Community Rainbow Waves

I am a Gender-Fluid Queer

My story is one that never ends, its an endless cyclone of fear and misery, a tale is old as time. Living in a religious Hispanic household restricted me from, well.. being anyone i wanted to be. Being the youngest of seven siblings i didn’t have much choice in the matter when it came to expressing my true self, at an early age i knew i was different. Well so did my favorite Aunt, she was more of a mother to me then my actual one, she looked after me when my parents were away for years working in the city. But my first coming out story began in the summer of ’04, when something inside me awakened. I couldn’t turn to my family with it in fear of instant rejection or judgement or even isolating me from the world, so to practice I told a lie to my best friend at the time to see her reaction to the news, i said ” i was playing with the girl next door and some how we ended up kissing, I didn’t know how I felt about it but I might try it again, what do you think?” her response was priceless, she asked if I was gay now, I said no of course not I’ve had boyfriends in the past, she went on to say its ok if you are, just live your life ill support you and what every you decide. Now mind you we were like 9 years old, they stuck to me. from then on, I became a little more confident and bolder in my social surrounding such as school and eventually work. until one day my aunt asked me, “Kay do you like girls?” I was utterly shocked, for I thought no member in my family suspected it, I turned red with embarrassment first rejecting the question, but I looked at my Aunts face which showed nothing but kindness and I finally had that courage and said it out loud YES! An honest to goodness Wave of relief washed over me I felt flushed, but she said shes always known but waited for me to come to her but my fear was too deep she knew I never would. We sat up that whole night talking about every minut detail, she helped me feel accepted, loved and supported. I became a little bolder a few days later my older sister called me to ask if I was Gay I said I was a lesbian yes, but being called gay or lesbian never sat right with me I mean I like girls so being called lesbian insinuated I was only female, I knew I was born a girl but I also liked when strangers would mistake me for a boy, so i sot the advice and consul of others like me to put a name to who I was as a person, coming across label as “Gender-Fluid Queer” it described me to the “T” so thats how i described myself to my brothers and friends and yea stranger to if asked. Now the dark part of all this, my dearest loving Aunt passed, and my father left us, I was left with the one person I was most terrified of. My religious headstrong Mother, I alone watch over her none of my siblings want nothing to do with her I am all she has, til this day she still does not know or is in denial. She is now a fragile woman, so in fear of hurting her I say nothing, cowardly I know, I’ve tried many times over they years to tell her but just when I finally think I have the nerve to fess up , I chicken out. Its a fear that paralyzes me from having a social life anymore, going out on dates or meeting anyone. I’ve lived with this weight on my chest for 20 years, so to take care of me and separate myself from her negativity I have taken up therapy to cope with this weight. Hopefully in due time I can work on my true authentic self and have the courage to tell her as I’ve done many times over!

Hopefully you can find a silver lining in my story and if you have a similar story just know your not alone!
Thank you for reading
Much Love!

I don’t put labels on myself.

Labels make me feel as if you’re putting me into a box to which is yours to stereotype or criticize. I like being free. Being me.

Eleven. That’s when I started to question my sexuality. I wasn’t attracted to boys yet but I found girls so intriguing. I was on a softball team with beautiful girls which made this even worse. I met a girl online that I so hopelessly fell for. I didn’t know that at the time. When I did tell her she ghosted me. Ouch. I decided that it wasn’t real feelings so I pushed it down. Twelve. I found my best friend most attractive than my boyfriend. I didn’t think anything of it. I never thought I was bi or gay. Well I did. I took those “Am I gay” quizzes and chose the obviously straight answers. I was lost. It was really hard to deal with this and hormones. I cried a lot, screamed, pushed the closest people away. I was scared of what they would think of me. A little bit later the girl I was more attracted to than my now ex boyfriend said she thinks she’s bi. I have never been more relived. She reveled that she liked me just as much as I liked her. And three years later and I still call her mine. It was a very long journey to get here. I used to not hold her hand afraid of the looks or whispers. I would cry at night because of that. but now i want to live my life. I want her to be happy and I want to be happy. I put others people’s opinions behind me. Not everyone is going to support it. Her mother. Her mother outed me to my family. I live with my grandmother because my mother died when I was born. My grandma didn’t comprehend when she outed me and still didn’t until the third time her mother decided to out me. My grandma asked me if I liked girls because my mother died. Not the reason why. I hate being different but I am. There is no one I was destined to be other than myself. I am me. I like girls. I know that for sure. I like anyone. That’s me. The messy, crazy, sad, and happy, me.

