Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

I don’t even know where exactly to begin as coming out happened over a long period of time for me. From the time I first admitted to myself that I wasn’t straight to the time I knew I was a lesbian, about a year and a half had passed.

The first time I questioned my sexuality, I was about 15 years old. I was in 10th grade, had a mediocre standing in the class hierarchy and had realized long before that I was in some way different compared to the other girls but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was that made me feel different. Until I did. One day a friend of mine came over, at that time Magic Mike was THE movie in our class, and this friend happened to be a big fan of the main actor. For some reason she couldn’t stop talking about the actor and, I guess, wanted to convince me that he was the hottest person on this planet so she pulled out her phone and started showing me pictures of him, abs pictures included haha. Anyways, what I realized in that moment was that I had no emotional reactions to any of the pictures she showed me. I didn’t feel even the slightest bit of attraction while my friend could barely look at a photo without blushing and fangirling over it. That night I had a lot of questions to myself. I didn’t understand why I had no reactions to the pictures – maybe he just wasn’t my type? Maybe I was just a late bloomer and attraction is something that still has to develop in my body? But then again almost every girl in my class had been in a relationship or at least talking about boys during break for years, and me not doing any of that stood out like a sore thumb to me. What is my problem?? So in a quest to convince myself that I was in fact capable of being attracted to boys I started googling actors, musicians etc. just any boy or man I found attractive. Long story short, I didn’t find a single one. I was so frustrated that the next morning I went to my mom and said: „How come, I can’t find a single dude that I find attractive but I could tell you about so many women I find incredible in a heartbeat!?”. You may think that I already knew in that moment that I liked girls, but no. Homosexuality was never discussed in our home. Not because my parents didn’t want me to hear about it but because they never thought about telling me about it. So the only „information” I got on it were prejudices and slurs against, not even queer in general, but only homosexuals, at school. So I knew the word homosexual but I couldn’t define it, all I knew was that it was used as a joke or an insult. But it was nothing I had a personal connection to back then. Because I knew I was straight. „I mean, I’m a girl so I’ll fall in love with a boy eventually because that’s what everyone’s saying”. I just accepted that but now with the whole googling my non-existent crushes that vision didn’t really work out. It was just for a short moment in that confusion that I thought to myself: „What if I don’t like any boys that way but that will never change? What if I just don’t like boys?”. I didn’t know what exactly that would mean but I knew that it didn’t feel like a far stretch. I never had a boy crush, I was never interested in boys and the only thing I really ever wanted to be with boys was best friends. That’s the moment my questioning phase began. I mean at first I went to my mum and told her, tears running down my phase, that „I think I’m a lesbian”. She reacted good. It definitely took her some time to switch from „your future boyfriend” to „your future girlfriend” when talking about my first relationship but once she realized I was being serious, she became super supportive. Still, even though I came out as a lesbian I didn’t know what that meant. And the realization of being different from the other girls in my class hit me like a rock. After coming out I had to take a step back to truly understand who I was. I couldn’t just say I was a lesbian when I had no proof for it. That’s where my questioning phase began and boy, it was a shitshow. I was watching every coming out video on YouTube after school. At that point I was in 11th grade and I was faced with a huge problem: I couldn’t tell any of my friends about this, because the second that information got to school, I feared, I would get bullied because the leading bully in my grade was a homophobe. So at school I acted the straightest I could and the moment I came home I was on YouTube, watching every second of content that would bring me closer to the question who I was attracted to. And I learned a lot. I learned about the LGBT+-community, I saw that queer people aren’t „weird” people (which was what I thought due to the intolerance at school) but just normal people like you and me. At night my brain would feel heavy from all of the new information but in the morning and at school I had no one to talk to about the journey I was going through because I couldn’t talk about it and my mom didn’t really understand what I was saying and feeling. That was very emotionally draining. The more I tried to suppress my feelings the more difficult it became. Plus I wasn’t getting the answer I was looking for: Every YouTuber kept telling me that only I could know my sexuality and that time would tell but I wanted an answer now, I wanted to know who I am and I didn’t understand why no one could tell me. The best I can describe it is that I’d think of myself as an astronaut who just kept floating around in space without a planet in sight. Just infinite nothingness. But I needed something to hold onto because that nothingness was scary and it meant that I didn’t know who I was – I couldn’t accept being „nothing”. It was the moment I stopped stressing myself out about figuring out who I was that things got better, even though it was out of exhaustion. Before, I couldn’t read my emotions clearly because I kept overanalyzing every little emotion I was feeling for people. In my head it would for example be: „is that attraction? That is definitely attraction, oh, you like that person! Yeah, you must be gay!” about feelings such as simply finding a person nice. But it was just my want to have a person I find attractive to be able to answer the question of what my sexuality is. But forcing feelings on myself was very unhealthy. So I stopped. And after some time these feelings came to me naturally and even caught me off guard sometimes which made me finally able to understand them. It took a long time for me to differentiate between finding someone nice, finding someone attractive and loving someone. But once I understood what each feels like, I was able to see that I had been attracted to girls and women from as early as 6th grade. Which is why, after almost one and a half years of trying to find out who I was attracted to I was finally able to say that I’m a lesbian.

