Community Rainbow Waves

An Empowered Gay Woman

Coming out, for me, never really ends. I come out to new friends, to family, to coworkers, to the woman at the grocer who asks if I’m cooking for my boyfriend, to the stadium of people watching the “kiss cam” and to the man politely asking for my number at a crowded pub. Coming out is choosing to be honest, every day, and battling the fear of others’ responses.

I used to think that coming out was selfish, as if telling someone that I am attracted to women would only benefit me. It’s taken an immense amount of growth and education to believe in the power that standing together provides. Knowing the strength that I have now, I wish I had had faith in others sooner.

I grew up in a household that did not discuss sexuality in any form. We didn’t talk about relationships, or intimacy, and especially not about sex. Being the only girl, the gender expectations were enough to overwhelm me, let alone the differences I noticed in myself at a young age. My religious views told me homosexuality was a sin, and was best left unspoken.

When my friends began to develop crushes or dream of their perfect futures with a husband on a white ranch with kids and dogs, I failed to share that. I wasn’t sure what my future would hold, but I knew I didn’t want the same things. At 10 years old, I knew something about me was different.

When it came time to start dating, I once again felt no connection to the boys around me. I loved being around my friends, but I felt different from them. That scared the shit out of me. I thought: maybe I just didn’t understand. I had never been in love, never shared myself with someone, never had sex– so how did I know for sure?

And so I began dating my best friend. He made me laugh, was kind and generous, was adored by my family, and truly respected me. We made a great couple, and an even better team. For a while, I could forget my attraction towards women. Everyone was happy, and this life didn’t seem so bad.

My best friend knew me better than that, though. He sat down with me one day and asked if this was what I truly wanted. He said that I didn’t seem fulfilled, that if there was something I was missing in my life, I should go for it. It wasn’t until a year later and a few more attempts at heterosexual relationships that I finally understood.

The process was hard. I couldn’t state my sexuality in the mirror to myself, let alone to other people, and even less so to those who had known me my entire life. I spent hours crying to myself, journalling dreams that wouldn’t come true, and praying that I could be normal.

The problem with that was that I was normal. I am normal. Being queer does not make me abnormal.

I finally told a friend, and her acceptance encouraged more honesty. I needed a calm and quiet place for those closest to me, where I could tell my story and they could ask questions. I slowly began to feel more comfortable in my own skin, and began to rely on the support for this immensely powerful community. A community full of love and trust.

My family’s response is still difficult to handle today. They are scared for me, religiously and socially. I will always love them, but I take comfort in the encouragement I have received from others and hope one day they will share that same support.

Much like the rainbow that symbolizes the queer community, coming out can be an upward battle sometimes. There are times you may be scared shitless, and there are unfortunate times when people do not understand. But, there is growing education and knowledge to be supported and protected. With kindness, and with love, there will come a time when each person can love and be loved for who they are. And much more than there are negative responses, there are amazing and rewarding experiences, too.

Life surprises you.

The love of my life sits beside me, reading, hair a mess and glasses on, curled up under her favorite blanket and music in the background. I can look at her with no doubt in my mind that this is where I am meant to be. The discomfort and unrest that I felt as a child has settled.

I have found a home with a coalition of courageous, charitable, passionate people.

I am a gay woman.

I am out. I am proud. I stand by every human on their journey and hope that it is known how much they are loved.

I suppose my coming out story will never truly end. There will always be someone to tell, a situation that assumes I am straight. But I have faith that kindness prevails, and that each of us can be celebrated for our differences, rather than scared of them.

Each of us deserves love. And I can promise, if you give yourself to this community, they will give themselves to you, too.

Out Truly Is The New In.

I identify myself as a lesbian

I came out as a lesbian to my mom when I was 13, she took it well at the beginning but she didn’t want me to tell other people and she wasn’t friendly to the idea of having a lesbian child, She didn’t want me to wear rainbows or other stuff that could let people think I was lgbt I disagreed and still told my friends and family (except my grandparents) and was finally accepting myself for who I am.

A self reflection

I honestly haven’t come out because I’m scared and unsure how my family will react. I had a bestfriend that as time past we became closer and closer. I began to catch feelings for her. When I found out she felt the same, we just went with it because we didn’t really talk about it. Now, I begin to question myself of my sexuality and feel like I’m gay but then again I’m unsure if I really am.

I am here, and I am queer.

When I was really young, in kindergarten and elementary school, I used to wear whatever I felt comfortable in. I had no concept of gender and no concept of sexuality. As I got older, into middle school and high school, I started realizing that I was somehow “different” than everyone around me. I didn’t look like other girls in my class, and while I did try my best to wear what everyone around me was wearing, I never felt like I was “pulling it off”. I would try my best to be as feminine as I could, but it never really stuck and it certainly didn’t feel like me. I never cared if the boys thought I was cute, and I always got super self conscious around my girlfriends.

It wasn’t until high school that everything clicked. I realized like a flip of a light switch I wasn’t into men, but rather women. For a long time I tried to suppress that side of myself because the idea of forever being “different” terrified me. Many nights I spent awake, thinking of ways to undo it or talk myself out of it. Unfortunately, a few of my peers caught wind of my realization and soon I was outed to the entirety of my high school. At first I was absolutely terrified, but there wasn’t anything I could do at that point. I made the choice to claim it and own it (which I know is way easier said than done in some situations). It felt like a silver lining to me that everyone knew and I didn’t have to say the words, because I still hadn’t accepted it truly and I still wasn’t okay with it deep down.

It wasn’t until I made it to college and found a safe queer space that I realized just how truly incredible all of these amazing people around me were. After so much sole searching and simplifying of my life, I was finally able to genuinely accept who I was. Half way through college I started struggling a lot with the idea of gender. I thought, by being gay, it would make sense that I had more of a masculine demeanor (you know, stereotypes and all).