This is me

I love being happy

I’m going to be with who ever makes me happy

#OutIsTheNewIn

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

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

I am a bisexual female.

I think I knew in 7th grade. There was a girl named Sarah that I thought was pretty but I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t fully explain. Looking back now I definitely liked her and wanted to be with her. There have been plenty of times since then where I’ve questioned whether I was a lesbian or not. I still struggle with that at times, especially because I think, maybe even more-so than any other identification, bisexual is the most often considered a “phase” so it’s been extremely hard ein okay living in that so-called “phase” space. I am truly and completely attracted to both women and men, but I wouldn’t identify as pansexual either. I am 100% about people being comfortable in their own skin, I just don’t find myself romantically drawn to transgender people. Coming out to my friends was easy because I surround myself with loving and accepting people. But my parents to this day still do not know.

Painfully Beautiful

I went into fifth grade with the greatest belief that everything would be amazing. I was hoping to make many new friends and become someone that was independent for the first time. I was hoping for so many things, and got none of them. Fifth grade was the worst year of my life. It was a year that pushed me to the edge of everything and left me belittled and scared for what was going to come next.
The truth is that people often believe that fifth graders don’t have a good idea about who they are, what they like, or who they like. However, I was different. I can confidently say that fifth grade was the year that I realized that I was a bit unusual. I looked at boys with a fond eye, which is what I believed was normal, so when I first looked at a girl with that same eye, I became apprehensive. I wasn’t sure why I felt the same way and I didn’t know that what I was about to do would spark something horrible.
I walked up to this girl that I saw differently and told her, point blank, that I had feelings for her. I even remember writing her a poem and giving it to her as she stood outside of her locker. Nothing that I had done felt out of the ordinary, but as soon as someone noticed my gesture, all hell broke loose. The word got around very quickly that I was a lesbian. My classmates talked about me and laughed. They wouldn’t let me sit by them at lunch or be in their group for a project. At recess I walked alone, anxiously staring at a group as they continued to talk about me. I had never felt so isolated and alone, most of all, I had never felt so depressed. I, at the age of ten, considered taking my life. The pain that I felt kept building up and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that kept me alive was my family.
Now, my family didn’t actually know that any of this was going on. Every day, I would leave my house with a smile on my face and come home with that same exact smile. My parents and two sisters had no knowledge of anything that was going on at school. They didn’t know that I would go into my room and contemplate why I should continue fighting and not just give up. However, if there is anything worse than what the kids were saying about me, making my parents cry would be cause the biggest pain in my heart. I could never hurt myself in a way that would leave them asking why I did something or cause them to wonder if they were the reason. Despite all of the pain that I felt throughout fifth grade, I would never leave this world for the fear that my parents would be left alone in it.
Denial was the only way that I made it out of fifth grade. I denied all of the events that had occurred and stepped right back into the figurative closet that has been created for people like me. Now, as a junior in college, I am more open with people about my sexuality. I have the biggest and best support system around me and could not be more thankful. I look at life through a new lens, filled with hope for anyone like me. I look back at fifth grade and hate it in so many regards, however, I also look at it and believe that who I am today would not be a possibility without those events. I believe that everyone deserves to be happy and I will never disregard someone for a belief or aspect of their life. I have also come to accept who I am as a person and I am no longer scared. I was so close to the edge with nobody near. Now, if I ever become close to that edge again, I know I will have multiple people behind me ready to help.

Finally happy being me

For years i tried to hide it as i was attracted to both men and women, i came out as lesbian at 17 as thats what i guess i thought i was as no talk or bi sexual or queer, i then wasnt happy so started dated guys, then Got very confused for years , im now finally ok with just being sarah at the age of 33 and loving Just humans, im still getting called a lesbian but hey ho.

I’m a lesbian, not a unicorn

I always knew I was different but I didn’t know quite what it was. I remember my Mum asking me if I had ever had feelings for my (girl) friends – at the time I was too young to understand but I didn’t anyway, not to my friends…

Time went by and I grew attached to older female icons but always hid behind the trend at the time whether it was #teamJacob from twilight or some boyband. I followed the norm because like Dom, I was petrified to be different and stand out.