Now there’s way more to say about my journey but that’s how it all began. During those one and a half years I also stumbled upon Carmilla and Wynonna Earp which to this day remain my two favorite series and it’s also the reason I even ended up on this page. Seeing positive representation as portrayed in both of these series helped me so much with being ok with my sexuality. Starting my journey I felt so much guilt and being different that I was not comfortable, but I have come a long way now and leaving school and afterwards coming out to everyone in my life that’s important to me and everyone being supportive is the best thing that could’ve happened to me. So today I read about this page and about Dom’s coming out and – oh, how beautiful it is! Everyone has a different journey but there is something so powerful about coming together to share our journeys. And what better person to lead the way on here than Dom. You have helped so many people Dom, including me, to come out and be our true selves and I love that it is partly us that have helped you to come out now, it has come full-circle 🙂 To everyone on here that needs to hear this: you are not alone, you are valid, and I wish you all the love and kindness on your journey that you deserve! – Laura

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

A badass graysexual lesbian

When I was younger, all my attempts at imagining myself marrying a man felt… off. So naturally I assumed that I just wasn’t someone who wanted to get married.
On my facebook account that I started at the age of 9 (dont arrest me) I had mistaken the sexuality question on the profile description as a question about what friends I would like to make. My facebook profile read “I am interested in girls” for everyone I know to see. I was 9 and had no clue what a lesbian was, but I certainly pretended to know when everyone at school started calling me that.

There were countless times where I would think to myself “the next boy who walks through the door will be my crush” just because I was so tired of my sister asking me if I had any crushes on the boys at school. In reality, I had no interest in them at all. In fact, I didn’t have any crushes on anyone and didn’t even feel attracted to people, which was very confusing and made me feel somehow defective.
Both of my sisters had relationships and crushes on guys and talked about how people were attractive but I just didn’t get it.

The first crush I had was in middle school, and it was my best friend. I still had no idea what was going on at that point, and only realized until it was too late and she had moved away. I put a lot of effort into research after that. By high school, I knew for sure that I was gay. Luckily at the school I attended, almost everyone in my friend group was part of the LGBTQ+ community and I even had the opportunity to join the LGBT club there! For the first time I felt seen by the people around me. There was no stress on coming out because we were all growing up with the same pressures and expectations that we hated. ‘Be normal’ ‘Be straight’ ‘Do what you’re told.’

My research also lead me to the asexuality spectrum. An infinite spectrum of the gray area of sexual libido on which I have come to fully recognize I will never find my exact place. However, knowing that my lack of sexual attraction was not some kind if mutation but instead just the way my brain worked was more than I could have ever asked for.
I felt safe to be who I was at school without the fear of being called names or being bullied for it (not to say I wasn’t bullied for other things, of course).

Coming out to my parents was not hard. For a while I felt bad or somehow inadequate because I didn’t have some tragic story, but then I realized that it was a fact that I should be greatful for.
My parents aren’t the only republicans in the world who are accepting of the LGBTQ+ community, but it is not common to positively associate those two things together.

