Community Rainbow Waves

Talitha

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT HATE CRIMES.

I am not really good at writing about myself or my experiences,
I suppose first I should say I am a lesbian.
I have been out and proud for over 12 years probably longer if I really
think about it, I have not always embraced who I was, whether that be
because I am afraid or because I had no role model to really look up to
growing up which I am sure many people say.
In my school it was not okay to be different, being different got you a
one way ticket to hell, when I was in school and just coming into my
sexuality and figuring out who I was as a girl I saw my best friend
being beaten his hair set on fire all because he was gay and he was out
and proud and at the time I didn’t that to happen to me, I didn’t want
to be bullied or beaten simply because I chose to love women and so I
sat in my own little bubble protecting the most important part of
myself.
It took years for me to feel even just a bit confident to admit to my
best friend that I was a lesbian and even longer to tell my mum which
was more of me crying and refusing to actually say the words until she
guessed what it was I was trying to say. My mum was supportive which
doesn’t always happen and in that respect I was very, very lucky I could
have had it much worse.
My father was a different story even though he said he wasn’t bothered
by it, I could tell our relationship had changed and yes it is upsetting
but I moved on I wanted to get rid of any negativity in my life and only
bring about positive change.
Then the worst thing happened, something which set me so far back in my
journey to discover who I was as a woman. My nan went to hospital the
same year I came out, so I hid again from the world, from who I really
was and I pushed it so far down within myself, I had never told my nan
who I was because I was afraid she would hate me. My mum told me after
my nan had died (2012) that my nan knew I was gay and that my panic and
self hatred (I hated myself around this time and turned to ways that
were not so healthy to cope) were for nothing, that I was still her
granddaughter whom she loved with all her heart. Flash forward 8 years
and now I own my sexuality and I am not afraid of it, I have a beautiful
wife whom I love with all my heart and I am an ear for anyone who is
coming to terms with who they are my door is always open to those that
need it and that’s the kind of positivity I want to show the world that
being gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, queer or anything else doesn’t
matter to me as long as you are a good person.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Work in progress

I believe I have also found my truth but I’m not sure if it will ever be uncovered but i’m working on it!

I grew up in the 80s & with parents who didn’t talk about “that sort of thing”

When i was at high school which was an all girls school, I played a lot of sport (& still do) & I was always trying to impress the girls (& still am lol) but I always came back to thinking it was wrong and that it was expected to find a nice boy and get married etc. But that never happened!

I’ve always been very body conscious & so I wasn’t very confident in speaking to men and I wasn’t one for going out much either.

A couple of years ago I came across “Wynnona Earp” & I loved it from the very 1st episode but especially Waverley and Nicole. I’m a little bit obsessed with their relationship & i often think that I would love to have a relationship like that. Think turning 50 also made me realise it was time to think of myself and what I really wanted.

However, I still haven’t told anyone & if i am honest I am scared to. There have been a couple of times that I’ve thought about discussing it with a friend who is gay & also a couple of my best friends but i always chicken out. I am thinking that i will when/if i meet that special someone but until then just keep quiet.

This is the 1st time I’ve really opened up about my feelings & it feels good & I have Dom, Kat, “Wynona Earp” & the fandom to thank for that.

Attending my first ever con last year and being amongst such an amazing community made me realise that this is the right path for me.

Libby (she/her)

since i’m still really young and somewhat closeted, there’s not a ton that i can do, but i try everyday to make someone else smile. i make sure that my friends know they’re valid and that how they feel is valid. i make sure they know they’re loved. coming to the realization that i was gay was pretty difficult. especially because i’ve grown up christian, so i just assumed that i should be homophobic because that’s how it works, right? it wasn’t until i hit middle school that i realized that just because i’m christian i don’t have to be homophobic. my friends started coming out to me and i realized that it doesn’t matter that they’re gay because i still love them and being gay hasn’t changed who they are. it’s just given them more confidence and that’s beautiful! by seeing how confident my friends were in coming out and just being themselves, it gave me the courage to explore my queerness. there was a lot of internalized homophobia which made it difficult to to finally just say to myself that i don’t like boys. but eventually, i got there. coming out to my friends was pretty easy since most of my friends were already out to me. the friends i was really anxious to come out to we’re my church friends. i could’ve chosen to just stay in the closet and hide part of me from them, but the more i tried to hide it, the harder it became to be around them. and not being around them really hurt because they’re some of my BEST friends! so one day, i decided to just go for it. i told all of them individually and to my surprise, they were ok with it! they know i’m gay and they still love me! they put up with my stupid gay jokes and all of my weird hand gestures. i am so lucky to have friends like them and i realize that not everyone is this lucky, but if you’re struggling to come out, or you want to come out but you’re not sure of your label yet, this is my advice to you: you don’t need a label to be valid. wait until you’re ready. don’t force yourself out of the closet. wait until you’re sure you’re ready. you don’t have to tell everyone all at once. you can pick just a few people or even just one person to come out to. if that person/those people don’t accept you at first, give them time. think about how long it took you to accept yourself! if they say that they can never accept you, i know it hurts, but remember that there is an ENTIRE COMMUNITY right here who is ready to accept and love you for exactly who you are! for all of my christen queer folks, i know that people often say “jesus said that being gay is wrong” or “being gay is a sin”, but that’s not true. jesus never ONCE said that being is wrong. your sexuality is NOT a sin, but even if it was, god says that all sins are equal! and jesus died FOR our sins! so that they may be forgiven!! you can be queer and christen. god still loves you! (i know this was really long. sorry) i hope this made you smile and/or gave you validation.

