Community Rainbow Waves

Labels are for cans not people….

I consider myself still in the closet. Afraid that ill be defined a certain way even though theres so much of my personality that i love other that who im attracted too. I want people to know me for me a person who has a big heart and wants to inspire people through my career, who loves to celebrate the small acheivements in life and loving my friends and family. I find coming out too be special if you have enough courage and support behind you. But it is freaking scary too come out. I find myself looking away, avoiding eye contact as i feel my heart pound out of my chest whenever someone asks me if i am in a relationship. Can’t muster up an answer quick enough so i avoid it. The world is scary as some people judge others based on what they think is morally correct. But whats worst is myself judging myself on top of others. Being ashamed that i cant feel the way i do because of what society shaped my worldview, fear that i dont deserve acceptence and love. Too afraid to say it aloud.

But if other people can maybe i can…………someday…..

Kata

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

First of all sorry in advance for the mistakes, but I am not a native english speaker…
I was about 16 when I realized I was gay. The story is simple. I fell in love with an extraordinary girl, who was my best friend. I really felt lost, and alone, and scared. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship so I stayed quiet for a while.
She had a really difficult time with her adoptive parents, who wanted to get rid of her, so I really didn’t want to make things even more difficult for her. But as my feeling were eating me alive I got to a point where I knew I have to admit I love her. And I did. And quess what? She felt the same. And I was the happiest girl in the whole word. For a while…
Then we started to came out to our closest friends, and they were all amazing about it. Except this one girl who outed us in front of the entire school. That is when things started to go down. We were afraid to hold hands, becuase incidents happened. Someone threw stones on me. Someone spat on me. I started to feel worthless. I was afraid to come out to my family. I was, well, I still am a Christian. I couldn’t match my belief and my sexuality. I tried to pray the gay away… But nothing helped. My grandmother just suddenly died, and that was the last drop in the glass.
I tried to commit suicide, as you can see without success. And I didn’t want to tell my family the reasons. As I was in the hospital my sister found my blog online as it was trending, and she told me she knows about me being gay. She told me she loved me no matter what. I am very grateful to her to this day, becuase I really needed to hear those words from her. Then I came out to my mother, which was the scariest thing. It was hard. She acted like everything was cool, but I knew something was wrong. One day I saw her cry, and asked what happened. I asked if she is crying becuase of me. And she said yes, and my heart broke into a million pcs… That’s it. I was thinking she doesn’t love me anymore, and she’ll kick me out. And then she told me she cries becuase she doesn’t want me to be afraid to hold my partner’s hand on the streets, she doesn’t want me to be unhappy. And that was it. We cried for a long time in each other’s arms. The rest is history. This was more than 12 years ago. Now, as I am near 30 I am fully out. To those who are not out yet and are struggling, please know that it gets better. You are not alone, you have a whole army behind you. It will get better.

Book_Music

I knew I was a part of the LGBTQ+ community roughly at the age of 7 it was definitely hard for me to come out since both of my parents are religious, (babtist & Apostolic) I had came out to my mom at the age of 10 and never came out to my dad cause I would get thrown out of my home. Luckily both of my siblings and mom accepted me and I felt really validated but sadly I am never able to tell my father which gives me horrible anxiety and other thoughts (as well as other stuff). I am now 13 and I have helped many of my friends through coming out as well as figuring out who they are.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

Queer/Gay

I live in a pretty open-minded country (gay marriage has been legalized in 2003), so being gay was something people were not ashamed of when I grew up. But as a kid, and even a teenager, even tho I’d heard of the word gay, I only pictured it as the big homosexual man stereotype, the “girly boy”. I didnt even think about girls being attracted to girls, or anything related to the LGBT community other than the “gay best friend”. I was the masculine girl, and Im pretty sure everybody but me knew I was queer. At 16 I discovered Fifth Harmony and I fell into the camren hole. My body was acting weird whenever Lauren Jauregui was singing, or just looking at my soul with her amazing eyes. Deep inside I knew it, and without even questioning myself, I kinda identified as bisexual. Not with that word, but I just knew I wouldnt just date guys in my life. Two years later I was in college, met my best friend. We talked a lot about sexuality, and she told me she was pansexual. The more we talked, the more I realized the queer part of me was not just a little attraction to Lauren Jauregui, it was important. I realized I’ve had real crushes on girls before. I came out to myself as bisexual (again, but for real this time). Then I dated this guy cause he liked me and I couldnt say no. But I had no feelings at all, not only cause we had nothing in common. I jumped from bi to bi into women af, to okay maybe Im gay, to fuck I dont know lets say Im queer. That summer I came out to my old school friends, and my parents. They were cool with it. They kinda knew already.
Now its two years later, Im a gay mess, I’m fuckin into girls, I still have no idea if Im into guys. I hate the word lesbian, even more in my mother tongue, cause I’ve only heard it from straight dumb perv men. I love the word queer, cause I dont feel the pressure to add an explanation to my sexuality, queer is the global term I needed. But gay fits me too tho, most of the time. I just wish the word queer was well known in the hetero world, cause dammit every single person i’ve came out to asked me what the hell was queer
To all my closeted queer folks in here: dont feel the pressure to label yourself, and please, take your time. I know being closeted hurts, and you will get out of it, but only when youre ready. Love from Belgium, one hell of an ally country.

