Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Becoming the man I am, the man I want to be. And reclaiming the things I had resented over the years.

Growing up I was one of the boys, gender didn’t matter. Playing outside, drawing with chalk on sidewalks, riding around in our little toy go carts and just generally being happy, back then no one cared about labels, boy or girl.
We cared about our friends and loved them no matter what.
Starting school was different, suddenly I was pushed into the role of the gender I was assigned at birth, made to wear pink clothes, not getting the car or dragon bag I wanted, instead it was pink, with cats on it – I don’t have anything against cats, or the color Pink in fact – but back then, it was the worst thing that could happen to me, being forced into wearing and doing things that were stereotypically feminine, it hurt. It really hurt.
Because I perceived myself completely differently from the people around me. I wasn’t and still am not a girl. I never was.

It took years for me trying to figure out my place in this world, who I was and who I strived to be. When I was twelve I finally was able to get the haircut I always wanted, short hair. And boy did it feel great.
I knew that trans people existed, my mother even was friends with a trans man When I grew up, but I still didn’t realize that people assigned female at birth could transition to male.
I mean how could I have known? The representation lacked and still is lacking, but I will elaborate on what that means to me later.
I only knew about trans women existing so when I finally realized that trans men existed, and I would be able to transition, I jumped with joy.

But then the dread settled in, how would I tell the people around me?
My Mama? My grandparents? My friends?
What if they wouldn’t want me anymore because I am me? Should I live my life unhappy? I also had a bad case of imposter syndrome, constantly questioning myself when I knew I was so sure.
So I took small steps, telling my mother about the possibility that I might not be female, as she perceived. Telling a few friends and so far everyone reacted nicely, no one badmouthed me or told me how wrong I was for finding out who I was.

Still it took me years after that, until March of this year to be exact. To finally be able to voice proudly who I was, that I was David, not the name chosen for me at birth. Finally, telling people to please respect my name and pronouns.

2020 so far has been detrimental for me, being able to start treatment soon (I hope that I can be on HRT before summer 2021, and so far that might be the case), I figured where I want to go in life, and I finally reclaimed things I was grown to resent because of the perception being stereotypically female.
I am able to wear pink again! Wear nail polish or ear rings, which made me so uncomfortable before.
I figured out what I want to do in life, I want to give people like me and the LGBTQ+ community the representation it deserves. If that does not work out, I will go into psychology to help LGBTQ+ youth find themselves. I just desperately want to give the community what they deserve, and what I did not have growing up.

I still have a long journey to go, but I’ve already come this far, I’ve already had so much thrown at me that I am ready to face the world as who I am.

And I hope that i will read this one day, proud of what I’ve achieved, proud of the young man I am now.

I hope this message gives people the strength they need. Love the people around you, no matter who they are or want to be. Spread love.

Stay healthy, Be safe, be proud.

Much love
-David

My name is Gaby and I´m Queer

Hi guys my name is Gaby, I have 23 years old and I from Venezuela but I live in Argentina.

so here goes:
I started to feel strange when I was very young, when I have 10 I started to realize that I was attracted to one girl in my school something that not happened to me with boys, it was a stange felling it scared me a lot I studied in a religious school and my family were very traditional So what they had instilled in me since I was little was that those feelings I was having were VERY BAD because of that I made my feelings go aside I grew up trying to ignore what I felt, I knew that something was different in me and that kept scaring me a lot, I did not talk to anyone, many nights I cried and told myself that it could not be like this, God going to punish me and that My mom would suffer a lot, so I kept ignoring that feeling and hid it pretty well until I fell in love. I fell in love with a girl without realizing how it happened, but it was what I felt, I do not know what happened to me, but one day I woke up and told myself that I could not continue deceiving myself, that I could not let go of my happiness because of people think bad about me, so I dared to be myself, it was not easy to accept me but when I decided to talk to my friends they supported me 100%, gave me strength, I started to read and see lgbt characters on tv what made me inspire me more and more and make me feel great, YES I am different and what? being different is AWASOME.

