Community Rainbow Waves

Human – but also very much gay

I have had a very fortunate journey unlike many of my LGBTQ+ brothers/sisters/non-binary folk. I became aware of my interest in the same sex from a young age. I specifically remember when I was in elementary school around age six or seven having crushes on my female classmates. At this time, I was unaware that many people across the world thought it was “morally” wrong to love members of the same sex in a romantic way. It wasn’t until one evening (when I was still in elementary school) that I was taking a shower and my mother came in unannounced. She was holding my diary. The very same diary that I expressed my feelings of attraction towards other girls. I don’t remember the exact conversation but I do remember that it made me feel like I needed to safeguard my emotions and keep what I was experiencing a secret, even from my family.

Fast forward to when I started middle school (around age 10-11 in the United States). I got my first “official” girlfriend who was on my club soccer team. I use quotations solely because we were very young & unexperienced and didn’t tell anyone about our relationship. Eventually, during this relationship, I wanted to tell my mom that I liked girls. I panicked but still managed to muster up the courage to send her a text message (classic, I know) while I was at school. I said something along the lines of “I have a crush on …, I don’t want you to be mad and I’m sorry”. I did it. I sent the message. I wasn’t worried about an immediate response because she is a teacher and wouldn’t be looking at her phone until the end of the day. Though, when it was time for me to ride the bus home and confront her, I was terrified. I got home before she did and pretended to be asleep to avoid the dreadful conversation that was ultimately inevitable. When we were finally face to face, I remember trying so hard to keep my emotions neutral but began bawling my eyes out. Her reaction wasn’t as I had hoped. Again, I don’t remember the whole conversation, but I do remember one thing that she said – “I don’t understand, I have friends that are girls and I have never felt this way”. That comment filled me with loneliness. Now, I have always had the “I simply don’t give a fuck” attitude and exterior, but that conversation broke me.

A few years later in high school (age 14-15), I had a different girlfriend who I believe I was in love with that was also on my soccer team. There was one evening my club had a meeting about future events that my mom drove me to. As we were pulling out of the parking lot to go home, my mom asked me a very simple question. She said “are you in a relationship with …? I can see the way you feel by the way you look at her”. It was then that I decided I was not going to lie about it anymore. I said yes and the whole 30-minute drive home, my mother cried in front of me as I sat quietly.

This whole time I think I have talked about my mother in a negative light, but I don’t want to portray her as someone who doesn’t support me. Currently, I am 23 and we have an amazing relationship in which she loves me unconditionally. The way she reacted while I was in elementary, middle, and high school wasn’t ideal, but it was a process for her just as much as me, and I grew to understand that throughout my childhood and adolescence. Mainly she was scared for me knowing about how people treat others once they discover they are a member of the LGBTQ+ community, she has always wanted to guarantee my safety.

I recognize that some people don’t care for my story and that’s okay, but I thought I would put it out there for reassurance for anyone who might need or want it. Unfortunately, not all stories end like mine. A lot of parents don’t understand or refuse to understand, causing an unmeasurable amount of pain, sorrow, distrust, etc. that never goes away for that individual. I want it to be known that it won’t always feel that way. One day you will be able to leave if you decide to. With that, there is a community that will always love you and let you know that your feelings and experiences are valid. You are loved and worthy.

Another topic I would like to speak on is mental health. (I know when will this bitch end omggggg). For my first year of college, I moved away and lived in a house with my friends. It was a truly remarkable experience that I love and cherish – but it is also a place where I experienced my first horrible panic attack. Note, I was very naïve back then and didn’t know what a panic attack was before that. It has been roughly five years since it happened and I still struggle with anxiety almost daily. It is okay to ask for help, it actually takes massive metaphorical balls to do so. Please know that you are strong. You are important. You and your story matters. Thank you.

