Community Rainbow Waves

I’m a woman who’s proud to love other women

My coming-out story is a loooong journey. I first faced my homosexuality when I was 18. I’d left my family-nest to pursue my studies, and it really was the first time I was left alone with myself. It became a journey, during which I discovered myself entirely.
And I met that one girl. She was gay, and I completely fell for her. That moment was the starting point of a really long thinking about my sexuality and myself in general. Each step was full of sadness and pain … but also full of joy. It took me 6 months to tell my closest friends about being in love with a woman. More than a year to completely accept and embrace my homosexuality.
But the hardest part was telling my family. I’m really close to them, we share everything and love each other so fucking much. Taking the risk to lose all of this by telling them my truth, it was unimaginable for me. So I kept it inside of me for 4 (very long) years. The thing is, I was exhausted. Exhausted of lying to the ones I love, of hiding my feelings and a huge part of my life.
That is why, on January 1st 2019, I confessed to my family about my homosexuality. And, damn it, all the feedbacks I received were full of love and acceptance. I was scared of crying because they would reject me. Instead, I cried only tears of joy because they accepted me. Whole of me.
Nowadays, I’m a very happy 24 years-old gay AF woman.
M.
From France.

I am a lesbian.

I knew I was part of the community when I was young and I just never really knew what “gay” felt like so then I got older(16 now) I finally got the courage to tell my parents, but first I told my friend by passing a note, then she said she was bi too and then I came out to my mom but couldn’t tell my dad because I feel like he had a whole other perspective on it, but my mom secretly told my dad and he is cool with it. I told my sister and she is very supportive of it and we have a closer bond together and we always joke around and pick out my “future girlfriend.” My whole family is supportive of me, including my grandma, and doesn’t think any different of me and I can’t wait for what the future holds for me!

Midori Mori

Growing up, I didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that I was different. I never needed words like Tomboy, gay, or Freaky Freshman Asian to know that I didn’t belong in a crowd of one million. But people would always feel the need to remind me of this everyday. Whether it was the moms who would cram their daughters into a bathroom stall if they saw me come in or the adults who would kick me out of locker rooms, all I could assume was that I was disgusting.

Indecent. That was the scent that followed me. A smell so pungent that it would only worsen if one tried to wash it off; A fragrance that’s been rubbed into society since the beginning of time. So I wore a mask called shame made out of lies. The more lies I smeared onto it the harder it was to breathe. Until I met a teacher who asked me to strip away the 40-ton shield I was holding. And even as my hands were shaking she managed to pull off that mask; extinguishing the fear that laid beneath it. Taking in a breath of clean air, I realized that I slowly stopped smelling this indecency and in turn, others did too.

We are told growing up that “different” meant imperfection. Imperfection meant ugly. But I want this to serve as a mirror for those like me who grew up without one. I want people of all identities and backgrounds to read this and understand that it’s okay to stand out, it’s okay if you don’t know where you stand. Because far worse than being oppressed for your differences is knowing that you’ve spent your life pleasing people at the expense of your happiness. Happiness we all deserve.

“I am made and remade continually”.

For me, realizing that I was a lesbian was probably the easiest part of my identity. I was in 8th grade and came out to my school in a research paper I had written on gender-neutral bathrooms (as one does).

This year, as an 18 year old student nurse, I felt that something about me was wrong.

I began to question whether or not I was a lesbian. I have always had moments where I thought that maybe I just hadn’t found the right guy yet. Eventually, I’d realize that was comphet and that I was very much a lesbian.

This summer, it hit me. It wasn’t the term “lesbian” that made me uncomfy. It was the term “girl”.

I think it would be fair to say that I spent well over 24 hours just scrolling through blog posts, coming out videos, twitter profiles, etc., all with one common topic: Non-binary.

I struggled for a long time trying to accept the fact that I was non-binary. I had always felt a close relationship with my womanhood and female empowerment. But some days, I feel very disconnected from it all.

Realizing that I was, in fact, non-binary was the easier step of my gender exploration.

I cannot tell you how many times I opened my social media accounts to change my pronouns from “she/her” to “she/they”. The tight squeeze I would feel in my throat always prevented me from solidifying that. I had many fears. Can I still identify as a lesbian? I still feel like a girl most days, am I non-binary? What if I change my pronouns back later on and people think I’m a fraud?

Reading it now, I’m giggling to myself at how silly my concerns were. Eventually, I gathered the nerve to come out to my friends, who received it very very well. I have yet to tell my family and, if I’m being honest, I don’t think I ever will. It is a part of my identity that I like to keep to myself. To my friends. I don’t feel so strongly about having to tell my family because I’m still the same person I was before I changed my pronouns. Sure, I’ll tell them if they ask why my pronouns say “she/they”. But I don’t feel that I have to make it well-known that I’m enby. And that’s okay!

