Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

When I was fourteen I came out to my mother after I’ve been pretty sure that I was gay for a year or so. But she reacted the total opposite way of what I was expecting… saying that “it’s just a phase and I was too young to know stuff like this, I just haven’t met the right boy yet.” And that I was “lucky she wasn’t goint to tell my father about it.” Skipping to 2019, as I finally had the guts to institutionolize myself into a psychiatry after almost ten years of major mental health issues, I tried to be brave once again and come out to my mother. She apologized for the way she reacted back then and fully supports me in every desicion I make in my new out and proud life. It’s partly thanks to you, Dominique, and all the other actors who represented the queer community during this tough period of my life, that I am still alive today and grateful for every day I have on this earth. <3

Proud Bisexual

I knew when I was a freshman in high school. I was in love with my best friend. We never tried a relationship. I was torn. It was a hard process for family acceptance. It’s been a constant struggle. I continue to be out and proud and love who I love. I’ve been in a relationship with my girlfriend for 2 years. It’s my first same sex relationship. We’re slowly coming out to everyone and being proud of who we’re with.

To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered

I was going to make up this fake encouraging story to help people in the closet see a story where the journey out isnt always painful and hard. But that’s not my truth. It’s time to stop being ashamed of my past and start being honest of my coming out. Or rather lack there of.

I was outed.

I was outed in a large scale, it could seem small to some but it felt like everything I knew was crashing down on me.

I’ve always been told I feel. I’m a feeler. I feel greatly and deeply. Everything goes in my ears and directly to my heart.

My parents always say they’re so proud I came out so young and not many can do such a thing, they deny their part in my “coming out”. I would do anything for love and affection to the point where I let them believe that’s how it went just for their praise. But this isn’t about them. It’s about me.

My story starts at 12 years old, in 7th grade at a new school. I had sunk so far into myself I’d pushed all my friends away because I thought this world didnt want me. I acted on those thoughts and tried to escape to no avail.

I spent a lot of time at home, watching shows and reading books because relating to the characters gave me a sense that I wasnt alone. Soon enough I’d stumbled upon a show that I’ll never forget, Wynonna Earp. Through that show I learned that girls could love other girls. I soon pondered if I’d felt those feelings aswell. Scared of my own thoughts I turned to my mother, “mom,” I’d said “I think I like girls. Romantically.”

She said I had time to figure it out.

The next thing I know I’m at my dads house he starts talking to me about what I told my mom, I cried myself to sleep that night, my trust so violated.

Soon all my siblings new, my dads new girlfriend too. I tried talking about it with a girl who I’d been best friends with the year before. Suddenly that popular girls at school knew everything. I was terrified in my deeply homophobic school.

That summer I went to a wedding away for a cousin of mine. We were having fun and talking at the rehearsal dinner out on the patio when my dad brought up the fact that I liked girls. Everyone looked at me as I immediately stood up and sprinted into the bushes, I didnt leave for hours sobbing even when it started pouring rain.

I’ve had more than just those experiences, and a few good ones after when I’d actually got to come out.

But even through all that pain, I came out stronger (no pun intended).

Now almost 3 years later I’m an out and proud lesbian, advocating for our community in the ways that I can. At 14 years old, I’ve planned and attended Queer Proms, Attend a Queer Youth Group, Had my own Billboard with a Queer relationship on it in Time Square, Planned a Queer Youth Trivia Night, started a Gender Sexuality Alliance, brought in a Queer Non Binary Public Speaker to educate my homophobic school how to have common decency, Helped all my friends come out, and so much more. I’m so proud of myself.

Ps. Dom I’m so proud of you!!

It’s all about Genders and Boundaries: When all I feel is Love.

