Community Rainbow Waves

ANONYMOUS

Ever since I started high school right through near to the end I never came to terms that I liked girls I tried to push it away and not think about it because I was scared of what others thought about me. In this society many people don’t agree with LGBT+Q and I’ve seen how people are some people are loving and accepting but some aren’t which we don’t have the power to change their minds everyone has the own opinions. But back to coming out I always liked this girl and her smile was just wow I was speechless. I didn’t want people knowing about me being bisexual so because these feeling became so strong for her I distanced my self from her so I’d stop loving her but because I did that they became even more powerful all I ever thought about was her. I came out not long ago and all my family and friends are accepting well the ones I told. But since coming I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been less anxiety and the girl I always had a crush on isn’t just my best friend but my girlfriend now and I’m proud to call her that , I’m proud to walk down the street and hold her hand , kiss and hug her and gives her compliments without caring what others think. This is me and I’m proud of it my confidence was never the best but now it is thanks to thinking more positive and for people being accepting and showing me it’s ok because it is ok to be you.

Queer

I think I’ve always known I was part different, but growing up in a very small town I did not grow up with anyone in the queer community around me, or at least they were not open.

When I was in grade 8, my mom moved us to the next town over which was slightly bigger. There I fell in with a bunch of misfits, some of which were exploring their sexualities.
At the time, I was still dating guys, although I was tossing them aside before anything could become real.

In grade nine, I finally worked up the courage to tell one of my then bisexual friends that I thought I might also be bisexual. She then went on to dismiss me and said, and I quote “you’re our straight friend”. As you might have guessed this pushed me even further back into the closet, when I stayed until after I graduated.

It wasn’t until I moved across the province to the big city of Vancouver for school, that I actually allowed myself to start to come out to my new school mates. There I met this older Brazilian girl, who was my first relationship with a girl….and wow, eye opener.

Since then I have been dating women, identifying as queer as gay/lesbian/bi/pan feel too restrictive for me. I am pretty open with my friends that I have made since college and new people I have met, I am still not out to my family and a lot of my childhood friends back home.

I’m pretty sure my parents know, I mean I basically dressed and acted like a boy from the ages of 5-11. But I became rather famine during high school. One moment I feel ready to tell them and think they will be fine, and the next I remember and old comment they made or something they said recently that makes me hold back.

I’m 26, and I’m still a bit of a hot mess when it comes to relationships. But working on it.

I don’t identify, I’m just me.

I’ve always known I was part of the community, I’ve always thought other girls were pretty and that eventually I’d fall for one and that’d be it. What was shocking to me was that it wasn’t common to feel this way. At a very young age I’d thought, “But girls are so pretty! How can you not like girls?” I never felt a need to come out, I came home one day and said “Mom, I have a girlfriend!” I could tell she was surprised but she was calm and hugged me and told me how proud of me she was. Our community can be such an accepting place, that’s one of my favourite things about it. I’m still very young, I don’t exactly have very many years on me, but I’ve always known who I am and what I want.

It’s leviOsa not leviosA

I always had doubts about my sexuality and that terrified me, I finally confirmed it at 15, in my class there was a beautiful girl who literally captivated me, months passed in which I kept everything new in my being, until one day I had an attack of courage and I confessed, strangely she felt the same that day was the best and after exits we started a relationship, almost 3 months later my mom that blew up the bomb, they made me go to psychologists several times she could not accept having a daughter like that (Obviously my relationship ended my mom) I was so obsessed that I watched all my female friends, today 4 years have passed although she no longer controls me as before, she thinks it was a stage and that I already passed it, in truth you are an inspiration to I hope one day to have the courage to open my heart to my family and tell them that it was not a stage that is me …….. (sorry but I had to translate it maybe not very good .. atte: an admirer of Lat America)

Christine

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

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

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It. Was. Terrifying.

