Community Rainbow Waves

A transwoman, finally able to be herself

I first realized something about me was different when I was about 14. All the boys in my religious private school, which was gender segregated, started noticing girls. I noticed girls, and boys, but more importantly I wanted to be the girls. This was during a time when it was very much not acceptable to be trans. And in the religious community where I lived, even more so. I was told, “a person can either be queer, or they can be Jewish. They can’t be both.” And the Jewish community was my world, my life. It was everything I knew.

Over the next few years, I struggled with myself and my identity, up-and-down and up-and-down. I tried to pray the gay away. I tried being hyper masculine, to offset what I knew was the real person inside me. Nothing worked, nothing made the pain of living a lie go away. And I would spiral up-and-down and up-and-down. And then I couldn’t take it anymore.

I sat my spouse down, and I explained to her how I have been feeling and how I was not the person that she thought she married. I had my bags packed, and I fully expected her to throw me out. And to my utter surprise, and as I started sobbing common she didn’t. She hugged me and said “OK. Let’s deal with this together.”

Since then, I have come out, I’m living my truth, and I could never be happier. I’ve met family members who I never knew before, and found the family of my heart. And I could not possibly be happier. My wife accepts me for who I am, my children accept me for who I am. And that’s all that’s really important.

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.

Queer

I guess all through primary school I was always boy-crazy I had crush after crush, then when I got to high-school I met my new bestie group of friends, in that group was a girl for privacy reasons let’s call her Kate, she was already out she had been a while and I guess I liked hanging out with her I thought I just really liked her as a bestie but we grew closer until I was in art class one day and my friend(not real name) Lauren was talking to me and I completely zoned out and she just looked at me and asked me “are you thinking about Kate” I was Co fuse because I was and she just knew by how I looked at her that I had feeling s for her anyway moving on from Kate we dated for a little while and now we are just friends but we are still really close friends and those feeling are gone. I really didn’t know what I was because I had never gone out with a boy properly just a girl when I was quite young so there was no way of knowing my sexual identity. I knew this boy (not real name) josh liked me and I guess he was nice so I decided to ask him out and we really didn’t click so I still didnt know. I then heard of this show wynonna earp and my gay best friend keira (not her real name) told me about it she said it is what helped her discover herself and that the two gay charecters in it really spoke to her so I watched it and by season 2 I was so into it and I defiantly had a huge crush on the actor who played nicole so I guess I had girls down on my checklist to sexuality. After a few months if figuring myself out I realised that the people I liked I didn’t see gender I just liked who I liked boys, girls, FTM, MTF, so a day or 2 ago I was searching things about what my sexuality could be and I came across this website and I read through dominique provost chalkleys story and it helped me identify myself and who I loved and I am very greatful for that so now I am out to my mum, brother and my friends it’s just my dad left to tell which I am terrified about but I think with the right words I can do it
Thank you all who helped me discover myself (“kate”,,”Lauren”, “keira”, kat barrel, dominique provost-chalkley.)

Queer all the way

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

Morgan, she/they

TW//Homophobic slur. I guess I started questioning myself around 8th grade. All throughout middle school I had boyfriends and I was happy with that. But in 8th I was dating this guy, Alex, and we couldnt drive so his older sister (I was 13, he 14 and his sister 15) drove us when we wanted to go out. I started talking to her more and more cause she’d drive me home and such, and I remember I really wanted to be her friend. And I remember one day Alex came to school in a bad mood and I asked him what was wrong and he said, “My sisters a fag” really nonchalantly. And I grew up in a religious house and a conservative town so that wasnt really a thing you could be, but I still knew he wasnt suppose to say that word. I yelled at him and he just walked away and he didnt mention it again. I was really confused after finding that out because me and his sister had a lot in common (didnt wants kids/ husband, wanted tattoos/piercing and into art). It honestly scared me because my parents made their negative views on gay people very clear. So flash forward a few months: I just choose not to think about because I liked being with Alex so I must be straight. I got in trouble at school (buying alcohol) and got suspended. I had the choice to either go to rehab for my ‘addiction’ (not an addiction only had it a few times) or a psych ward (for depression or my eating disorder). I figured to go to inpainet rather than rehab. Once their I met alot of people and we went around saying our names and pronouns. I was so confused I didnt even know it was a thing to change your pronouns. But my roomate Liz was bi. One day we had a group counseling sessions and she was talking about how her parents didnt accept her and what not. Later it was bedtime and we were still both awake and I asked how she knew she was bi. She said she knew because she got butterflys in her stomach when she held a girls hand and she always admired girls looks and wanted to be their friend. I though ‘oh’ and thats kinda how I realized it. After a week I went into outpaient for a little under a month and then returned to school. I broke up with Alex after I got back, and told my best friend that I thought i was bi. She gave me a hug and told me that i’d love Greys Anatomy then. It scared the shit out of me to tell her but I knew she wouldnt care. But flash forward once more to now, im a sophmore that idenifies as bi with a girlfriend that i love. Im only out to people really close to me and havent told my family. I no longer talk to Alex but still talk with his sister (who actually turned me into veganism) and my best friend is still along side me (who was right, i loved Greys Anatomy).