I was 14 when I admitted to myself that I like girls too but I didn’t tell anyone. I kept that burden with me until I went to college.

My Dad picked me up from college one day and it was about a 20 minute drive so I knew I had time. I had decided I was going to tell him. Me and my Dad had always had this unbreakable bond, it probably helped I was a little tomboy too but also had the dancer side to me, anyway, I felt safe to tell him.

I can’t describe the anxiety I had in that car. I’d take a breath ready to say something.. ANYTHING. and nothing would come out…

Finally, I started by asking him not to be disappointed in me – his answer was ‘it’s okay, just tell me.’ I simply responded with ‘What would you say if I told you I didn’t just like boys…?’ He simply replied with, ‘I wouldnt say anything.’ I thought he didn’t understand. I tried again by saying I liked girls. He turned to me and smiled and said “Amy, I know. Whoever you love is fine, it will never change my love for you, you are still my daughter no matter who your partner is.”

The relief was unreal… that weight I had carried round for so long just lifted and gone… I couldn’t believe I was so scared before!! The tears streamed down my face and my Dad stopped the car and held me so tightly and asked why I was crying. All I could say back was ‘relief’.

I knew after telling my Dad I could tell the rest of my family. I texted (yes texted) my Mum because I was quite worried of her reaction and she couldn’t have been more accepting!

My sister obviously made a joke but in a kind hearted way. I knew she was always going to love me no matter what.

And the rest is history, including the boy part .

I am now a 23 year old British gay gal who is loving life as much as possible.

I have found so much comfort in following Dom and her journey and everything to do with Wynonna Earp and Wayhaught. So thank you for that!

Lots of Love,
Amy x

Aly

On some level, I always knew I was different. I knew that I wasn’t as “boy crazy” as all my friends growing up. Due to various outside forces at play, including (but not limited to) family, peers, church, and small town disdain of queer identities, I never allowed myself to explore the possibility that I was a lesbian.

That all changed when I graduated high school and moved 2 hours away to college. Geographically, I was still in close proximity to my family; socially, however, I was a world away from the “hick town” of my upbringing. While in college, I joined both a sorority AND the rugby club team. I met queer women of many identities and walks of life in both organizations.

Once I realized that the sometimes all-too-typical media portrayal of “butch” lesbians were not the only way to be queer, all the mental puzzle pieces clicked into place. (I feel as though I should interject here and sing the praises of butch lesbians for the wonderful, beautiful beings that they are. That’s just not an identity I have ever associated with myself, therefore it took me some time to understand that one could be a lesbian without also being perceived as masculine.)

Once I came out to myself (thanks in no small part to the Spashley and Otalia ships, as well as the movies Blue Crush and Bring It On) and started dating my first girlfriend, there was really no looking back. I finally understood the butterflies my friends talked about when referencing their first kisses with their respective boyfriends. It was with SO MUCH relieve that I realized I was neither crazy nor broken….just gay!

I still live just outside of my old college town, working as a nurse. My beautiful wife, who had her own coming-out struggles involving her very Mexican/Catholic family, is working as a local high school teacher. Every day that I wake up and get to live life alongside the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, I thank my lucky stars that I found the courage to accept and live my truth.

I’m Libby and i have not found a label that i think perfectly fits me

i came out in October of 2017 to my parents.
i told my brother and sister before anyone else in august that year, then a few of my closest friends.
i wasn’t too sure of what label to come out with so when i spoke to my mum i said i was bisexual a thought it would be easier to come out with a known label.

it is now September of 2020, almost 3 years later and i am in a relationship with my amazing girlfriend, Rachael, who wasn’t out to anyone, infact when we met she didn’t even know she liked girls.
However, we’ve been together about a year and 8 months.
we have gone through our ups and downs by we are all round happy and in love.

i was personally helped a lot by Wynonna Earp and the representation on the show,
obviously the relationship between Waverly and Nicole and the way it began and grew amazingly, helped me
along with watching all the cast at conventions and the wayhaught panels.

I personally felt free after i came out and started to be true to who i was and i couldn’t have asked for a better more supporting family.
i was so lucky to have been brought up in this amazing accepting environment and i will always be immensely greatful to my family and friends.

i am unsure what my label is

bisexual?
queer?

i don’t know, but i do know i will be accepted and loved either way

as Dominique Provost- Chalkley put it “i guess i’m in love with love”

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.