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

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

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

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

Fluid/gay/lesbian

I’ve always had a strong physical connection with other human beings. Intimate energy draws me to people, especially in a romantic sense. Because of this, I grew up in many relationships with different boys. It wasn’t until after 10 months with my last boyfriend at 15 years old (I’m now 21) when I realised that something wasn’t quite right. I had never truly been intimate with any of my partners, and at this point I hadn’t yet done ‘the deed’ with him. The moment came and it didn’t feel special, I didn’t feel ‘in love’ is what I realised. So we didn’t do it, and I made the decision to end the relationship with him the week after. As cruel as it may seem, I was being more cruel to myself by keeping it going after the realisation.
5 months had passed and YouTube became my best friend. I discovered Ally Hills and Stevie Boebi, Shannon Beveridge and Cammie Scott, I watched them for months in pure denial that I was attracted to women. This was during Summer, when I wasn’t at school – most of my time was spent watching these YouTubers and doing ‘Am I gay?’ tests because I very extremely confused and simply didn’t want to admit the truth. I had a lot of internalised homophobia.
By the end of Summer, I had become so paranoid and depressed by internalising it, I had to tell someone. First, it was my best friend at the time. Then she told her mum, who was supportive of me. That same day I told my sister (who had been jokingly calling me a lesbian my whole life) and she gave me the courage to tell my mum. We weren’t a family who spoke about our emotions much, so me saying this to their faces was completely out of the picture. My sister told my mum for me, then my mum told my dad. It seems strange however, I’m not one to open up easily and for me, this was the best option. My mum smiled and welcomed me with open arms, I cried at the relief of her acceptance. I never spoke to my dad about it, but I knew he’d be okay with it.
It took a few months for my parents to stop mentioning boyfriends and realise it wasn’t a phase – I’m lucky that now I can openly talk to them about my relationships with girls and the future I have with my family, adopting or surrogacy in regards to my future children.
As I lived in a more conservative town, I came out to a heteronormative society. Because of this, it was hard to explain the decisions I made as a gay woman – explaining why I was a-romantic towards men however still very much gay. I was repeatedly told I was bisexual, which I knew wasn’t right and caused many arguments with my friends. After leaving my hometown to embark of university life, I was much more accepted and as I discovered more of my own confidence and identity, I realised that I am much more fluid in my choice of partners whilst still mainly preferring women. This was whilst also becoming more educated in gender and sexuality as I realised that I was also interested in non-binary people.
So, I am a fluid, gay woman. I am a proud fluid, gay woman. No one can tell me otherwise and I now don’t ever feel the need to explain myself. I know who I am, and that’s all that matters. If you know who you are, then nothing else matters. If you don’t know who you are, then that’s okay. You need to experience a journey before you get to your destination. Your destination may change, it may stay the same, but what matters is that your are happy and that you allow yourself to explore and enjoy the journey you face. – Scarlett (England, UK)

Lesbian

I am now 23 but my coming out process started when I was 13, and to be perfectly honest, it will probably never stop. In today’s society I am constantly having to ‘come out’ to new people as no one ever assumes you are gay if you don’t look a certain / stereotypical way. I always knew I liked girls since I was in primary school at the young age of 6 before I even knew it had a label. I suppressed this as there was not any same sex representations to normalise these feelings I had. But at 13 I fell in love with a girl and started my relationships with girls from this age, forcing me to identify as bisexual only to this girl. However, once that relationship ended I forced myself back to being ‘straight’ in my own mind, maybe because all of the hiding made me feel different and therefore ashamed. But when I was 15 I met another girl and convinced myself it was only her I liked and no other girls and that I was still ‘straight’. But at 16 I decided to come out as bisexual to my football team as this was my safe place since a lot of the team identified as bisexual / lesbian also. It was only when I turned 17 that I came out to my very religious friends and non-religious family who all embraced me as well as I could have expected. There was awkwardness around my first relationship and I hated this, and I refused to withhold my affections with my girlfriend for my family’s sake when I knew they wouldn’t have felt this way if she were a boy. They soon came around however and are now very accepting. I only came out as bisexual because I wanted to feel more ‘normal’ and admitting I was a lesbian made me more different than I was comfortable with. However, just before I turned 18 I decided that I needed to fully accept who I was, and not seek acceptance or validation from anyone. This was the best thing I ever did, and I’m now so happy with who I am and I am proud of it.

Bisexual

I always knew early on that I was different. I knew that I liked people and not gender. And that I Katie McGrath for more than her acting. But growing up I couldn’t always accept that, I grew up in a Christian society and though they weren’t anti-gay it still seemed scary. Then my brother came out as gay and I watched my mother struggle for years with her faith and love for him. And I didn’t want to be a burden, I was already extremely bullied for a lot of things and didn’t want to add one more to the list. It wasn’t until freshman year that I openly said the words “I’m bi” and that was only to my friends. It was nice to have a place where I could be me and open and happy, but then I would go home and where the “straight mask” again and that grew so tiresome. Then I moved away from that school to go live in the south which terrified me because of the rumors. My brother new that I was Bi and helped me be not so scared. But my next school wasn’t so bad. I found people like me who were out and pround and I even came out to a couple family members. I just became a senior in higb school and I haven’t told my mother yet, but I’m not scared to do it anymore. I just want my moment to be mind. And when it is I will be fearless!

Bisexual

People label being anything but straight as abnormal. That is the environment i grew up in and continue to live in . I was just as attracted to women as i was to men. I thought that was the norm and was nothing out of the ordinary. So in a way there was no moment of realization as I always knew. I came out when i was twelve but my mum dismissed it due to us being a Pakistani Muslim household not to mention my father being in the military which just made things worse. After that my mum and I never had talked about my sexuality. It was simply unacceptable to her and the rest of my family. I am 17 now gonna turn 18 this year and i have given up on coming out to them so I’ve decided that only my friends and some family members will know which I’m fine with to be honest. I am hella proud to be a Pakistani , I am hella proud to be a Canadian and I’m hella proud to be bisexual. That I am certain will never change.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.