Bisexual

I didn’t grow up with much role models or people who understood what it meant to be part of the LGBTQIA community. Coming from both a religious and hispanic background it’s not something that’s easily seen or accepted. I was 14 when I had my first boyfriend, I really liked him and I was sure that my journey would continue to go straight as planned or how my family expected, but, not every relationship is meant to last. When I turned 15 I was a sophomore in high-school and I had developed feelings for my then best friend. It took three attempts for her to finally want to go out with me, talk about a challenge! It’s high-school and we were young but, it was my first true experience with love or the concept of falling in love. I knew I was bisexual from the moment I realized that I was attracted to both men and women.

Fast Forward to my 2nd year in college 2016, I came out to my super religiously Catholic mom. It was hard probably one of the hardest experiences of my life because I knew she wouldn’t accept it. But I needed to accept it, it needed to feel real and I needed to live my truth. Presently, it’s been four years and my mom still struggles with who I am and who I choose to love. I know some people find it difficult yet, I love my family, it’s hard to change the mindset of people who were raised and exposed to things a certain way, I don’t blame her for not accepting me. But I am very hopeful she will come around, our relationship isn’t the greatest but then again my mother is 65 years old and I’m going to be 24 this year, we’re different souls from different times and that’s ok.

I’m truly at peace with who I am and I know patience is key, accepting myself is and was the first step to my ongoing journey. Going back to what I said earlier, I didn’t grow up with representation or role models, in fact I might be the first openly bisexual member of my family, and I have quite a big family, I’m the youngest of five. Wynonna Earp wasn’t just a show that let me feel represented as a member of the LGBTQIA, but, it’s also a show where there’s a badass female lead and badass female casts, and it represents freedom. The writing is freeing and provides relief the actresses and actors are so refreshing and I’m proud to say that this is the first time I feel apart of something even if physically I’m not, if that makes sense. I’m free. I just hope that someone managed to read all this and feels apart of something great, because you are great, you are loved, and you are beautiful. Live freely, life’s to short not to.

I am enough

I grew up afraid of being myself. Scared to be different, anymore so than I already was. I didn’t have a normal childhood by any means and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. At the ripe age of 5 I remember telling my mother my father was cheating on her and a week later we were moving from Ohio to Florida to live with my grandmother. Fast forward 3 years and two days before my 8th birthday my mother dropped by sister and I off at my grandmother’s house for what was supposed to be the weekend, which lasted for about 9 years.
I remember feeling abandoned, unwanted and unloved by the 2 people in the world who are supposed to be the ones who do that unconditionally and without labels and expectations. Being told at 8 years old that your mother doesn’t want you and isn’t coming back for you, that your father never wanted you and more or less feeling like a burden led to a lifetime of anxiety and insecurities.
The last thing I wanted to be was different in any other way but the universe had other plans.
Being queer wasn’t something I was sure anyone in my family would accept and more or less confirmed after my uncle came out. The first thing that I recall my grandmother and mother saying afterwards to each other was that they didn’t care that he was gay as long as they didn’t have to see it. I was maybe 12 or 13 at the time and knew my saying I love everyone regardless of gender or that I love love would be met with the same mindset by them so I hid who I was. I continued to be the simple self sufficient kid that they didn’t have to pay much attention to since I was the normal smart child who didn’t have any problems or issues she couldn’t solve on her own and I became really good at hiding who I was as well as the anxiety and fear so they wouldn’t treat me any differently.
Growing up my older sister and I were always close and we joke that I was her first child since she was always making sure I had what I needed and was my safe place. She has always known that I always saw love as love and didn’t judge or label people and treated me with the same courtesy. She has always known me better than I know myself even without me telling her I was queer she knew and accepted it when I did tell her finally. I took cutting out toxic relationships, mediation and finally being me for me to come out to her but she told me she knew already and just wants her hippie , peace loving, hates confrontation but will fight for who and what she loves, wants to change the world , wants to make every stray a pet, kind, smart-ass, sarcastic, too smart for her own good, protective, love is love baby sister to be happy ( and yes that is who she describes me to someone when asked). So I may not have come out to my entire family but the most important person in my world knows and accepts me for who I am without labels and with just love

Anonymous

i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

I like to identify as Gay / Lesbian

Growing up it wasn’t gay or lesbian. In my house it was “homosexual” and it certainly was not a topic of conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I was never told it was a bad thing. My church didn’t tell me I was going to hell. It just simply was not talked about and according to my Mom it was a mental illness that could be cured with therapy (although it had been removed from the DSM in 1973.) When I think back on it I probably started questioning my sexuality when I was about 12 or 13. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening. I just knew that any time I would talk about having a crush on a guy it felt forced. My budding teenage self didn’t have a clue.