When I was little, my mom always put me in a variety of dresses, which, let’s face it, was never practical for the sporty girl I was.
I was about 10 years old when I ran down the hallway and jumped in my Stepmom’s arms at the end of The TIME OF MY LIFE (Dirty Dancing). And, because I trusted her with all my heart, because I think she picked me blushing when Jennifer Grey would appear on the screen,
The next day, she casually came out as bisexual as if she had just announced the weather. I blushed, chocked on my dinner and avoided my family’s eye contact.
I felt shame. I felt ashamed of the spectrum she had put words upon in such an easy way in front of my wide (queer) eyes open. Because it is what we are taught to avoid: Looking at it in the bright light.
But soon, I felt love. When she taught us about this intimate journey, smoothing the path under my footsteps as if in a look, she knew, that I just started my wild ride towards my inner self.
As I grew up, I started putting on loose clothing, for the easy purpose of being comfortable until it wasn’t a choice anymore. Due to back issues, I wore a corset, 24/7 for 5 years, the exact time of my puberty. I had to shop exclusively in the man section which means, I quickly met judgment, hate and violence from my said friends.
But I had this beautiful light of strength still burning somewhere in me. So, because I had no control over my body or the pain, I decided to cut my hair. I took control and I looked at society, with no woman form, short hair, and surely no confidence and what you can imagine happened. I became a little boy to the eyes of the world. And for a second, it felt simple, I was finally allowed to be attracted to girls too.
Quickly, it felt wrong, I was proud to be a Woman. I wanted everyone to see me as one. I hated that to be myself, I had to be seen as “different”. Still, I was week, young ad broken. So, I grew my hair back an in a way, I gave up. I ran away from every crowd, I feared people noticing me.
Until someone made me realized that I would never shine brighter to MYSELF, being THEIR idea of a woman, if I just disappeared.
She was the first girl of my age with short hair. Unless, she wasn’t staring at the crowd, frightened to be seen differently. So, I asked her, an easy question: “How did you do it?”
And she answered: “Well, I loved it. And if it’s what you love. If you feel yourself when doing it, then screw everybody’s opinion, you’re the one who can write your story.”
The wild journey towards happiness began at this point. Of course, I did cut my hair. And eventually, discovered the power of dressing as you want. Far away from anyone’s expectations, full of colours and patterns, I became the gendered fashion’s tightrope walker. One step in every section, a style in all.
I came out to my family, who were obviously expecting it (especially my stepmom and slowly the rest of them).
I managed to seduce for the past two years, a wonderful, brave and smart woman to stand by my side.
And, Yes,
It is still incredibly frightening, and hard, every day, not to be able to put myself out in the world, without earrings and be misgendered.
But I’m kind to myself. I think I’m pretty great and really, I’m only 18. My whole life is ahead of me, and I don’t know more than 1 per cent of my future self.
What I know is,
I’ll make sure that this 1 big per cent is kind and loving and brings light to other people’s eyes and hearts.
So that one day, I get to sit down at a dinner table and open a new colourful and safe world to a dreamy, blushing, beautiful human being.

Fiona

My journey began when I was 16. I found myself being completely infatuated with a girl at school. I had huge butterflies in my stomach every time I saw her. I found myself checking women and freaking out that I was doing this. When I was 17, things were changing again because I was starting to have fantasies involving women. Again, I was panicking because I didn’t want to be gay. At 18, I accepted myself as a lesbian but I was still scared of coming out to my friends and family.

Moving on to being now 22 years old, I went to London for a working holiday and to meet a woman (a fellow South African) who I had been chatting with online for a long time.

While I was there, I spent a lot of time with my now ex-girlfriend and we went to a club together called Heaven. I saw people being who they are, not being scared. That was the moment that I felt I have to come out to my family.

I felt that I had to tell my mom that I am lesbian and did so via email while I was in London.
I spoke to my Mom again when I got back from London. She was OK about as long as I was happy but also curious to know if I wanted to get married and have children.

(This was when same sex marriage was not legal yet in South Africa)

My sister was surprised and I never told my Dad as he was homophobic.

It’s great to be open and free to be who I am.

A Lesbian. Happy to love this world without judgement, full of kindness and unconditional love. Can’t forget the jokes that come with it too