Time passed and I decided to come out the closet with my mom, I can swear that it has been the most hard and sad moment for me, she cried a lot, got angry to the point of calling the who was my girlfriend at that time and demand her that she move away from me I was a minor (16 years to be exact), that night I felt extremely bad I came to feel very guilty for all the pain my mom was feeling, for my mom, being a lesbian was the same as being a drug addict, coming out with my mom it was not nice, but I must say that it is the best thing that I could do, After several visits to the psychiatrist, many conversations, and all the information my mother sought about homosexuality, today my mother has become my greatest support. hearing from my mother “You are my daughter, I love and accept you as and as you are “is the most gratifying and beautiful thing that has happened to me, she supports me, she loves me as well as she also loves my girlfriend (The love of my life), little by little I was telling my cousins and aunts my truth and I The only thing I have received is love and support, now and after several years (I am 23 years old) I can say that I am a free woman to love whoever I wantand with all the confidence to shout it out to the world, thank you To my mother who despite being from another era and being a traditionalist, put love for her daughter before everything, thanks to my friends for always supporting me, thanks to the fact that we now have good and incredible LGBTQ representation on TV, I must thank the universe for putting such amazing people in my life. I really hope that if you are reading this it will help you, that you understand you are not alone, that the world is a beautiful place, love always win because LOVE IS LOVE and love is what moves the world.
Be BRAVE, be STRONG, be HAPPY and FREE.

This was my story, thanks for letting me share it with you

Lili

A part of me always knew, since I was a child I had a class of attention for women, I always liked to be helpful with them, to take care of them, to be for them.
But I had never seen this kind of relationship until I was 13 – 14 years old, that’s when I realized that this society and my family would not receive me with open arms. And I struggled for years to stop being myself, it was a very difficult time, where I hated myself. I told myself that this was going to happen and that I wasn’t really a lesbian.
It was that time with that girl, that only by the touch of her hand with my hand I knew that this was not a stage that was totally wrong.
Then I met someone like me who lived her life freely, we became friends. I filled her with questions because I wanted to know why this had happened to me, was it normal? Why couldn’t I get the woman I liked out of my mind? Should I tell my parents?
I am grateful that she helped me to find myself and not wish for death, I know she went through her hell too.
And I also discovered that it was not just her and me but that a very large community was supporting and encouraging us to go and get these colors out.
Now I am proud of who I am, I have no doubt. I know it’s still hard for me, I have no support in my family. But that doesn’t stop me, if I have to walk alone, I will do it.
Thank you for this space, Dom, you also had a hand in finding out where I belong.

A queer work in progress

I had become aware of my queerness very early on, when I found myself wanting to kiss girls and not really understanding why. The thought immediately terrified me, due to many of the surrounding messages I had around the topic. Many of my extended family members are devoutly religious, and believe the traditional viewpoints on sexuality. That was the platform they used to deny the existence of such people. To deny my own existence to me before I was even aware.

With my parents, the story was different. I grew up in a agnostic household, neither my mom or dad practicing in anything. So these experiences of homophobia somehow stung even worse. My experience with my father has been better, but the experience with my mother has proven much more difficult. I was always aware of her general disgust over “those people” and that negative reinforcement crept in very early on.

The peak of our issues occurred in June of 2020. I had already been out to my parents, and basically the world. I was out as bisexual, but at the time I was experimenting with other terms to see what felt best. I was struggling with the authenticity of my attraction to men, as well as experiencing internalized bi-phobia. Basically, I was in a spot where I wasn’t sure where my sexuality best fit. So, I personally landed on queer. After reading about Dom’s experience, I grew to like using the term queer as my label. Queer, to me, feels liberating and doesn’t limit the type of people I can love. It opens up the option for my sexuality to be fluid and grow with me over time. I love all terms and find them all to be valid, but with time queer just became the best fit for me. Ultimately, I got a pride themed tattoo and identified and queer publicly, in celebration of my two year coming out anniversary.