Nonbinary/ queer

I think some part of me always new that I wasn’t a girl. I dressed in boys clothes and I hated wearing anything that made me look feminine. When I was diagnosed with autism (aged 12) I assumed that that was the reason I felt different. About a year later I started questioning my sexuality. It took about 2 years before I accepted myself as gay. I came out to a few friends who were really accepting and I finally felt happy with myself, but I didn’t feel whole. Like I’d just told people something so they’d understand, but it wasn’t me. For about 2 years I kept having lapses in thoughts about my gender. It got to the point where I gave up and decided to just present myself in a way that made me comfortable. So I cut my hair short and changed my name. A couple of months later I had a sudden realisation moment where I realised that I’m nonbinary. Two days later I came out to my friend who I had previously come out to as gay. It took a couple of months to come out to my family. It took some time for me to fully accept the dysphoria I have about my chest and I got a binder. I recently started causually slipping into conversations that I’m nonbinary to anyone who doesn’t know yet. I feel like this isn’t my definitive coming out story though. As someone who is queer I am constantly coming out to people whether it’s my gender or sexuality, but this is how I found out who i am as a person.

A series of moments

I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.

I only remember a series of moments along the way.

I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.

I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.

I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.

I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.

I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.

I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.

I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?

I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.

I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.

I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.

I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.

I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.

I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.

I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.

I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.

I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.

I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?

I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.

I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.

I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.

For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.

I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.

The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.

I am queer

I have always felt “out of place.” Dressing like a “tomboy” from the age I was finally able to dress myself everyday. I wanted to hang out with the boys on the playground and play video games with my uncles. Then much later on, in the 7th grade, I started coming across the LGBTQ+ community. It was in brief passing, but slowly and surely I started doing research into the vast world of gender and sexual orientations. I tried to tell my family this over that summer…it didn’t go well. The first person I told was my cousin. He was my best friend at the time. However, he ended up telling his parents who would then tell mine. My parents tried to accept me, but ultimately they just didn’t understand. They didn’t understand how this “change” could just come out of nowhere. Why I wanted to cut my hair and start dressing differently. Most importantly, they were worried that once I came out how it would reflect on them. They were scared. So I hid my identity. I was only true to my close group of friends, who would later on abandon me as well. This lack of support caused me to fall into a deep depression and struggle with mental health for over 4 years now. But, in the midst of all the darkness, I found people who accepted me. I found my best friend. I found my first girlfriend. We dated for several months, however my mom eventually forced me to stop seeing her. Now I live relatively closeted. Waiting for a place I know is safe, free from judgment. But I know who I am. I am queer. I am 16. I am a female. I am a survivor. And I will remain true to myself no matter what because the bravest thing you can do is be yourself <3

Christine H.

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.

Dakota, cisgender, lesbian, she/her

I grew up in a small country town in South Carolina. I was always a tomboy, playing with the boys, playing sports and loved getting dirty. I always felt different from everyone, especially girls, and I never understood why. In high school, I had thoughts that maybe I was gay but never understood the term because I never had any representation. Dating guys never worked out so I just assumed I was a broken human. I ended up going to college at a small school in the Northeast and played college softball. One of my teammates was basically like you’re gay and that’s how I pretty much came out to myself. Then the process of coming out to all my friends (they were all great and knew before I did). My favorite thing about college was the ability to discover myself: how I dressed, acted, etc and how comfortable I was. I did discover the pain that comes with heartbreak during my 4 years of undergrad. The struggle of discovering your sexuality at a later age means facing the trial and errors of dating as an adult (confusion, awkwardness). I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time (lol). The hardest person I had to come out to was my dad (at 23) and I still feel like I have to pretend to be someone different around him. It’s a long and hard process. Everyday, I feel like I am discovering something new about myself. It’s definitely tough being a woman who likes the same gender but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Hopefully, one day I can find the love of my life and show her how amazing life can be. It hasn’t been the easiest for me in the 25 years I’ve been alive but if you believe, it can only go up from here.

Embracing my rainbow

My secondary school was single-sex, so I was constantly surrounded by girls. 8am-3pm Monday to Friday, the only people in my life were girls and women. It wasn’t until I was in either year 10 or 11 that I realised I had a crush on a girl in my school. She was so intelligent, beautiful and funny, and she was one of the only people who really saw me and bothered to speak or listen to me. I tried to ignore it for so long, putting the feelings down to wanting to be her friends or he like her. It wasn’t until year 12 when I got my first boyfriend that I realised it was more than that. I loved my boyfriend but I felt more when I looked at or thought about girls. Our relationship went downhill fast and within only a few months I was single again.
Since then I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know myself – who I am, what I want from life/a partner, and it’s been okay. When I first properly realised my attraction to girls I gave myself the label of bisexual and came out to one of my best friends who I’d met through tumblr. She came out to me at the same time and it was the best feeling knowing that I had someone in exactly the same position as me who I could talk to. When I started university we both began questioning our identity again and it was with her support that I was able to start identifying as gay.
There’s alway been that voice in the back of my head saying “you’re not gay. You’re faking. You’re bi. You’re straight. Stop lying to yourself” and everyday I’m learning how to fight it. It’s now been 3 years since I started identifying as gay and I’m out to all of my friends, as well as my parents who I told last weekend (something which I didn’t think would happen and which was completely accidental).
I’m still terrified of fully being myself and embracing my rainbow. Keeping this part of me hidden for so long has felt like I was being suffocated but it feels amazing to finally be free.

I’m me.
I’m free.
I’m gay.
I’m not going to hide it away.

I’m embracing my rainbow and letting my flag fly high.