When I graduated high school. I found a girl that made me look at this world differently. She gave me what no other guy would and that’s hope. Hope to believe in loving someone for who they are. It was like a blindfold was taken off my eyes to see the beautiful colors this world had to offer. I had never felt the butterflies in my stomach before or the fireworks when we kissed. It was like I found my sense of peace with every kiss, every touch, every breath. My life started to make sense. My best friend at the time was the first to know and she gave me the support I needed. My mom was suspicious at the time and brought me out to eat lunch one day to muster up the courage to ask “are you dating ‘that’ girl?” My heart dropped… I couldn’t believe those words, I never in a million years would have suspected that my own mother, being the traditionalist she is, to say those words. I just stared in shock and she said “just tell me the truth, yes or no?” My next response was “well kind of”, I couldn’t come up with the courage to say “yes, that is my girlfriend” because of how I was raised. I always remember a time when I was little that we passed a same sex couple and she said “look away, I can’t believe they go out in public.” That’s the scene that always kept replaying in my mind when I saw a girl pass by me and telling myself “you can’t like girls”. She sat me at that restaurant telling me “that girl changed you, if you would have never met her you would still be normal.” To this day I still believe my story was easy compared to most. I’ve heard other people’s story that make me give thanks I had the support I was blessed with. After that day it was like a ripple effect. All my cousins called or texted me with almost the same phrase, “we already knew.” I felt like I was kicked out of the closet at that point because I never got to tell anyone, it was always “we already knew and we love you and support you.” To my relief I was happy I didn’t have to tell anyone, but I still to this day fear telling anyone I’m lesbian. (So my relief backfired big time) My father was the one who didn’t take it so well because he stopped talking to me for three years just to process and take a lot of hate out of his heart. Before me getting pushed out the closet, he would pass a gay couple and yell at them for holding hands or being close to each other. So you can imagine afterwards, he was speechless that his only daughter was a lesbian and wasn’t going to procreate with a man and have children with the white picket fence. My parents were recently divorced at the time and to hear both of them finally agree on making me go to therapy to make me “normal”, broke me down. I haven’t ever been a crier because I have always been an emotional rock for my mom and that day I’m pretty sure I could have filled a swimming pool with my tears. I kept repeating “I don’t know what’s happening but when I’m with her I feel relieved, like I’m whole and I love her.” The look on their faces was just disbelief, never have they seen me cry and be so passionate about someone I loved. I remember we all left quietly because they were speechless. After seven years, I can now say my parents love me and accept me for who I am. We can have conversations about my sexuality (even though the explicit ones are kind of uncomfortable and I try to avoid them) and they are more at peace with it. I can finally express myself through my clothing and I wear my suits proudly. I tried the whole short hair thing and I think long hair is a sexier option for me. Now I speak to everyone and just listen to their opinions whether they be for the community or against us and instead of argue with them, I show them what the truth of it all is by just being myself. So when I do get the courage to tell them I’m lesbian they step back and say “huh, that’s not what I expected” and understand that we’re all human. Doesn’t matter who you love, you are human first of all and that’s all that matters. So live like no one cares, love like no ones watching and laugh as much as possible (p.s. you get years back every time you do so laugh back the years you’ve lost in the closet.) I feel like I wrote you guys a novel but it’s from the bottom of my heart. I hope this story can give at least one person a smile and that this community can help you find your light. Have an awesome day and may you live every day with love and kindness. Thanks for reading my story. See ya

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

I am a transgender man.

I grew up very clueless about anything lgbtq+, but even then I got lucky enough to have a mother that didn’t push me to be or feel any certain way, so when I was old enough to form my own sense of self I 100% knew-or at least I though I did. From the age of 11 I identified as a lesbian and felt confident in my identity. I had used YouTube and tumblr to find out things on my own and come to a firm sense of “yes this is me.” I told my mother not long after and, she to no surprise, was loving and supportive. I lived, identifying as a lesbian until I was 16, but something never felt right. I began high school at 14, kept most of my childhood friends, and even started a relationship with an amazing girl! But not long after, the discomfort in myself grew and grew until I was so uncomfortable in my own skin that it left me locked in my bedroom. The discomfort had always been there ever since I was a child, but I had always ignored it-so it confused me as to why it was getting unbearable now. I once again turned to YouTube and tumblr for help. I did my own research, and heard people’s stories-they gave a words to put to a feeling. It was a realization of “I feel like that too.” I wasn’t a lesbian, but a man. All of my discomfort and hatred of the thought of looking down in the shower, and fear of going out in public finally had a word, transgender. My girlfriend was the first to know, she loved and supported me. She was patient when there were days when I couldn’t be touched. She helped me test out a few different names. A couple months go by and I come out a second time to my mom. She was again loving as supported (and also not surprised). She bought me my first binder, and she tried(s) her very best to use he/him or gender neutral pronouns. I am now 19 and starting my journey to hormone replacement therapy. I got so lucky to have such a strong support system. My story is a very positive one and I am forever grateful for my mom, my friends, and my girlfriend.