Young, Southern, and Queer

Realizing you’re queer in the southern United States isn’t as hard as it used to be, but it isn’t a walk in the park. The first time I knew what a queer relationship was was about 2016. My oddball science teacher had gone on another tangent and she had ended up on the topic of LGBT people. In that moment, something in my brain clicked and I just immediately knew I was gay. Of course, I was only 12 at the time and didn’t know much about myself and it could be argued at that time that I was just trying to go along with whatever came my way. But I know now that it wasn’t as such. It was true. I was queer; I liked women. My parents found out I was questioning homosexuality not long after, and they instilled a fear in me. They made it quite clear that homosexuality was not going to be allowed in their house. So I hid. I denied myself of being gay. I refused to acknowledge it. About 2 years later, I kissed a boy for the first time and it just made me gag more than anything else. And a few weeks later, I had discovered some gay content and finally came to terms with accepting that part of myself. Since then, I’ve questioned my gender as well. Where I’m at right now, I say I am genderqueer, but I know that is subject to change as I age and grow. And I’m okay with that. My parents haven’t taken too well to all of this. It took them a while to finally accept me liking women, but they refuse to accept that I may be genderqueer or nonbinary. So I keep that to myself for now. I know who I am, and that’s what matters. Most recently, I’ve begun working to fight for LGBT rights in the south. For my college classes, I’ve written quite a few essays depicting specific LGBT issues and now am taking this summer to start working for change. I plan on lobbying in government and starting a movement. I have been inspired by Start The Wave in order to begin this chapter. I’ve always wanted to advocate, but with an organization like this showing the possibilities, I feel supported and empowered. Change is on the horizon.

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

I’m a trans-masculine nonbinary lesbian.

I realized that I liked women when I was thirteen. I recognized it and came out as bisexual when I was fourteen years old. I came out for the first time on 3/29/20. I kept searching for labels that fit better after realizing that bisexuality didn’t fit me. I began experimenting with they/them pronouns and my attraction to men decreased very quickly. I chose a new name for myself and began using they/them pronouns. I began identifying as a lesbian, and came out as a lesbian in June 2020. In July, I came out as nonbinary. I started dressing masculine and I felt a lot more comfortable. I was not accepted by my family after coming out, and I struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety and possibly ADHD. Even though I was out of the closet, I still struggled with internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality. My family continues to deadname and misgender me, despite all my efforts to correct them and get them to use my correct name and pronouns. I began to self harm to cope with gender dysphoria and my family’s rejection of my identity. I still live with my family and I am not currently able to get away from them or move out. Seeing the state of the country that I live in, and how it treated people like me worsened my feeling of hopelessness. My story does not have a happy ending yet, but I want to live to make it better. I am human. I’ve got goals, and dreams, and hopes. I am not just my past, and I am not just my trauma. I want to become an actor. I want to have a family one day. I want to adopt kids when I get older. I can’t wait to make some of my dreams come true.

FtM Trans Guy

When I was 5 I started realising I didn’t really fit in with the girls who I was forced into groups with. I was more interested in playing football than dancing and I had a significant amount more friends who were boys than friends who were girls. The boys saw me as one of them and if someone said that I couldn’t do anything because I’m “a girl” they would defend me and say that I’m different. They were right, I am different.

I’m different but my differences make me unique. My gender dysphoria went unnoticed to me until I was 10, around the same time I started puberty. I started hating the body I was in and wished I could be more like the boys who I played football with. My gender dysphoria was manageable until I was 15.

As soon as I turned 15 I had reached my breaking point. I began researching what this awful feeling of hatred I had towards my body was and almost every article I read and every video I watched told me it was the same thing: gender dysphoria. After that I did more research and discovered what it means to be transgender. I came to the conclusion that I’m trans and that I should probably create a list of names for myself to try out.

By January 2017 I decided to tell my friends about my identity and my new name. At that point, I was identifying as non-binary. One friend knew about what it means to be non-binary so was incredibly supportive and the rest of my friends just wanted what was best for me. They used my new name and my preferred pronouns and it was going really well until a few months later when I realised that I’m actually FtM (female to male) transgender.

After I told people I was changing my preferred name again and was using new pronouns some people stopped talking to me which made me feel even more hatred towards myself. I soon discovered that coming out as trans in a Catholic school was a terrible idea (well for me at least). Someone who had stopped talking to me because of my new identity told one of my bullies about my identity and it caused his bullying to escalate. I soon began regretting coming out.