My mother did not like the change. I had told her about the tattoo and the label, and explained that I wasn’t sure where I stood with my attraction to men. She grew distant, and I confronted her about the silence. Ultimately, she told me “I never wanted my daughter to be a lesbian.” This obviously triggered a visceral reaction within me, striking as the inevitable finale to all her homophobic undertones.

After the worst had passed, there has been brighter days. My mother and I are on decent terms, but my sexuality is a topic we just don’t address anymore. My dad will address my queerness occasionally but I can still sense the discomfort.

Apart from my parents and most of my extended family, I have received nothing but immense support and love from friends and some family members. I have also been supported substantially by seeing great representation in the world around me, such as Dom’s work on Wynonna Earp and with Start The Wave. This gracious support has helped me move on from the harsh words of others, to experience myself authentically and grow into my own. A growth I am still working on to this day. As a 22 year old, I still work with and struggle with finding comfort in my sexuality. Feelings fluctuate as I change as a person over time, so my discovery of who I am is a constant work in progress. I learn about myself everyday, and how I am meant to live this life.

At the end of the day, I am me. In all of my authentic, queer ways. I’m learning to see all parts of myself and accept them with open arms. For now, I find comfort in the unknown. Terrifying, yet forever liberating.

Thank you.

Femke, 28Y, Belgian ( Europe) – putting the L in LGTB – CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

My story, ….
When I was about 13y old, i fell in love for the very first time. I know you’re basically still a child then but I had never felt that way before.
The head-over-heels kinda love. My teacher of dutch was the aim of all that love, haha.
My best friend knew what was going on, we had been in the same class since we were 3y old.
I felt so happy, the pink cloud you know. but I struggled too…. It felt so wrong. It didn’t hit me at first but the moment i realized that i did not just like her, but fell in love with her, i also realized that my teacher was not a man, but a beautiful at that time 27y old ( i think ) woman.

Damn, that hit me hard. It felt so so wrong. Everything about it was wrong. falling in love with your teacher? UGH. Falling in love with a woman? UGH. AT 13y? UGH!

Time passed and i did not know how to cope.
So i started ‘cutting’ myself at my wrists. I wore wristbands to cover it up.
I didn’t do it for a long time but by the end i had about 30 marks, each 2 to 3 cm ( about an inch ).

Luckily, the friend i mentioned before, knew that particular teacher also private, as the were neighbors.
She told her what i had been doing, and why….

The teacher talked to me several times, she made time for me during lunch brakes to discuss why everything felt so wrong.
She told me it was okay to fall for a teacher ( happens to a lot of people) but that ofcourse it was not mutual.
BUT also that these feelings for people of the same gender weren’t so wrong as i thought. her sister apparently was gay too.
She looked up some tips to stop the cutting. one i remember was wearing an elastic band around my wrists. so when i felt the need to hurt, i could just pull it, but no scars, no wounds, …. it was the first step to make it stop.

I’m still thankful to this day that she helped me, that she comforted me, that she made me feel good and okay.
Even though it must have been kinda awkard sitting in that room with a kid that is so in love with you….

Yet after all that was over, i did not have the courage to come out to more of my friends or my family.
I waited until i was 16. we got an assignment at school, to make an ad, a kind of collage for your older self to look at. with wishes, aspirations, ..
I wrote down that i hoped i’d be happy with my wife …. a little later our teacher ( religion ) asked something about it, and i came out to my entire classroom. it felt so freeing yet so difficult that immediately after i ran out of class. my emotions were just too much and i did not want anyone to see it, neither did i want to hear a reaction because i was afraid there might be negative ones.
But most of them wore cool with it. except for some boys who reacted rather childish, and i expected it from those particular boys so it didn’t affect me that much ( but it always does a bit … i”m sure you’ll understand ).