I came out to my parents as graysexual the week after I did extensive research on it. It was a non-issue. My gayness, however, I kept hidden for four years.

Not because I purposefully hid it, though. Not once did I ever tell my parents “I like boys.” I never in my life wanted to ever have to LIE about who I was to anyone. They simply did not ask about my sexuality.
Except one day when I was 18, while I was sitting outside with my mom, she finally had the thought to ask if I liked boys at all.

I was nervous; caught completely off guard with the question I had never expected her to actually ask (despite the fact that she has previously asked about my gender identity and pronouns). Shakily, but nevertheless determined, I told her the truth.

“No, I’m gay.”

She seemed shocked at first, and asked me if I was serious (because sarcasm is a true commodity in my family). After I told her I was serious, she smiled, shook my hand, and said, “Alexa, play ‘I am Woman’.”
I distinctly remember the corner of my lips trembling anxiously as I tried to fight the smile that wanted to break out across my face. I had never been so open with my mother before about anything, and it was an odd feeling to feel accepted by her.
The rest of my family soon followed. My older sister thought I was joking and wasn’t paying attention the first five times I said it, so I had to grab her by the shoulders and say it directly in her face. She quickly hugged me and congratulated me then.
I told my dad, eldest sister, and her boyfriend all at the same time after hearing my sister’s boyfriend sing “I’m coming out”. I thought, why not? So I told them right then, and my sister said she already knew because she had seen all the gay shit I watch on my netflix account, haha.

I got hugs from all of them, and felt proud to be part of such an accepting family.

I did not know then that coming out was not an isolated experience. It is a constant task. A box that needs to be checked every time you make a friend. By the time I got to my third semester of college, I found I was tired. I wanted to see what it was like to not come out to friends for once.

Really long story short, I didn’t come out to a group of friends that I had incorporated myself into and I ended up accidentally going on a date with one of the guys who probably didn’t believe me when I told him that I’m gay. He then outted me to the entire group, and they proceeded to question if I really was a lesbian or if I just didnt want to date that guy.

It made me feel so inadequate. As if being a lesbian is some kind of last resort to get out of a bad date.

I started to feel very insecure about myself and after that incident I stopped hanging around those people, bought a ton of rainbow-themed clothes, and wore my rainbow bracelet obsessively for nearly a year. After that I never purposefully hid my sexuality again. I had seen the other side and the grass was putrid and yellow.

Due to some amazing friends and supportive family, I have become proud of who I am. I don’t hide anymore. I advocate for who I am and who I want to be. I get angry when things are unfair. I get sad when people are being hurt. I feel happy when I see part of who I am on TV more and more often as the years pass.

Other people have it a lot worse than me. Many of those people are my close friends, and it breaks my heart.

What my experiences have shown me is that I am lucky. Every day, I have people who support me and love me for who I am, and I am so damn grateful. I hope more than anything in the world that I am that person for someone else.