So, the point of sharing this crazy story? To remind any of you that you are not alone. Sexuality is fluid. Gender is fluid. Identity is fluid. Feel free to experiment, to change, to find who you really are. Because once you find that part of yourself that just feels so right, everything around you begins to fall into place.

I’m Reagan. I’m 18 years old, and I am a non-binary lesbian.

On my way, hoping to get there soon…

I guess I always knew way back when I was a kid, but I had no idea what it was and why I felt that way. I just wasn’t what was deemed “normal”. I started acknowledging it for myself as I was going through adolescence and all throughout college and then sort of embraced it after graduation. But to be honest, I still don’t feel safe or free – as I wish I could be – to declare my truth. To some I am able to tell them, while to most I keep quiet… either way, I am never without fear of being rejected or seen differently, like I become a different person from the one they’ve come to know as soon as I confirm what they probably already thought. I still fear that I will never be taken seriously professionally or deserving of the same respect as a person just because of who I am. I am still afraid but I am also hopeful that one day, I’d get there – where I am free to just be me and no longer afraid.

She/her/they/them, gay, queer, Asian-American

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR.

I think the instinct was always there but I never thought that being gay was an option where I grew up. In my parents’ home culture, being queer was simply dismissed, as something not real and it really messed with my head when I first truly realized I was attracted to women. Even though in high school, I did have friends who were lesbian and bisexual, I couldn’t see myself ever being one of them. I still remember the night I saw the first woman I was strongly drawn to. It was when I was watching her in a performance that was so passionate and evocative. I thought, “oh God, she is attractive.” That night, I sat down, wrestling with my newfound feelings which I had never felt before in grade school. It was a crush, but I finally understood all those love songs that I didn’t really identify with, because they were mainly heterosexual love representations.

It still took me five years to come out. In between was a rollercoaster of identity crisis, unrequited love, and finding self-acceptance that I was gay. I even entered a relationship with a boy just to see if I could suppress my true attractions. It ended up becoming so toxic because at the end of the day, I could not bring myself to be attracted to him. There was a lot of coercion and I let him because I thought I didn’t deserve any better. The homophobia I had towards myself led me to being desperate to be in control of anything, which included my own body image. I developed an eating disorder, and mentally and emotionally killing my own body. Finally, at the end of college, I looked at myself, gaunt, low-sex drive, thinning hair, and empty. This was not working. I left the relationship, cut my hair, and began to pick up the pieces that were left of me.

Fortunately, that same summer, I found friends who I could be open with about my sexuality. I don’t think I ever had to explain myself or the things I went through to them, but they accepted me without question. I still owe it to them for basically saving my life. My weight went back to normal, and I was beginning to find ways to be more confident little by little. I went to pride parades, watched films and shows with queer characters (Wynonna Earp), and slowly but surely began piecing together my tattered self. I met more queer people who were kind and essential to me becoming more forthcoming in my queerness.

In the year 2017, I survived and graduated with a masters degree in teaching. I was far from being a true professional, but one thing I knew I could do was to start being more authentic. How could I teach students to believe and be themselves if I didn’t do the same? I came out, shakily, to my parents. I had to tell my older sister first, who helped me bring it up with my mother. She looked at me and said I her native language, “well I figured, seeing you brought home an effing big rainbow flag from San Francisco.” I laughed and I also cried. My dad heard, but is still not understanding quite yet. Perhaps he never will, but I was out and I was grateful he didn’t dismiss me or kick me out.

Fast forward to today, I’m pretty much out to people I care about most. There are still many scars, and healing to be done, but I’m just glad to be able to be out and proud as I am. Is it the perfect life? Of course not. I still struggle a lot as a fellow human. I still struggle with mental health and trauma. Would I choose to live any other way? Also no. Because at the end of the day, I realize that all of us who choose to be who we really are, are most able to show the love that this world desperately needs. I am proud of being myself, for the first time in my life.

Thanks for reading, and happy coming out!