One day during our biology lesson we were talking about reproduction and my bully asked how same sex couples reproduce. I answered him in a clear and concise way that same sex couples can use IVF or surrogacy in order to reproduce. At this point he turned around and said “oh, is that how you trans freaks do it to?” before pushing a desk towards me causing me to be trapped between two desks. My teacher ran over to help and asked him to leave the classroom immediately. I was ushered off with some of my friends to go sit in an empty art classroom whilst we were waiting for the school nurse to come and check me over. Luckily I was only bruised and nothing worse had happened. He was suspended for two weeks for bullying and inappropriate conduct (apparently it would have been much longer if I’d have actually admitted to being trans but at that point I was too scared to come out to teachers).

Flash forward to now (September 2020) and I’m about to start my second year of university. I still haven’t come out to my parents but I’m getting there. My online friends help a lot with reassuring me that I’ve always got a chosen family and that I look masculine enough. I’m now at ease with my labels of transgender and pansexual (an identity discovery I made only a few months ago).

Bisexual

When I was a kid, I was told a very narrow and close minded story about how women are only supposed to love men. Backed with the fear of that narrow thought, I pushed aside how I felt about other girls my entire life. I remember being small and having a best friend and loving her in such a deep and profound way and not knowing what it meant, being fearful of what it meant because I was told that I was supposed to love a boy the way I knew I loved my friend. As I got older, my parents began to change and became more understanding about what love means because I’ve tried to explain it to them and make sure they know that love is genuine no matter what gender you are or how you choose to identify. Last year, with nerves and fear, I finally told my mom that I like girls. I’m still attracted to guys but that just means I’m comfortable with and identify with being a bisexual female. My mom was way more accepting than I thought she would be. She told me that no matter who I love, she just wants me to be with someone who loves me as much as she knows I would love them. And my dad, who was my biggest fear ( he raised me very strictly before he began to see things in a different, more accepting way) told me that I’m his daughter and as long as I’m happy, then that’s all that matters. I realize that my story is much lighter than others. I see my brothers and sisters ( non-binary sibs too of course!) struggle and suffer to be free and I am with them. I love them. Every single one of them. I hope that you can find the peace and tranquility that you deserve to be your most authentic self. You are SO SO loved by me, by everyone in this community that is based on true, real, and authentic love. Thank you for allowing me to share.

Lesbian badass

Ever since I knew how to speak, I’ve always been drawn to females and never really to males? I didn’t grow up with a lot of representation so the word lesbian wasn’t very common. Gay was a big word growing up for me however, it was used in very negative connotations and that’s what started the repression part of my sexuality. I repressed it and thought it would just go away, I prayed for hours, I tried everything to make it go away and it wouldn’t. Until one lucky fateful day. Wynnona Earp. Season 1 episode 09. Bury Me With My Guns. One of the first LGBTQ+ couples I’d seen in the media. I was immediately struck. The show helped me realise that what I was wasn’t something bad. It was something beautiful. I was never truly able to accept myself at all before that. And after I told a few friends about it, I realised, I wasn’t alone. The majority of my friends experienced similar things, whether it be gender or sexuality. So I thank Emily Andras from the bottom of my heart for allowing such beautiful representation, and such accurate representation to find its way onto my (cracked-but-still-working) screen. 😀