35yo, gay and still on the journey

I live in Poland – country where we have „LGBT free zones” in over 100 regions/cities/counties (almost 60 of them enacted „resolutions against LGBT ideology”), where president said „LGBT are not people, it is an ideolgy”, where important people from catholic church said (after Pride Parade) that people have to clean up the streets after rainbow plague, where some politician said that LGBT are not like normal people, where children’s ombudsman said that sex educators give children at schools “gender-changing” pills.
So it is not verry happy place to live.
If I was a teenager nowadays I would know I’m gay somewhere between 12 and 14. But I was a teenager in late ’90s and I didn’t know that being gay even exists. It was 2009 when I saw gay women on TV (or in the Internet to be specific) for the first time in Grey’s Anatomy. At that time I was 23 and in collage. Shortly after that I found The L Word and was like “oooh, this is a real thing”. I was in a long distance relationship with a man and was going to move with him to the big city. I was dreaming Jenny’s story was mine – I’ll move and I’ll meet a girl of my life. Reality was I moved and didn’t met any girl. I had a hard time accepting my sexuality. I still was in a relationship. I had severe depression. I went through different stages – “I have to stay with this guy because it is not normal to be with a woman”,“I can’t be with him but I will be alone for the rest of my life”, “I don’t want to be with him, but I don’t want to be alone eighter”. And finally my minds reached the point where I was thinking “you can’t be with him because it is unfair to him and to you, I don’t know what is waitng for you around the corner but you will be okay”.
We broke up and I moved back to my hometown.
It was 2012, I was 26 and feeling completely lost in life. I moved back with my family and started a new job.
Same year I came out to my best friend. Or I was forced to come out to her. She had some doubts, she tought she is “not safe” with me and I had to answer like a billion questions. But she came around very quickly. A month later I decided to come out to my other best friend and she was wonderful.
Today I’m 35. Unfortunately I still live with my family. And my family is conservative, catholic, huge supporter of polish government and homophobic. My mother uses the F word referring to gay guys (she doesn’t know any bad words for lesbians).
For years I was school psychologist and now I’m a vice principal in public high school. Our school is great. We have a lot of LGBTQ+ students. There are more and more every year because the word that we have very supportive environment is spreading. We always react if they are bullied (but those situation are very very rare). LGBTQ+ students are safe in our school, they can be out, they can hold hands in the hallways, they can go to the prom with their partners, they are stars in school theater and choir, we had outed gay student as the student body president. Unfortunately all those situations are not very common in polish public education system.
I always wanted to be the kind of teacher I was looking for as a teenager – kind, supportive, not being right all the time, respectful, ready to listen and not judge. For obvious reasons a have a soft spot for LGBTQ+ students. Since I’m not out and can’t lead by example I consider my support for them as my contribution to LGBTQ+ community.
I know I still am on a journey. I’m out to my little world but I’m not ready to come out to the big world out there. I don’t think I would ever be. I’m afraid of losing my job (because of the system not the people in my workplace) and roof over my head.
I don’t get support from my family but I’m lucky because there are some amazing people around me. They are my chosen family. I feel safe around them and celebrated by them and they love me. The real me. And I love them back 🙂

P.S. Dear beautiful people please remember if your family doesn’t choose to support you, you can choose your own family.
P.S.2 I was writing my rainbow wave for a few days now reading it over and over again. It is the first time I’ve seen how far I got and honestly I feel weirdly hopeful (it is not the feeling that I’m used to).

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.

Don’t dream your life, live your dream!

I would never have believed that my childhood dream of becoming an actress, would lead me to reconsider my sexual orientation …

While I was looking for inspiration to play a crazy girl with a gun and a lesbian for audition scenes to try to get into a drama program, here Google offered me “Wynonna Earp”. After listening to a few excerpts, I was too intrigued to stop there … Something strange happened in me when I saw Wayhaught for the first time … My heart was racing and i wanted more. This new feeling had something euphoric and strange at the same time …

At the beginning, I rented the season one only for my auditions, always looking for inspiration to embody a romantic feeling that I have never felt. Then, from episode 2 to episode 9, while I realized more and more that I was not indifferent to Wayhaught, the famous scene of the first kiss made me realize that what was possible for Waverly was possible for me too … no matter what my family thought I was by the way I be or act …

It happened in January this year and I didn’t always go out, because I don’t think I should since we don’t have to define ourselves publicly by our sexual orientation … Maybe it is motivated by the fear of revealing myself … I am already disabled so what kind of strange person and actress I would be in the eyes of people if in addition to being a “Tomboy” physically disabled, I was queer …

If the path to full acceptance of myself is still under construction, I tell myself that publishing this rainbow wave is a good start!

Now that I have said everything to you, I return to look at Wynonna and Wayhaught … only as inspiration for my auditions.

Looking forward to being on your screen as a proud disabled actress and queer.