Power in knowledge

I’m 17, and I don’t know myself. Or at least I don’t think I want to know myself. As a child, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to because I didn’t have any siblings (other than a dog). I turned to the media, video games, and fictional characters from TV shows and movies to feel a connection to someone or something. Man, I would sit in front of the TV as a kid and watch these shows where I saw these beautiful people and I would always imagine myself pretending that I was their friend. And as I got older, the same thing happened where I continued enjoying characters. But then around my older teenage years, I realized that maybe it wasn’t an “obsession” with the characters, it was that I really liked them. And I was confused because no one had ever really mentioned this feeling to me, but in my mind, it just made sense. And I’m a relatively athletic person, so I got the whole “tomboy” thing as a kid, so people probably chalked it up to that. But I didn’t. Because, as of recently, I figured out who I was. And while only select people know, it’s cool to like the best of both worlds. Like God must have invented males and females for everyone’s enjoyment, so why not enjoy them both? And I’m lucky to be able to say my parents would be accepting of me, but in a way, I feel like they know, so I have avoided making it a “thing,” because why should they focus on a part of me that’s just who I am? There is no reason. And thanks to many TV shows, like Wynonna Earp and their amazing characters and cast, and movies, and just people in general, they have helped me with who I am.

Kata

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

First of all sorry in advance for the mistakes, but I am not a native english speaker…
I was about 16 when I realized I was gay. The story is simple. I fell in love with an extraordinary girl, who was my best friend. I really felt lost, and alone, and scared. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship so I stayed quiet for a while.
She had a really difficult time with her adoptive parents, who wanted to get rid of her, so I really didn’t want to make things even more difficult for her. But as my feeling were eating me alive I got to a point where I knew I have to admit I love her. And I did. And quess what? She felt the same. And I was the happiest girl in the whole word. For a while…
Then we started to came out to our closest friends, and they were all amazing about it. Except this one girl who outed us in front of the entire school. That is when things started to go down. We were afraid to hold hands, becuase incidents happened. Someone threw stones on me. Someone spat on me. I started to feel worthless. I was afraid to come out to my family. I was, well, I still am a Christian. I couldn’t match my belief and my sexuality. I tried to pray the gay away… But nothing helped. My grandmother just suddenly died, and that was the last drop in the glass.
I tried to commit suicide, as you can see without success. And I didn’t want to tell my family the reasons. As I was in the hospital my sister found my blog online as it was trending, and she told me she knows about me being gay. She told me she loved me no matter what. I am very grateful to her to this day, becuase I really needed to hear those words from her. Then I came out to my mother, which was the scariest thing. It was hard. She acted like everything was cool, but I knew something was wrong. One day I saw her cry, and asked what happened. I asked if she is crying becuase of me. And she said yes, and my heart broke into a million pcs… That’s it. I was thinking she doesn’t love me anymore, and she’ll kick me out. And then she told me she cries becuase she doesn’t want me to be afraid to hold my partner’s hand on the streets, she doesn’t want me to be unhappy. And that was it. We cried for a long time in each other’s arms. The rest is history. This was more than 12 years ago. Now, as I am near 30 I am fully out. To those who are not out yet and are struggling, please know that it gets better. You are not alone, you have a whole army behind you. It will get better.

Sunsets on Mars are blue

I’ve always liked science and reading about anything and everything I could. I grew up as a very curious kid, and was mix of sporty and bookworm. I loved structure and the sense of control that sports gave me. But what I was never able to achieve was to be feminine enough to be seen as a traditional girl and of course I was not a boy either. I was once again a dycotomy, and that mix in my gender expression translated for over fifteen years in being a loner. I love learning and as much as reading about society and history makes me passionate, I came to recognize that I had been avoiding knowing about myself, my truth self. For years I tried to model my behaviour and looks to fit into some image others had created of me and I was so thirsty to fullfill, specially what I thought my parents wanted me to be. I admit now that I was scared of the knowledge that was already deep inside me: I liked girls. The simple thought of it felt to me like I was flirting with something that was out of my reach. I tried to numb it during my teen age years until I relapsed into an episode of severe depression. Now I wonder how many years of deep sadness I could have avoided if I had listened to myself instead of letting the outside noise damp my own voice. I have always known I am gay. Proof of that is how many times I had crushes with female superheroes (Hallee Berry as Storm in XMen was maybe my first) and how many times I craved to be more similar to certain strong female figures (like Ronda Rousy). The knowledge was always there, waiting for me to open that chapter of my own life. My self-acceptance felt like washing my worries away while getting soaked in pouring rain: cleansing and comforting. Then came my very first real relationship with some girl I met in college that quickly morphed into a psychologically violent relationship. It still stings to think of myself as an intimate partner violence survivor as well as a sexual assault survivor. I failed to protect myself because I focused on filling an image that wasn’t my own. Now as I work as a therapist and have made peace with my past I wonder, how many other queer kids like me are in a greater danger to be hurt because they feel the need to hide? How many adults grow up as broken humans because they get denied the chance to shine in their own light? I mourn for the queer kid I was. For that little girl who loved sports and to dress like a boy, who loved climbing trees and wanted more than anything to be able to be the red Power Ranger instead of the pink one. I mourn for all the queer kids like me who are still waiting to shine. If one of you is reading this I can tell you, it gets better, you are loved and wanted just as you are. I finally made peace, I am in a relationship sith a wonderful woman who showed me her acceptance and love to my truth self when she looked for sciencey facts that she knew would make me happy to know. Now in my ribs shines my tattoo with the first fun fact she looked for me: Sunsets on Mars are blue.
I am not longer afraid of knowing myself completely: I am a therapist, still love science, I love sports, I still dress a lot of times more masculine. I am a gay woman and proud. I am loved. I am valid. I am wanted. I belong.
So if you are still seeking, still waiting, if you feel alone I tell you this: I got your back, always, I am your family now. You are wanted, you are loved, please keep shining with your own light.