I was very scared of my parents reaction too. I kinda knew they would probably be okay with it, my older niece had a girlfriend at the time, my mom’s boss was gay, … and my parents were fine with all of that. but still i had the idea that when it would be their own child, they would react differently.
but they didn’t. my mom was kinda sad, but just because i hadn’t told her sooner, instead of carrying this weight on my shoulders alone for such a long time.

So it all went much smoother than i thought. I realize many people have it a lot worse than me.
but still the thought process, the mental struggle, …. i wish it will be different for the generations to come.
that they can grow up, without thinking for just a minute that they’re wrong, that they’re not good enough.
cause they are good enough.

I am happily married with my beautiful wife Elise, who is a teacher too ;-), see it comes all full circle haha.
We’re expecting our first child, so soon we’ll be a family of 3.

Hope it all works out for all of you 2

As Ellen would say: ” be kind to one another”

Femke
* sorry for the spelling mistakes, my computer freaks out when i type in english.
and i’m not a native speaker ofcourse.

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

Let’s make a better world by showing our true colors

I think I always knew I was queer. However, when I was 12 I fell in love for the first time, just like you see straight kids do… and it was so beautiful, so truthful and so right. I never once though it was a bad thing, it was all so natural, so pure… And I didn’t even know what homossexuality was, I just knew I liked that girl so much it made my stomach hurt, in a wonderful way, so never questioned myself and I always fully accepted who I was because, at age of 12, we don’t really understand what prejudice and homophobia was and why people would think our love was wrong.

But then I started to grow and realized that society abhor who I was and it was when I started being untruthful with myself and hide the Real me for years… that felt like centuries.

At that time I believe I was bisexual, so I dated a few guys, but I never felt anything and never understood why… if I was bisexual shouldn’t I be also attracted to people of the opposite sex?!
As the years went by, the doubt inside of me grow stronger, it was like I was suppressing the answer unconsciously.

And then, in 2018, my mom found out about me, she had read the messages my (ex) girlfriend and I shared and I had never felt so disrespected in my life. She seemed so okay with who I was, but at the same time I knew she was lying and only trying to make me feel safe.
However, the past year we struggled a lot, she didn’t accept my True Self, she accepted all the parts of me BUT one. For a year my heart was breaking and breaking, in times I could even hear my heart shattering inside of me… and I still don’t feel like she fully accepts me, she keeps denying that part of me.

Nevertheless, we became closer this year and, in a way, I am grateful for that year of suffering and questioning because it forced me to look beyond the surface. I had to engage in some introspection and I finally had the courage to truly accept who I am. I finally had the courage to admit I wasn’t attracted to men at all and that it was okay.

Despite all the hate and prejudice that the world insists on throwing at us. I am really proud of who I am and I will walk in this world with my head held high because there is nothing wrong with being my unapologetic self.

Living QUEER without FEAR. I’m Jes.

They say your childhood years should be the best years of your life–little to no responsibilities, innocent friendships and frequent laughter. My story, however, veered into less blissful territory.

I moved in with my father at age 6, which is where the memory of my childhood began. I was happy there. My father, then on his second marriage, seemed to finally be stable. My step mother seemed to be a wonderful woman who really stepped up to raise a growing little girl she had only just met.

A year later, my brother moved in, and my father and step mother tried to establish as much normalcy as possible. We spent time together, going to the beach and playing games. What we didn’t see was the complete unraveling of their marriage happening right before us. My parents efficiently and completely sheltered us from their inevitable demise.

After the divorce, we moved many times. Which of course resulted in different school systems, and different homes, the worst of which were without electricity. Eventually, my father made the decision to move us closer to his family halfway across the country, to the panhandle of Oklahoma. It was there, a year later, where he found the woman who would become his third wife. And as a result, our life settled.

At age 11, my whole world changed into daily physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, by people who were supposed to be safe. Let me be clear that my father has never, aside from punishment, abused or hurt me. But he also profoundly failed to protect me.

