying and giving birth to grandchildren. And, in between cries, she began to apologize for whatever she did to make me believe it was “it”.
So far, when I think about that scene, I am aware that my departure was not tragic, it was just disappointing. At that moment I realized that I was alone in all that mental chaos. And I accepted it. You’re not always going to have someone to lean on, so I decided to raise myself to be my own source of support. But, of course, going through that chaos alone is not easy. It took me several more years before I could stop feeling ashamed of myself, and feel truly comfortable in my own skin. And it is only now, at 28, that I feel free to breathe out my homosexuality.
Now, because I’m half antisocial, my story hasn’t inspired anyone (because I don’t talk to anyone), but, if anyone keeps reading this far, what I can tell you is that, it’s not about forcing someone to accept you, it’s about how, as long as you love yourself, little by little things and people around you are going to shape up to you. And, one more thing, Respect. Even if someone lowers himself to the level of disrespect or seeks to harm you, as long as you hold your head up high, little by little you will be the one who wins.
Thank you very much for reading this will. Much love.
Ariana.