Queer

I knew I was attracted to people other than boys when I was around 7/8 years old. It was difficult to understand, but thankfully I have supportive family/friends who accept me for who I am. I first told my older sister and she explained to me that it was ok to love who I wanted to. I slowly came out to my parents and although they worried about the struggles I’d face later on in life, they only want me to be happy. I’ve slowly come out to friends new and old and have been met mostly with open arms. Coming out never really stops, but for me, the fear of rejection has subsided. Now, being 18, I’ve developed feelings for many a person, not limited to any gender. I’m proud to be who I am and wouldn’t change it for the world.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

JustbeHappy040116

I don’t know how to start but I must say that I’ve had a lot of boyfriends back then. I like boys, I like the way they court me, gives me flowers, chocolates, and stuff like every guys that I’ve dated… You know, they’re really in love with me, and they care about me.
This is not me being conceited, but this is me telling the truth. I love dating boys, yet I feel like I’m loathing about them–fed up and eating the same food every single day. I always think that there’s something wrong with me for they always give what I deserve, what I want, and what I need, but I’m always stuck of thinking that if I get attached, they’re just gonna leave me after all. Well, it’s for me to find outttttt, though I used to be a man a hater…
When I was young, I told myself that I’m just gonna play with boys and their shit. Why? Coz’ my childhood is kinda rough. I remember, I didn’t get the chance to be with my parents that much. My mom got pregnant with a very young age, and she needs to work far from us, while my dad is a drunken master. Lol! Like he always come home drunk as fuck with another woman. Hahaha! Things didn’t work out for them, so I guess, you know where I’m coming from? Jeez! This is so emotional. Hahaha!
Going back to dating boys, I always think that they’re all the same, like if they get what they want they’ll left you hanging. I was wrong, coz’ actually good guys exist, and I was very lucky to have them but, yah know something is quite missing. I really felt their love for me sadly, I don’t have that much love to offer them, that’s why I tend to date a lot of boys, like collecting toys. It’s like a routine man! My life is in black and white, and I feel so sorry from the bottom of my heart. I know there’s something wrong with me, for I think I am seeking the love that I really want and I really need, maybe they are not for me, or I’m not just into guys? I’m just in denial? I don’t fucking know what to do!
What is the feeling of being in love?
What is the feeling of being in love with the person who loves you back?
FUCK!
I’m gonna tell you this, IT’S FUCKING AMAZING!!!
Here it goes…
I met this girl in 2016, we’re schoolmates. One time she needs to survey for a subject and that’s the time we met. I saw her staring at me for a plenty of times, it’s like every time I check on her she’s there, literally staring at me as if she’s drooling. Lol! After several days, she added me on Facebook and told myself, I remember this girl… So, I accepted her request and boommm! We can’t stop exchanging messages, sending voice clips, pictures like I never felt this excitement and butterflies in my tummy before.
It felt so different, however it feels really really good. Legit man! Knowing that we’re just talking. At first I’m scared coz’ it feels new to me, everything is new to me– you know I’m so confused for the reason that we live in a world where we should be what people wants us to be. We should choose and fit in what we think is right and we tend to deprive and disregard happiness. In short, we’re scared of being judged– I feel like I’m in a war and I got no bullet and gun to survive. I’m also afraid of what my family, friends, and people would think if I told them about it. Good thing I’m a very spontaneous person and I don’t care what people will say, again (I’m scared and afraid but I know this will be worth it) so I risked, (FUCK JUDGEMENTS). People are shocked of me dating a girl but, I told myself I’ll just get used to it.
People are judging me and they keep on telling me whom I should date, and that this kind of relationship is bad, but you know what? I always show them kindness. These people didn’t know that this girl changed me on how I prospect life, and made me realize a lot of things. She helped me with everything, she’s been there supporting me through my ups and downs when no one else would. She’s been very patient and persistent with me because I am a messy and impulsive person. She loved me so much. She loved me at my worst, and best, and embraced me for who I really am. I must be very blessed to have someone like her in my life, and as time goes by my feelings are getting deeper and deeper. I have never been this comfortable having her around. I’m enjoying her company, never loathe, she makes me laugh, smile, she keeps me warmth. Every day is a different day when I’m with her, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love her. I love her so much.
Our love story is not perfect, in fact she knows that I’m scared, but she guided me in every way. We fought and faced a lot of judgments and problems, but we managed to conquer all of it by just supporting and being there for each other. All those black and white has changed with a lot of colors– colorful, brilliant, and glowing I must say. I never thought that she would make a huge impact in my life and will make me become the better version of myself.
I didn’t regret a thing for choosing her and being with her.
I never thought that she would make a huge impact in my life and will make me become the better version of myself.
We share a love that no one will ever understand, except if you know that happiness is what matters in life then it’s the right thing to do. This is so cheezyy!
I’ve also contemplated that embracing difference and accepting who you really are is such a powerful and revolutionary thing, and you won’t need anyone’s approval, acceptance, and judgments in your life—thus, these would just drag you down. Just always remember to be who you are and show kindness even if they don’t.
Time flies so fast and I’m living the best years of my life, and I’m happy to say that we’re celebrating our fourth anniversary on April 1, 2020 and I wanna thank her and God for everything. Peace y’all.