When I first started questioning the only out Lesbians, I knew of was a teacher that used to work at the school where my Mom taught. My mom vilified her and talked about how much she disliked her. The other out lesbian I knew of was K.D. Lang. Again, my mind wasn’t thinking in terms of lesbian or gay. These were unfamiliar terms for me. I had heard them, but they almost felt dirty.

At the same time my brother who was of college age would come home talking about bands that were playing at his college, bands like Indigo Girls, REM, B-52s (yes, I am a Georgia girl.) My brother would also frequently talk about his friendship with Keith. I remember wanting to have a solid friendship like my brother had with Keith. I never had many friends growing up. I was very Introverted, still am, bordering on the clinical diagnosis of shy. My friend was whatever book I was reading at the time and the adventures it would show me.

I had been told by my Mom that it was normal for girls to be curious about other girls. Because my Mom said my feelings were normal, I never really felt like I was questioning anything. I just thought all girls thought like I did, and it was OK. Any time I felt weird about anything there was always an explanation. I would get embarrassed having to change out for gym because I was trying so hard to control where my eyes went. Mom said, “honey that’s normal everybody is embarrassed to change out for gym.” I would get “girl crushes” all the time. Mom said, “honey that’s normal girls get crushes on other girls all the time.” There was always an explanation for how I was feeling, and it was always “normal.”

When I was 19, I had just ended my first relationship. It was my first romantic relationship and the one and only relationship with a man. I was in college living at home. I was being exposed to different things. Indigo Girls where my favorite musicians followed up with Melissa Ethridge coming in at a close second. A friend of mine took me to a gay bar. I was more nervous about using an ID that did not belong to me to get in than I was to go to a gay bar. The ID wasn’t fake, it just wasn’t mine.

Once inside I remember seeing a young man with short blond hair. I only saw him from the back. But from the angle I saw he looked good. I remember commenting to my friend “to bad he is gay, he looks cute.” My friend said, “oh, that’s Chris, I’ll introduce you.” The introduction never happened. I remember being socially terrified and ran to the bathroom so I could hide. Later I found out that my friend had given Chris my phone number and told her I was interested. I was mortified both that I hid and that my friend had said I was interested in her. Chris never did call but I was secretly hoping she would.

As I am writing this and now looking back, clearly, I was a Lesbian. I was so “normal” I just hadn’t figured it out yet. I started to test the waters at this time with the idea of coming out and was desperately looking for someone who I could tell and would help me with my journey. I knew no one. I had always been told anything I needed to know I could learn from books. This was pre-internet. I couldn’t find any books about it. There was not gay/lesbian section in my local bookstore. I was a English major at the time so I used the reference section of my college library to find anything I could about being a lesbian. Most everything I found was related to men and it was some interesting at times and weird at times information. It just never told me what I wanted to know. I tried to come out to a person at my church at the time. I was told she was going through a divorce at the time and couldn’t deal with my problems too. It was probably the best.

Skip a few years ahead, I am now 21. Ellen has just come out. Now I know of three people who are out lesbians. My list was growing. The Internet was all the rage. If you were anybody, you had AOL and you would check out chat rooms to “meet” people outside of your bubble. This is where I ultimately met my first girlfriend. We had been “chatting” with each other for a couple of months before she said “hey, we should meet!” I knew she lived north of Atlanta. I had not seen a picture. I hadn’t even come out yet. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was interested the meet this person I seemed to know so intimately yet did not know at all. My over-protective mother had never allowed me to drive to Atlanta. I wasn’t sure how she would take this news. I knew there was no way I could tell her, “Mom, I’m driving to Atlanta to meet a girl that I think I might like. We have been talking on the computer for months. No, I don’t know what she looks like. Yes, I am going.” So, I told my Mom that I was going to Atlanta to visit my brother and Keith. Yes, they finally moved in together.

I wasn’t stupid, I knew if I was going to some random bookstore to meet someone, I had never seen I should probably tell someone. Just in case. I couldn’t tell my brother. I cornered Keith in their kitchen and said, “Before I tell you anything, I need to know that you and my brother are a couple.” Keith responded with calling out my brother’s name and saying, “get your ass in here and tell your sister that you are gay.” Learning this news opened so much more. It now meant that I had someone I could talk to. I “fessed up” and told them my plans. They were both very encouraging and told me to have fun.

It was on this occasion in October of 1998 that the woman I was supposed to meet kissed me. I had been kissed before but this time I understood what people meant when then said something was magical or they saw fireworks. I wish I could say that this first girlfriend and I fell in love and lived happily ever after. That is okay because eight years later when it was the right time for both of us, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 14 years.

A. Ward – Georgia