Bisexual

I’d always known I wasn’t into boys. I appreciated them, got along with them, played sports with them, but I didn’t like being in a relationship with them. I spent a lot of my time watching old classic movies as a kid and watched how gentlemen treated women, and knew that the only way I or any other woman was to experience that in this day and age was to treat a girl like that myself. I had come out to my friends when I finished school at about 18. I didn’t get the opportunity to be with a woman till I was 22, and all it was was a drunken kiss, but after that, I knew for sure there was no going back. I had started a friendship with a girl I was working with at my local horse stables and after a few months of giving her chocolates and flowers, she came to stay at my place. During the week she stayed with me, she and I both opened up and told each other things we had never told anyone else. Our dreams, our hopes, our pasts. Nothing was off limits. The day before she went back to her place we spent the day just lounging around in bed, and for a brief moment, I thought she might kiss me, and as quickly as I thought it, she quickly moved away. I should point out at this stage that this woman had never even thought about being with a woman.
That night I went to stay with my ex, a guy, and told him of my feelings for this woman. He told me I was being ridiculous and no one would ever love me. The next night I went to stay at her place while her parents were overseas.
She taught her horse riding lesson, and we went home. We had showers, then went and laid in her bed. She had been quiet all day and I had started to worry I had scared her the day before, but suddenly in the darkness, she turned to me and told me she was confused, she didn’t know why she felt the way she did or what was happening, but she told me all she wanted to do was kiss me, and asked if I would be ok with her doing that. She kissed me, and the rest is history. Two weeks ago we celebrated out two year wedding anniversary.
My mother didn’t and still doesn’t accept our marriage, but the rest of my family love my wife to pieces. And why? Because she makes me happy. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters, is happiness and love.

The real Juls

I’m currently 28 years old and my journey started in the form of a great internal storm when I was 16 years old, I was studying in a religious school and to be honest Colombia in those years was not a progressive and comfortable environment to talk about issues such as diversity and sexual orientation.
I grew up in a catholic family, my school was catholic, and my training was guided by the principles of a catholic family, so anything that came out of that pattern was labeled taboo or people just made offensive jokes about it. During high school my friends always talked about boys, all my close friends had a boyfriend in the same classroom or in the same school and in the meantime I saw the boys only as friends, the idea of ​​having a boyfriend never crossed my mind, in fact it always seemed irrelevant to me. With the girls it was very different, I felt that “something” that was absent when I saw a boy, but I always kept silent because, due to my ignorance, I thought it was something irrelevant and temporary, perhaps simple admiration.
At university nothing changed, I saw a girl and I still felt the same but this time with a little more freedom to obtain information I was able to find too many articles and LGBT content that helped me to know that something real was happening to me. When I finished university, 6 years had already passed and what started as a storm inside me became an authentic apocalypse, it was many years where the silence had wreaked havoc. What was stopping me? My family. I imagined a situation where I would tell my family and terror would take over because I could hear their voices saying “What have we failed at?”, So to release some of that destructive anxiety I started by telling my closest friends and they gave me that warmth and understanding I needed to keep myself sane at least until I told my family. It took me another year to gather all the strength to tell my family that it only consists of my mother and godmother that I’m a lesbian. The terror I felt when I told them is indescribable, my lips and throat were dry, I could not formulate a coherent phrase and my body was blocked but I could do it and I could feel free, that was…like 4 or 5 years ago I don’t remember well and I still feel that my mother has not assimilated it 100% because she is also the connection with my father’s family and I know that no one in that circle knows it, only my godmother’s family knows it.
I am an only child, perhaps that is why my mother still doesn’t fully assimilate it because she expected from me what almost all parents expect from their children: husband/wife and children but it doesn’t matter because my mother already knows and she will not see me with masks and lying to her, she will understand it 100% someday. Right now I’m calm, there are not storms inside me anymore.

Queer Cultured Woman

My entire life I was raised to be independent and Culturally open to everyone around me. As an African-American I can state that, we are “open” to everything/one but not really “everything” as I modestly like to put it.

Being born A Haitian-American female was A defining factor in determining my sexuality. The cultural restrictions made me feel blocked, lost, and burdensome to my family. I was fortunate enough to have a family that loved me regardless, which in my community is VERY RARE.
My mom like Dominique, is my ROCK.
I have been blessed with a family that supports my love regardless whom that maybe with.

I self identify as a (Queer-Cultured Woman) for all of the young QUEER brown girls who have never felt they could come out. Especially, in my country of Haiti.

(you WILL survive, you will find happiness, you will become whole)

I was 18 when I first fell in love.
I am 28 today, with so much more now!
I have experienced so much more of life,
I am so optimistic for the future with huge thanks to this forum and Dominique

Today, I am making another “WAVE” by telling MY story. For the first time.
“OUT IS THE NEW IN