Not coming out on my own terms

I knew that I was different from the age of six. I grew up in a neighborhood that primarily had boys my age and I got to grow up with them and plays sports, get dirty and pretend to be Power Rangers (my best friend and I always fought over being the red ranger) and I absolutely loved playing with these guys. I never had a silly childhood crush. That is until a girl our age moved in across the street. I didn’t really have any female friends when I was younger but the ones I had were nice. There was something different about this girl though and I didn’t process what it was until I got older. But at the time my best friend had a huge crush on her and it made me really mad. To the point where I would start dressing like him and doing things the other boys did to flirt with a girl. Until my best friend called me out on it and said it wouldn’t work because I’m a girl and girls can’t like other girls. In my mind at the time, he was right.

I never had crushes in elementary school. I was never interested. By middle school, everybody I hung out with had a boyfriend or was into a boy. There wasn’t a single boy that I had a crush on then. It led me to making up a fake boyfriend who goes to a different school with photos of some kid I found on myspace (not my finest moment lol) It worked for a while and afterwards my friends kept telling me that there were some boys who had crushes on me so I decided to give it a shot and “date them.” It wouldn’t last longer than a week with any of them. They would try to hold my hand and kiss me and I was so not into it. I was extremely uncomfortable and would just end it.

Ahh, high school. I went to a school where I didn’t know anybody. It was a fresh start. I made brand new friends, most of which were female, and was lucky enough to find two girls that would become my best friends. One of the friends I made however was a guy and because I was in high school now and hadn’t really had a boyfriend and him being attractive, I went for it. I really liked talking to him and hanging out with him, but any physical interaction was so off-putting to me. And during this relationship I had brought to the forefront the thing that I had been suppressing the most. I didn’t like boys in that way. I liked girls. It was extremely confusing and I slipped into a really dark place that led me into doing some things that I am not proud of. But my friends being as supportive as they are actually helped me figure things out in my head which made me finally comfortable enough to try things out with girls and see how it went. I remember kissing a girl first the first time and it felt like somebody smacked me hard enough to have whiplash. I knew for certain that I was gay. Out of this came many flings and eventually a girlfriend. Only my closest friends knew and I eventually told my younger brother since he would be at my school as a freshman my senior year.

I was making plans on coming out to my parents. I really terrified, mostly to come out to my dad and stepmom because of their upbringing and religious views. I decided I was going to tell my mom first. That is until my dad read my personal notes between my gf and I. He told me I was no longer to have her over and that I couldn’t see her unless it was for something school related. He practically grounded me to the house for a while. I would sneak over to her house to hang out but my dad tracked my phone every time I went out and he called me screaming at me. I got so sick of it and drive to my moms house only to find him there already to talk about it. My mom had my back and my dad was pissed especially since she still let my gf come over to her house. I was so devastated, but mostly because I couldn’t come out when and the way I wanted to. Everything felt like a mess. As soon as I turned 18 that year I moved into my mom’s house permanently because I had to get away from my dad. I didn’t talk to him much for a while. I’m not sure what happened during that time away but he had a complete change of heart and is now totally accepting of it. I got very lucky in that regard.

Ever since my experience, I work very hard with other people who are faced with the challenges of coming out and reach out to be a supportive helping hand. It also amazes me at how much more positive representation we are getting from LGBTQIA+ media and art. I wish I could have had this kind of representation when I was growing up. The incredible work that people put into the LGBTQIA+ community, such as Dominique’s Start the Wave project, are paving the way to a more positive perspective both outside and inside the community itself. My parents, especially my mom, are now huge advocates and take the time to watch and read and research what the community and the representation is all about. I hope that one day everybody can come to this type of understanding, whether it is something they accept or not. Just the understanding itself can be the spark to getting another step closer to love and acceptance.