Ambertheunicorn

When I was around 13, I started identifying as a lesbian. I didn’t struggle with it internally. But I did worry about telling others. I don’t know why. I knew my friends would be accepting. But I guess I worried word might get out and school kids can be unkind sometimes about that sort of thing. Thankfully, word never got out. I told my friends one by one, some face to face, some over text and one I told through a game of truth or dare. It made it a little more lighthearted to make it into a game. However, fast forward 10 years and I’ve discovered a lot more about myself in that time. Things have changed. About a year ago I started realising I really don’t want a relationship, with anyone of any gender. I realised I feel really strong platonic love, but that’s really as far as I can go, and it’s as far as I want to go. I worried for ages there was something wrong with me, and I started searching all sorts of things on the internet to try and find an answer. I came across a site that talked about asexuality and aromanticism and I instantly identified with those terms. I don’t feel sexual or romantic attraction, and now that I realise that’s completely fine and I’m not the only one, I feel so content, happy and secure in myself. To tell people I’m asexual and aromantic, I just wrote out a big paragraph in my notes on my phone, screenshot it, and posted it to Twitter. I didn’t want to go through the process of telling everyone over again and having all the questions, which I don’t mind, but I wanted to try and answer everything as best as I could in the note. I had an outpouring of support from everyone and it was a really beautiful moment. I even had other asexuals and/or aromantics getting in touch saying they felt the same way initially, that something was wrong with them. It makes me so sad that a lot of us felt that way. But I’ll always be vocal about my sexuality so others can become aware of it, and hopefully if they’re having those feelings too, then they’ll know they’re not alone.

Thank you for letting me share. Love to everyone x

Lesbian

I have two different coming out stories. My public coming out was a lot sooner than coming out to family. My public coming out happened in college. At the time I wanted to identify as bisexual. I didn’t want to classify myself fully a lesbian and stuck to the safe choice (in my mind) of labeling myself as bisexual. My thought process was that as long as I also like men then I can find some way to relate to my peers.

That all changed Fall semester 2006 of my freshmen year in college. See the thing about me is that I’m afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I don’t like to put myself out there for fear of being awkward or saying something wrong. So with that in mind. My normal M.O. being to hide, I signed up for a religious retreat. Oh, I forgot to mention I was going to a Catholic university in good ole New Orleans, La.

Anyhoo, I signed up for the retreat and ended up going for a full weekend in October. I didn’t know what to expect. Well, I had my assumptions of being told that my feelings are wrong and that I couldn’t be who I was and that God thinks I’m a sinner. All these negative things.

I’m so glad I was way off. That weekend I went on a journey of love and acceptance of myself. It was so profound to meet strangers and see their love and acceptance of me shining in their eyes.

I remember there was a moment in the retreat where the newbies like myself had to close our eyes and trust fellow peers to guide us and shower us with hugs and dancing. It sounds so wacky but it’s probably the most profound feeling of love from complete strangers. The fact that we had to put trust in strangers and in return got shown unconditional love? That to me was unheard of. But the message was received. I may not be able to see my creator, but know that the person you are and the person that is seen is soooooo loved. It blew me away a but it was in that moment I could let go of my past labels and truly embrace me as who I am.

There were so many other parts in that weekend that solidified how loved I am for just being me. After that weekend I came out. To all my friends. People knew I was a lesbian and they accepted me. Ironically, I became heavily involved in the ministry at my university because I wanted others to feel that love I felt and that they could find someone they could relate to. I met my best friends there and I wouldn’t trade it. It helped me live my truth at least outside my home life.

My coming out to my family was rough. I’m Hispanic and my mom is a single mother that raised three awesome kids. She’s an immigrant and was raised with very strict ideals of marriage and life. Since I was the baby I could do no wrong.

That changed when I came out at 22. I was in graduate school in another state. I had just had my first real heart break and called my mom crying. She thought I was pregnant. Nope. Mama, I’m a lesbian. She was hurt. Hurt because she couldn’t understand why I turned out the way I did. Hurt because that’s not the life she wanted for me. She didn’t talk to me for a week.

But after that she slowly started talking to me. She wouldn’t bring it up and for a long time she couldn’t deal. But I got help from someone. My sister helped her see so many things I couldn’t express.

See my mom is a stubborn woman and set in her ways. But she actually opened her mind for me. She had a very strict mindset and no one could really change her mind about things. But she did for me. She opened her mind. She accepted me. My siblings didn’t care.

But my extended family is a different story. I have aunts that know and aunts and uncles that don’t know that would probably not approve. Most of my cousins know. I’m still navigating coming out to my extended family. I’m not out to everyone and I’m 31.

It’s not easy. It’s not easy to see how people’s faces change when you’re out.

But I won’t hide who I am. In public it’s a bit easier because the people that matter most have my back. I know family will come around if they don’t agree. I’m blessed. I got lucky. It could have been worse.

My faith didn’t suffer because of my sexual orientation. My family loves me (the ones that know). And my friendships and professional relationships are great. My truth is not a weakness. It’s my strength that I’ve learned not to apologize for.

Queer

Hello!

I’m Brenn and I realized that I was part of the LGBTIQ+ community at the age of 12 when a girl at school started liking me but I also liked children. For the next 8 years or so it wasn’t a conflict that I liked women, the conflict was that there were stages where I only liked men other times only women, sometimes both and other times no one.

I did not understand what was happening to me, until those stages were over and as I educated myself about the diversity that exists I discovered that being Queer was the closest thing to what I feel and how I identify myself.

When I was 21 years old I came out of the closet with my boyfriend at that time as a bisexual because it was the sexual orientation I knew even though I didn’t feel like I belonged there.

Then I came out at 27 with my parents and brother in a situation that I would not have liked to have happened but it brought my nuclear family to know and they understood the whole situation. Plus they were understanding and took it very well.

So I told my friends, some took it well and others walked away.

In general I always felt that I didn’t fit in anywhere but that also helped me to do a lot of introspection and work on myself, which has made me feel happy with who I am and how that projects on others. It’s true that all those years go by in rather dark episodes but the colors came and now they don’t stop shining and they do more and more.

I live in Mexico in a society in which there is more visibility of the LGBTIQ+ community but there is no education about it, so we have a long way to go but with the hope that we are making a change.

Thank you for everything!

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

“The Waverly In Me”

So, here it goes.

I can’t really remember the exact moment when I found I was “different”. But, I knew at some point of high school I realized that something in me was pretty much diverted from what the society perceives as “right”.

At first it scared me. I knew for a fact that I like boys. But at the same time, get attacted to girls. I was starting to get frightened about the fact that I’m slowly being pulled towards a kind of liking that my conservative, Catholic family wouldn’t like.

So, I made sure I supressed whatever “bad” feelings I was experiencing then. I made sure to be in a relationship with what is “conventional”.

That was in high school, and later my first two years in college. I was In and out of relationships with “boys”. I was trying my best to cure whatever it is that’s bugging me for years, and years now.

Ironically, the medicine I thought would help me was just making everything worse. I ruined friendships. I ruined myself. I was slowly being devoured by the very thing I thought would save me.

Now when I graduated from college, I persude my passion in teaching Literature. I became a teacher, and met the love of my life; a girl. But, the thing is, I was never out. And that every unwanted feeling that I’ve been hiding for a decade suddenly surfaced because of her.

We became a couple. It was a secret. A beautiful secret but by the time we were about to celebrate our first year anniversary, things went downhill.

One of my colleagues outed me. She saw our texts, and she outed me to our principal. I didn’t know what to do then. I was called to his office, and gave me an ultimatum. You see, this school is a sectarian school. Grounded by traditional rules. In short, if you’re a girl, who’s into both genders, and has a girlfriend, you out.

I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. And I made the stupidest decision; I boke up with my love. And it was terrible.

All these feelings, I kept them all in the dark til I watched Wynonna Earp. I’ve always cried during that scene where Waverly’s aunt tells here that there surprises that come our way, in what, or who we meet. Right there and there I knew, I was not alone.

In the character of Waves, I felt at home. I realized I wasn’t alone. That what I feel, that fear of being judged, is normal.

My ex is currently happy with her new girlfriend,. And, I am happy for her too.

As for me, I am just happy that I am not alone in this battle.

To be able to fall in love with anyone, regardless of their gender, their social standing, how they look, how they talk.

I guess, the best way to end this confession is by telling everyone that when we love, we love. That’s that.

Love is love. No matter what.

This is me.

I am QUEER af.

And I’m out.