Community Rainbow Waves

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

I am me!

I always knew i was different but i didnt know what that meant. I grew up in a very secluded rich neighborhood where being straight was all there was. I was in high school when i met my first gay person and a light went off and everything just clicked. I finally knew who I was. I became me.

Funny

I always knew I was a little different. I was the off athlete, the friend left out, the person who could always make everyone else laugh and happy however it was the biggest mission to get me to laugh, enjoy what I was doing. I found an environment at work where I just become friends with people because I felt alright to be around. Than one year, one day, one person came and joined our work. Straight away we were the same!, same interests, same think a like, same almost everything, It was just someone I felt it was not hard to talk to. We instantly became friends time passed and we were best friends but little things started to change. I’d want to tell her everything, I wanted her oppion, we couldn’t not talk to each everyday, I wanted to be around her. Small part of the good thing we had developed started to explode from types of family matters. But we chose to stick around for each other. This lead to a moment that I can never forgot. This girl kissed me, she’s kissed me. And from than on we’ve had family issues on her side, But my families accepted us together and she is part of my family. But we always stick together. we have had each other for almost 4ish year. Been Together for 2years. But it’s made me realise when you find 1 person who your able to be vulnerable, happy, sad, angry, loved, in 1 person than it doesn’t matter what’s stated on a birth certificate what matters is what they are to you. So at the age of 21 – I am out.

I am bisexual

During high school. When I got my current girl friend, I came out to my best buddy and one of my close aunt. Only 2 of them that I told them personally. One day, 1 of my BFF noticed my interactions with my girl friend and confronted me. That’s where I’m forced to come out to another few of my BFF.

Jen, A Moslem closeted queer

Hi, my friend often call me Jen, I’m an Indonesian girl so, pardon my English .
Well.. how do I start?
Mm.. I was recognized my self being attracted to a girl when i was on a 8th grade, prior to it when i was on my 7th grade there was a girl who always want to walk home together and says that she attracted to me but I never considered it and I have to moved town and school.
At my 8th grade or when i was 14, I started to feel this strange attraction to a girl on my class, I love to watched her studiying, playing and anything from a far.
I felt it so intentsly until i feel that I can’t hold it anymore. I was so confuse. I didn’t know what to do.
Surounded by a moslem family, neighbourhood and being in the Country with the largest Moslem population didn’t help my confusion at all, me being truthfull for who I am will only sent me into another deeper problem.
Until one day I did a wager, I decided to tell the truth to my bestfriend. Her name is Tina. I said to my self that day, If she will accept me for who I am, I promise I’ll always be there for her.
And.. I told her, after school, and I cried, feeling guilty like i was comitted to a sin.
But.. her reaction is priceless, she smile and say thank you for trusting her and promise she wont tell anybody else, and be there for me when I need her..
And I cried harder.. hahah! I dont believe such a wisdom could came out from a 14 years old friend.
And yes. She’s keep her promise until now, we’ve been friends for 20 years now since then! And still awesome!
We were went to highschool together and that was when I need her the most.
I have a crush to a girl on my class on my first week in highschool. Her name is Vani
Unfortunately, she’s a daughter of a strongbeliever, rich, respectful Moslem family. Hahah..
But.. somehow it doesn’t affected us. We were friend, I tried make a move as a friend.. share something in common, i try to find what’s her hobby, what she likes, tried to matched her schedule study. And… at the end of the year, we were finally close.
We were almost unseparable on our second year. We had fun, go somewhere together and so on, until one day some of student around us start to whisper about our closeness. Say that i was a bad Influence for vani, that it was wrong for two girl holding hands, or too close. Well i was always considered as a bad girl at school, while Vani is the sweet, beautiful, kind, a true moslem, and sincere.
I realised that there were “something” between us. We just don’t want to admit it.
My bestfriend Tina try to confirm about the school gossip to me and I said, yes.. I think Im in love with Vani and I guess it wont be one sided love. And Vani is my first love I guess. I was 17 that time.
My friend Tina asked me: “are you happy..?” I said “Absolutely”
And then she asked again
“Will she (Vani) happy if you confess to her?”. I said “I have no idea..”
She then just said, “you know I supported you all the way, but please don’t make descision when you’re on cloud nine. Think about her too, think about the problem she will face, about her confussion after you confess. What if she doesnt have friend who support her ?”
Tina is right, I cant think only about my self.
So.. we spent the rest of our high school with being “best friend”. Until one day we go on our separate way to the University. We cried at each other arms when we went apart.