Oh how I was wrong.

These incredible people around me, coupled with amazing representation online, helped me to understand that even though our society genders absolutely everything, it doesn’t mean you have to label yourself as one. See it never felt right for me to call myself a “girl” and it definitely didn’t feel right calling myself a “boy” either. I was so confused thinking I had to put myself in a box so everyone around me felt comfortable. But the truth is, I don’t need to be either male or female, that being a person who is kind and honest is far more than good enough.

It’s incredible spaces like these that bring me so much pride and make it so much easier to say that I am apart of this beautiful community. That sexuality and gender can exist in all their fluidity, or they can not exist at all. That labeling yourself is an option in this world, but it certainly doesn’t have to be a requirement. Mostly, I’ve realized that being gentle with the world and the people in it, no matter the struggle, is far too under-appreciated.

I hope each and everyone of you, no matter how hard or easy your journey has been (or is currently), find nothing but love and support.

With all my love, Casey (KS, USA)
I am gay. I am genderqueer. I am here.

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.

Bisexual

Accepting me was a very tough process. Living in a closed-minded country, with homophobic parents and in a school that I knew did not support the community made me question myself many times, it made me live in an environment where I believed that my feelings were not valid. It was thanks to the performances on tv shows and being part of the lgbtq + community on twitter that made me realize that my feelings are valid and normal. I have not yet had the courage to come out with my family because I know it will be difficult, I have tried to see their reactions but we have always ended in discussions and at this moment I depend economically on them for my studies so I have not been able to do it. I met amazing people on twitter who are from my country (Peru) and who have helped and inspired me a lot in my journey and I hope that later I can come out into the world to say how proud I am to be who I am.

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.

Sarah’s Story

Hello, my name is Sarah and Im just about to turn 30 and this is my coming out story.
Ever since high school I had always had the thought that I wasn’t straight. Things that I would think and my actions around girls. But, I always pushed it away. I thought that I had just not found the right guy yet. In college I still had those thing feelings towards girls. But again, I pushed it deep down and ignored it. In 2010 when I was 20 I joined the United States Air Force. When I joined, you couldn’t serve if you were out. So again I pushed all these thoughts about girls deep down. Don’t ask, Don’t tell was repealed in September of 2011. However by that time I had been dating this nice man for almost a year and I thought I was happy. He was nice, charming and seemed to really love me. So in December of 2012 we got married. I thought it was the right thing to do. I really did think that I loved him in a more than friends way. Even while married, sometimes the whole “but am I gay?” thoughts would pop in my head. I was scared of them so I ignored them. In 2014 my son was born. There, I thought, I have it all. I’m married, have a house and a kid. What more could I want? But idk, the marriage just never seemed enough or seemed right? We moved to a new base in Summer 2016. It was really hard. Then in the fall of 2016, I met one of my best friends)we will call him “M”. He had almost the same story as me. At the time, he had been married to his wife for many years. In 2017 him and his wife separated. He came out as gay. And I thought, wow, okay, so you can come out as an adult? I honestly didn’t think that it was a thing. I had thought it was something I would have figured out as a teenager and I just had weird thoughts sometimes. fast forward to June 2018. Me and my now ex-husband got in another stupid fight, we decided we just weren’t meant to be. (disclaimer: he is a great guy and a great dad and we still have a very good relationship). For the first time in almost 6 years I allowed myself to actually have thoughts about my sexuality. Am I bi? Am I gay? What is happening? One day me and “M” were having a conversation, I couldn’t even tell you what it was about exactly. But he said to me, Sarah, I think you are gay. And just something in that moment made all the tumblers fall into place. Yes, I am. I am absolutely a lesbian. At that moment, everything just felt right. It was okay. It was okay for me to be 28 and just realizing that I was a lesbian. So I started living my life as out, as I actually was. I told my sister and my college best friend. They were happy and very supportive. My other best friends at work now knew, they didn’t care. They accepted me for me. The only people left to tell were my parents. I dreaded it. I was scared. What if they were disappointed? What if they didn’t want anything to do with me? But I had to do it. To me, I couldn’t live my life fully like I was intended to until they knew. So in the fall of 2019 I faced time them both in the same afternoon (they are divorced). I consider myself incredibly blessed with my parents. Both of them 100% support me even if they were shocked. They still both continue to support me. And it is amazing. So here I am, turning 30 yrs old April 6th. I am now fully out, Im about to live my best life with my kiddo (when its my week) and my 4 cats. Coming out was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But it is amazing to be able to be who I actually was intended to be. So here’s to turning 30. It’s going to be a great decade!

Thompkell (she/her)

I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”

Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.

I had to make a choice.

So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.

The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.

I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.

Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?

But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.

I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.

Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.

But what is a “coming out story”?

I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.

What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.

And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.

Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.

Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo

Bisexual

I knew that I was bisexual when I was in 10 grade and decided not lie to myself anymore because this is who I am and I don’t want to suppress myself. First I came out to my oldest brother it was funny because he didn’t care much he just wanted me to be happy. Next I told my religious mother she is a catholic. I came out to her right after I told her I was molested didn’t really matter it did it really matter after she expressed her dislike for the LGBTQ+ community, but nonetheless she loved me for who I was. She told me “you are my daughter and I will love you no matter what” so that really upped my spirit. I have not come out to my dad but I plan on it being soon I trust for him not get mad because he once asked me if I had a boyfriend yet then right after asked what about a girlfriend. I felt relieved when he had said that. It made me feel loved. And when I am ready and not afraid I will come out to everyone else my friends and family.