At 13, I realized what attraction meant, and recognized I wasn’t like the other girls in my small town. Each of them had boyfriends and crushes, while I secretly daydreamed about the girls I liked. Like many young gays, I tried to date boys to distract or convince my brain I was “normal.” I hid the pain of my abuse and my homosexuality from everyone. I wrestled and struggled with the abuse and my complicated differences for another year, until finally, I was removed from my father’s care, and placed with my grandparents.

It truly felt like a crushing weight was lifted off my chest. It felt like my life had just started. But also, I was broken. I was on a train of tragedy, headed straight for derailment with no idea how to slow myself down. So, in an attempt to have any excuse to run away or escape, I came out to my grandparents. Having already endured what I believed was the worst life could have dealt, I shared my secret with them. To my surprise, I didn’t need to run. They hugged me, loved me, and accepted every part of me. I was finally free. Free from abuse, and free from my prison of secrecy.

I am a queer woman.
I identify as a lesbian.
I have a beautiful family.
I am stronger now than my 13 year old self would ever believe I could be–and I am strong because of what I survived in my childhood.

-Jes.

#OutIsTheNewIn

Jessi, the gay woman

I was about 17 when I realised. I developed a crush on not 1 but on a group of 3 girls on the bus. 2 of them were sisters. I didn’t have a big coming out, not even with my parents, but I grew up in a place and around people that I knew wouldn’t have a problem with it. The first time I did actually tell my mom was right before I was going live on a radio show. My mom NEVER listened to the radio but that night of all nights she was. So I figured I would give her a little heads up I was going to be on the radio. So I ran into her bedroom and yelled “I’m going to be on the radio!” and then ran back out just to run back in and yell “to talk about my bisexuality!” I didn’t give her time to respond and she never actually did but I knew she was gonna be okay with it otherwise I wouldn’t have done that. Now we’re so many years later, changed a bit (or a lot) and I’ve come to the realisation I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a man and can only see myself in a serious relationship with a woman. The older I got, the less I was interested in men to not at all anymore. Which is also why I identify as gay, because I don’t want to give myself a specific label like lesbian or bisexual. I’m happy with being gay.

I like what I like.

You can’t help who you love.

It began when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class with short dirty blonde hair and I still remember the red and white ruffled dress she wore, with her dingy white sneakers. I knew something was different. I was having these feelings that I couldn’t explain, and they continued to grow. My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot, and met a lot of different people. I was constantly bombarded with all these new attractions I was experiencing. When I was 10 years old, I realized that this was the real beginning of my struggle with my sexuality. There were two girls in my class that I could never stop talking about. I started drawing out their names during class and was constantly thinking about them. “This can’t be normal! Why am I having these feelings? What’s wrong with me? Do I tell mom and dad? What would they say?” Then I remembered I had an aunt, who was rumored to have a girlfriend, and that was highly frowned upon-yet no one ever confronted her about it. My parents just told us that “they were girlfriends.” I took that as they were together, but it was never explained or rarely spoken of. When it was mentioned, it was always with eyebrows raised. Their reaction to her made it even more difficult for me to want to talk to them.

After a few months at a new school, my sister found a couple drawings of girls’ names that I had really huge crushes on. “I LOVE…” She went straight to our mom with them! I was so embarrassed and confused. “You are just confused. You can talk to me, okay?” I WAS NOT going to talk to her! “This is my secret and it will pass,” I thought to myself. Maybe I was going through a phase. My dad was away, so I felt a little more at ease that I didn’t have to try to talk to him too.

I was 16 years old when my mom came up to me and asked me outright if I was gay. Her eyes pierced my soul. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so ashamed. I did NOT want to disappoint her. Without hesitation, I looked directly into her eyes and lied to her. “NO! I’m just not interested in anyone, that’s all.” She knew I was lying, but did not say so. I continued to have my secret crushes, but never allowed myself to fully give in to my feelings. It was miserable, to have all these feelings and be terrified to speak about them. My questionable sexuality was knocking at my door. I was in real trouble. It was getting harder and harder to suppress these feelings. My friends at school were all dating and here I was, not interested in any guys. AT ALL. I decided that I would just tell everyone that my mom would not allow me to date because I had to focus on my studies. That’s what Asian kids do right? They don’t have time for relationships!

I was 20 when I met Lou. She was the general manager at the restaurant that I worked at. Over the years of our friendship, she noticed that I never had a boyfriend, or talked about relationships in general. One day, I decided to date a guy. We had gone to high school together and he was recently divorced with a young son. Honestly, I was trying to test if I was really gay. This relationship ended quickly, as I realized that even if I had feelings for him, being with him felt like a job. I went through all the motions but had no real connection. I was watching him fall for me and for what? To disappoint him in the end? We ultimately broke up because I was always choosing work over him, or any excuse to keep him at a distance. My mom and Lou watch all of this unfold. Neither of them were fooled for a second. The thing that Lou said to me that I will never forget is that, “you can’t help who you love.” I didn’t answer, but I knew that she knew. I was 29 when I had the worst encounter of my life. I had met someone at my new job and had fallen in love with her, and I could NOT bear to tell her. The friendship ended horribly because I wouldn’t explain to her why I was so jealous of her boyfriend. In an effort to forget about how my life was completely ruined by me being in the closet, I decided suddenly to join the military. I needed a new environment, a change. I had to get out of here!

In a new place, I decided that I could finally be me. None of the past shame or mistakes. However, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” was still in effect (homosexual servicemen/servicewomen could stay in the military if they did not openly declare their sexual orientation). I got involved with a girl at the barracks, and things escalated quickly. We were careful, because we didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves. I lied to her about my past in the beginning, but seeing how serious it was getting, I finally told her to truth. I’d never been with a woman. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. During the duration of our relationship, we had difficult arguments. I had not come out to my family and was avoiding it, which was a huge problem for her since she expected them to know that she existed as more than my friend. She wanted to get married and wanted kids, and to be accepted by my family. I was not ready for ANY of that. Everything was still so new but I still was not able to be ME. I was living two separate lives.

The next year, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Within that year, she passed away. I never came out to her. And now she was gone. I fell into a horrible depression and was not sure I going to make it in the military. I had only been in for a couple years and my girlfriend was afraid I would ruin my career. Since I had been free of suppressing my sexuality, I decided to suppress my grief over losing my mom. It caught up to me a few months later when I getting ready to report to my first ship. We dated for another year before she ended things. We were on opposite coasts and would be separated for 3-4 years. My first REAL heart break. As soon as I was able, I went home on leave and came out to my dad and sisters. I came out to my dad first, and boy was that the hardest thing I ever had to do. I couldn’t even look at him. He is a man of very little words so when he asked if I was sure, I looked at him through my tears. “Dad, I’ve known since I was 5.” He looked down, then said, “okay,” and walked away. I felt a huge wave of relief. I mean, he didn’t hug me or tell me everything was going to be fine, but I knew it would be. I came out to my sisters next, which was much easier. “I knew it! Why couldn’t you just tell us? It was obvious! I remember your little drawings,” my one sister yelled. The other one was still a baby back then, but then chimed in, “I was just waiting for you to tell us.” I started crying because I wasn’t able to tell my mom, and that I would never be able to tell her.

Newly single at 32 and a new duty station was just the change that I needed . “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed and I could serve the remainder of my time in the military truly happy and free. When asked “what I am,” I would always answer, “I like what I like.” I still to this day have no label and have been happy in my “no label” sexuality since then. I have never felt the need to come out to everyone. My dad and sisters know and I’m okay with that. In my dad’s words, “You don’t need to announce it to the world. You don’t owe anyone any explanation. You do what you feel is right, and what makes you happy.”

I finished my contract and returned home. I had a lot of people speculate on my sexuality but the only person I cared about was Lou. She has been my best friend for years and like a big sister, but I still have not come out officially to her. I don’t feel the need to. Outside of my dad and sisters, I know that she loves me unconditionally. I know that she knows, and I believe she is still waiting on me to tell her. Maybe I will soon. 21 years later is not too late.