2 years went by after that. We met again on our high school reunion. Even we still keep in touch through SMS. But we never saw each other.
I never realise how much i missed her when i saw her again.
Andddd.. something i least expected happened. Vani Kissed me, yesss kissed me on the mouth! I was so surprise and she said “I missed you” . Damn.. i cant even say it back. My brain was numb.
We spent the night catching up, talking about ourself the past year, talked about her Engineering study, my Accounting study and else until its time to go on separate way again. We lived in different city and its quite far. About 5 hours driving.

We never talked about it again, and we just continued our life like usual, we texting each other on daily basis but never met until our graduation.
We met again after she and I graduate, she was back to our hometown but I still live in another town but at least its only 1,5 hours driving.
I often came to see her, to her house met her parents, befriend her sister and she sometimes came visit me..
We were getting close, so close until i can savely said that we were together. But we cant said it to anyone else. Except I tell it to my bestfriend Tina and her reaction only “im glad..but when somethings goes wrong, u know I always right behind you..”.

Me and Vani get together for about a year and a half becauuseee… she has to be married.. . Her family expect her to be married. Her family engaged her with a very decent man, the date has set in stone and we broke up 5 minutes before her wedding.. and I was her maid of honor.. hahah!

Vani and I still a good friend until now, she lived with her husband and 3 kids now and its been 10 years since her wedding. And we were both 33 years old now.
We live in different city but sometimes we visited each other. Her kids adore me! Haha. But I know my boundaries.
Vani often said to me, “move on please find your happiness, its what i always wanted.”

We knew too well that our surrounding wont accept us, that’ s why we gave up
But I knew we hold up each other preciously at our heart.

And.. Tina keep her promise to be always there for me, she’s now have 2 adorable kids. I always gratefull to have her. She’s there for me on my lowest and vice versa. One friend who accept me for who i trully am is more than enough for me to keep my sanity.
Because I never came out to anyone except her.

-Fin-

Wish anyone is luckier than me!

Just me

I always knew I was different from a young age but thought it was just retaliation to my upbringing. I never really addressed it and choose to just keep pushing it away until my early teens hit and I coped using alcohol as a defence, and continued to date boys/men (most of my partners were older than me).
When I was around in my early teens, I can’t quite remember the exact age, I told my mum at a party I was gay….the result was not great as now it was gossip and my father who I had just recently met came and told me I was not gay. For fear of acceptance, which is all I ever wanted, I recanted my declaration and continued to live my life as “normal”. Gossip was always abound and I wanted to protect my family from it.
Life went on with its usual trials and tribulations until I made the decision to move away, I was in my mid 30s. Being away from my small home town gave me a sense of freedom that I’d always wanted but I had suppressed so much of my life already that it was still difficult to admit my true feelings.
I am now a couple of months from turning 40 and in the last five years I have met so many people from all walks of life and I have realised that I can be who I want to be!
Even though the subject is still kind of brushed under the carpet back home I am proud to say that my family continue to be my rock and reason for doing all that I do now. I want to teach my nieces and nephew especially that you don’t have to fear anything in life no matter what it is, a fear of flying or whatever.
I have followed Dom for about a year now just purely because she is so pure and true and that really is an inspiration to know that everyone is different and can still conquer the world.
Thank you
I would like to end by saying that I am far from perfect but I am me and that is that.
I love my and friends unconditionally,
This is the first time my story is going beyond them.
Peace out peeps

I identify as Queer and/or Bisexual

I think I kinda always knew, the signs were all there, but I just never really realized until December of 2017 (at that year I was 16 years old) that’s when it hit me that I may be Bisexual.

Every since then I’ve been trying to understand and learn more about the LGBTQ+ Community also I have been watching way more gay movies and TV shows, and I’m pretty sure my parents knows that I’m “hiding” something from them – I haven’t come out…. yet – I plan on doing it when I feel comfortable and when it is the right time to do it.

On November of 2018 I had my first kiss with a woman at a friend’s party, now I understand what they say about “woman’s lips being incredible soft and once you tasted it you will definitely get addicted”, because that’s exactly how I feel.

If I’m being completely honest I’m a firm believer that sexuality is fluid. Meaning that right now I identify as bisexual but in a few months or even years that can change and I’ll be whatever sexual orientation it feels right for me at the moment – doesn’t matter if it is lesbian, pansexual, demisexual, assexual, etc.