Lesbian – my long journey to truth and love

I knew I was gay before I knew what gay was. I remember watching Hocus Pocus as a child and being in love with Alison. I knew how I felt, but remember thinking “that’s not right though because girls like boys.”

When I was 11 and started high school I had 2 friends who soon stopped talking to me because I wouldn’t say which boy in our class I liked, I could have said which girl I liked but I knew that “wasn’t a thing” having still never heard the word gay and with no education on the subject or representation on TV or in films.

I actually can’t remember the moment I found out about different sexualities but I know at some point my understanding went from “girls like boys” to “okay girls can like girls but it’s wrong/frowned upon.” Whatever my understanding I knew that I liked girls, and girls only, but I also knew that I would never tell anyone.

I am a people pleaser, I didn’t want to stand out or ever be controversial in anyway. In fact that’s something I still say to people when they say that being gay is “my choice” – if they knew me at all they would know I would never choose to be something anyone deemed as unacceptable.

I really tried hard to like boys, I could write a book on the disastrous dates I went on when people tried to set me up. I never had a 2nd date with any of them, I’d get home and cry and make excuses as to why they weren’t the right fit. I just thought that was my life, I’d just be on my own, it was easier than coming out and not knowing how the people I love would react.

I wrestled with these demons and never told a soul I was gay until I was 26 years old.

And then everything changed, a new girl started at work and as soon as I met her I was in love, we had the same interests, the same values, we soon became best friends.

We had been friends for around a year and a half when she came upto me as she was leaving work and said “text me when you finish, I need to tell you something.” I didn’t think anything of it, so when I finished I was text her “hey! what did you want to tell me?” She replied with something cryptic like “can you think of anything it might be?” for a brief second the thought flashed in my head “Oh my gosh she likes me” but I quickly dismissed it. Emma was a beautiful 19 year old dancer who everyone was after, I was a 26 year old spectacle wearing lump. So I replied and said no I didn’t know what she wanted to tell me.

Then came the text.

She liked me! It was a long text and I still know it by heart but the gist of it was that she liked me, and she knows I probably don’t think of her that way but she just had to tell me because sometimes she got the feeling we were on the same wavelength.

Well, I didn’t reply for a good few hours, which I still feel bad for. I just led there in bed thinking okay this could go 2 ways, I could reply and say no sorry I don’t feel the same and carry on living this lie without the disruption coming out would cause, or, I could say yes actually, I feel exactly the same and be true to myself for the first time in my life.

Thankfully I went with the second option, the hardest part was coming out to my family and my friends. My sisters were both amazing, my mum and dad took a bit of getting used to it but are now the biggest advocates. I lost a few friends but those closest to me were just so proud of me. Not a day goes by when I don’t appreciate how blessed I am to be surrounded by such an amazing group of people.

So that text from Emma was back in 2014, the 11th of July to be precise, from that day forward we spent every moment together. We lived between our parents houses until we could afford to rent a flat of our own. Then in 2018 we bought our first house together, and now we have 2 beautiful dogs and will be celebrating our first wedding anniversary next month.

If I could tell 26 year old me that in just a few years your girlfriend will be proposing to you in front of your whole family and everyone will be cheering, I don’t think I’d believe myself.

Ours is my favourite love story, I know not everyone is as lucky as me, but it’s important to give hope to anyone who is in the same position I was – it gets better, and being true to yourself is never the wrong choice.

People ask me if I wish I’d come out sooner, the truth is that no, I don’t wish that. I wouldn’t change a thing in my story and risk it being any different than it is now