Thank you for reading my story 🙂

Still figuring things out 🙂

I’m still very young, I am only in my mid teens but I’ve known that I had feelings for girls since I was like 7 or 8. I live in quite a small town and had no representation around me apart from in the odd tv show, I thought sexuality was as linear as just either straight or gay. As a 7 year old that had certain feelings towards girls but also fancied a boy in her class this very small concept on sexuality made me very confused on who I was and what I was meant to feel.
I went to church with my nanny even though my parents weren’t super religious and had sort of picked up through the years that love was supposedly only meant to be between a man and a woman. I was a very anxious child and the idea of hell was terrifying to me so the fact I had been taught that that’s were I would end up if I continued feeling the way I did made me very very scared. Now I know that I have been made the way I am and I’m not going to get punished or condemned for just being me so I’ve been able to overcome the that fear. And the thought of a big pride party in a lgbtq+ section in hell makes me giggle a bit.
The year or two of fear and confusion led me to just suppress it as much as I could and just try get on with the normal things a 9 year old should be worried about. My attraction to girls always just stayed in the back of my head and by the age of 12 I had learnt about bisexuality so anytime the thought creeped back into my head i just sort of went ok well your probably bisexual but that’s good because you can still just end up with a man.
I always avoided the thought until around the start of 2020 when my best friend told me she liked me, at first I was just like ok chill and didn’t think much of it until I started thinking did I feel the same. Over a month or two I stopped hiding from my sexuality which was pretty easy as I spent a lot of time just by myself because of lockdown. It was a lot easier than when I was younger as I had my friend who felt the same as I did.
In this time I labelled myself Bi and talked about it with a few of my close friends. they were all supportive and to my surprise a lot of them were also questioning their sexuality. Deep down I still felt unsettled about being bi apparently undoing years of internalized homophobia towards yourself isn’t the easiest thing to do. Thankfully I had several friends around me on the same journey so I never felt abnormal in my friend group.
I started watching just about every show with the slightest wlw representation in it because I’ve always used tv for comfort or an escape so maybe these shows could help me feel more comfortable with myself. It was sort of difficult to find a show that had a good representation of a wlw representation but then Bly manor came out and a short time later I found Wynonna Earp. Even though Dani and Jamie’s relationship didn’t end the happiest it was still a beautiful story and it was never made a huge thing that they fell in love with the same gender it just focused on their love story and the plot of the show. The same with Nicole and Waverly, it was never made out to be something so shocking that they fell in love with each other, it was also nice seeing Waverly accept her sexuality there was no 3 seasons of her questioning, it was simply a oh well that’s new, a slight hiccup then a, well I love this person so why should it matter if they are the same gender as me. This definitely helped me view my future, potentially with a woman, with a lot more ease.
In the past month or so I have started to question myself a lot again on whether I am bisexual or lesbian. I think watching these shows and realizing that ending up with a man isn’t the only normal thing has made me think whether my very few experiences with having feelings towards men were real or simply because I had been taught since birth that was the “normal” thing or the way I had to feel to fit in with society.
I am still very young and have so many things to figure out and do but at the moment I am happy with my sexuality whatever my specific label is. I am not out to my family but actually just a few hours ago my sister told me if I ever had an attraction to woman I could tell her because she would never want me to feel alone. safe to say I cried a little but I am very happy that I have support from at least one of my family members.

apologies if anything doesn’t make sense I’m not the best writer but I’m very grateful to be able to share 🙂

STAR

Hello !!!!! I’m not one for labels , but what is fitting is transgender bisexual. I had my bisexual realization early on, I was in kindergarden and kissed a girl on the playground. My transgender one, however , came later in my life, around the time of middle school. I wasn’t feeling comfortable in my body, around my friends and family, or even whenever no one was around. I wasn’t happy anymore. I looked in the mirror, closed my eyes, and asked myself what would make me happy. I saw myself as a boy. And that surprised me. I talked to a friend, and they told me about the term transgender. That is when I figured out who I was.
Now I didn’t really have the chance to come out much. I only came out to a few people, but then the news spread like wildfire. My friends at my school were all accepting of me, some of them wished I told them myself, others were glad they new. But then it got to my parents, and they didn’t accept me at all. It was rough. Everyday I would cry just wanting my home life to be better. I almost took my own life. But then I found a “secret gay club” at my school. A bunch of lgbtq+ people came together after school on Friday’s to talk about their problems their stories and even just how they were feeling that day. I found a home there (even though I only went to about 3 meetings). They helped me learn to accept myself for who I am, labels or not.
Now it has been about 3 years since I have come out. Things have gone up and down but are gradually getting better. I have had a few people who have supported me throughout, and I couldn’t be more grateful. My home life is slowly but surely getting better, and even if it doesn’t I still have a few people who love me for who I am.
For anyone struggling to figure out who they are, finding what labels works for them, or are struggling with acceptance from themselves or others, THINGS GET BETTER !!! I PROMISE THEY DO !!! You have your whole life to figure out who you are. You don’t have to have a label if you don’t want to, you can just be you. Overtime, you will find acceptance. Whether it’s through someone you meet, people warming up to the idea of who you are, or even through sites like this, there will always be a community that will accept you. You just have to breathe, give it time, and never give up on yourself.