#OutIsTheNewIn

Peacefully free.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Ana and I am 32 years old.
My coming out story started when I was 12, I was a kid. In a world that at that time did not understand and we’re very close minded. I am the oldest of 9 and also a Mexican, my family.. Well they are your topical Mexican family. Strict and very in tuned with their old ways and values. At 12 I figured something was “wrong” with me. “Wrong”.. It’s crazy how much we are made to believe that there is something ” wrong” with us. Anyways, I had a girl best friend in school that I started having weird feelings for. I didn’t understand and didn’t know who to even talk to. I mean, what do I even say?. What if they look at me weird or something? These were scary times. I had an adult figure in my life that I trusted so much. When I couldn’t understand, I went to this person and told them what was going on. What I was feeling. This person convinced me to talk to my parents. So, I did. And man oh man did I regret it. My first thought was to “come out” to my mom. I mean, who actually goes to their dad first, right? Haha. After, I believe 20 minutes of beating around the bush, I told her I thought I was bisexual. That I was having feelings I couldn’t understand. My mom replied with, “it’s a phase, it will pass”. She made feel like, like my feelings weren’t valid. That things I felt weren’t relevant because things were just a phase. I agreed with her and completely hid who I was until I was 14.
At this point, feelings were strong. Things just couldn’t be hid anymore. I had a talk with my, then best friend, and it took me one week to come out. I was so scared to get told it was a phase, to get my feelings shut down. Or to simply be looked like I was weird . But the most amazing, beautiful and incredible thing happened. She hugged me and said, ” no matter who you are, I love you. You are Ana to me. Today, tomorrow, next month. No matter what you will be Ana”. And that my friends, that is when I realized that life was more than what I thought. That all people thought different. And that I, I was going to be okay, no matter what happened. I felt so free, I felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could finally stand tall and breathe. Those simple words that to her might have not meant anything, was the fuel I needed, the strength to be me. I then proceeded to come out to a few other friends and unfortunately, the word spread to my parents. My very old fashion parents. One day I came home and they were on the table sitting down, they wouldn’t look at me, they looked upset. You know, that look you see when your parents are super mad at you and you feel the colour disappear from your face. I knew, I don’t know how but I knew. I sat down. And through a lecture about Adam, Eve, the Bible, and our values. I was forced to come out, again. After that, I went years of ” praying the gay away”. I went to church everyday, I was made to pray everyday. I read the Bible till I knew the pages down to the last wrinkle. I am Catholic, rosaries is what we do. I learned how to pray it in different ways, for different reasons. But through it all, my best friends words replayed over and over in my head. And I when I felt like I didn’t have no more fight in me I would ask myself. “Who is Ana?” . And my answer to myself was always the same “I am Ana, and I am free”. But unfortunately, at 16 I gave in to my deepest darkest demons and tried to commit suicide. I bought some pills from a person in school that sold drugs. I went to the bathroom. And I took, every single one. Next thing I know I was in the hospital, getting my stomach pumped with nurses and doctors yelling but everything was so faint. After it all, my dad said I left him no choice and he locked me up in a mental institution for months. With no visitors but him, no communication with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts. And just when I was losing my mind, a staff member said to me. “You know there is nothing wrong with you right?, I understand you. I have been you and all I can say is, it gets better.” Then the words from my best friend those years ago just slapped me like my mother when I stepped out of line and then I remembered. “I am Ana, and I am free!”. In my time there I found myself. I had time to think, to figure myself out. I then knew I wasn’t bisexual. I was a lesbian. It was so good to say it out loud to myself and anyone who would listen. Many many things happened after that. Many fights, I got kicked out of my parents home but I said, enough. No one will tell me who I can and can’t be. And I fought for myself, even when everyone gave me their backs. I got married with a woman and boy was that a trip. Then I got divorced over domestic violence and luckily my parents allowed me to be back home till I got back on my feet. Anyways I’m getting side tracked here sorry, haha. My point is, I know coming out is not always a pleasant story as some others. It’s full of emotions, confusion, theories of how it will be. So many things happen with different outcomes, some we see coming some we don’t. I don’t hold a grudge against my parents. I don’t hate them, hate is a strong word. I understand that there will always be people like them. People that will ask why? That will say ” you’re confused” or “it’s a phase”. But people like that is why I fight to be me. If someone asks me why I don’t date guys I ask them, well why don’t you date the same gender as you. Their answer is usually the same, silence. I fight To prove to them that this is not a phase. This is me. This is Ana, and I am Free..

Lesbian

I realised kind of early I guess, lucky I know. I realised about a year and a half ago when I was 15. When I realised I sort of started to see that just because I had realised it then, it didn’t mean I had changed, it was always inside of me I just didn’t understand it. I told a few friends and one brother, but not everyone, not yet. I used to get called tranny, because I wasn’t a ‘girly girl’, I liked cricket, never wore dresses or make up. I don’t want to be a guy, but I fear that even though I know that, admitting I like girls would just be another reason for people to assume I’m more like a guy. For a while it confused me, but I know now that liking girls doesn’t make me less of a girl, so I’m hoping to tell the rest of my family soon and be out, and I know what I feared may still happen, but I realise now that as long as I accept it about myself, it doesn’t matter what they think of it.

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK