Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Duda G.

I think I knew that I was a part of the LGBT2QIA+ community when I got overexcited after discovering that a character on one of my favorite TV Shows was bisexual. When I realized that I was a lesbian, after weeks trying to accept that myself, I instantly told my mom, who got a hard time accepting it. But now she completely supports me and I couldn’t be more grateful.
On school, I basically came out to one person at a time ’till all of the class knew. Everyone that I told my sexuality to was happy for me and that gave me enough courage to tell my dad and then my stepmom. I still haven’t come out to my grandparents and I’m not sure if I plan on it.
But if there’s something that I’m actually sure is that talking to other Earpers helped a lot. Simply sharing experiences and hearing their stories was something that brightened up my darkest days and helped me get through my internalized homophobia. I wouldn’t have been able to survive without my friends that offered me all of the support that I needed.

Power in knowledge

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

Not straight

I’m Katelyn, I’m 14 and I live in small town Louisiana. In 2016, I was 11. This show that my great aunt told me to watch was called supergirl. And supergirl was the first show I had ever seen, as a 4th grader, that had a gay character. Alex Danvers was always my favorite even before she came out. I didn’t want to tell anyone but when she came out I liked her a lot more, and I didn’t know why. At that time I still was convinced I liked boys. I had a “boyfriend” if you can even call it that in the fourth grade. I was not fully aware of lgbtq+ people. My parents never hid it from me but didn’t talk about it directly. My dad’s best friend is a lesbian and had girlfriends and all but I didn’t fully understand what that meant. Until I watched supergirl and I watched as Alex struggled with her feelings and eventually came to terms with it. I continued to watch supergirl religiously until like sixth grade. At this point i had different boyfriend. The only reason I have ever had boyfriends is bc everyone around me began having crushes and boyfriends. I never really liked the boys i dated more than a friend. One of which was my best friend. He said he liked me and asked me out. I felt so nervous and pressured that he would become upset if I said no so I said yes. It was awkward holding his hand or sitting close to him. And when people asked if we were dating I get uncomfortable answering. One day in social studies, my teacher moves me to a table with three other girls all of which were very friendly and funny. We would talk all the time during class and the teacher didn’t care. The girls who sat next to me was my favorite. We became really close in class, but would not talk outside of class because w each had our own friend group. In class one day we cheated together on a test and we sat extra close and we giggled the whole time. She grabbed my hand and I get a rush of nerves I strike inside of me. All of a sudden I had butterflies in my stomachs. I assumed it was because I really wanted her as a friend and we were just becoming really close. So every day we would sit really close and hep each other with work and laugh and y’all and the butterflies were always there. And every once and a while she would touch my arm and I get like I was melting. One day in line for class she made a gay joke at me and I didn’t laugh or smile. I still had never realized that I was attracted to her. She asked “hey, what’s the matter? Wait are you gay?” She whispered respectively in my ear. I stood silent for a while, pondering on what she had said. “I think so.” I said. I didn’t know why I had said it I had never even thought it before she asked. She put an arm around me and said “that’s chill, I don’t really care man sorry for joking about it.” And that was that, I had just come out to someone. And honestly I was ok with it. I had never felt any internalized homophobia or anything like that I never felt ashamed either. One day she asked me if I was okay with telling people. I didn’t see an issue so I said ya tell whoever you want I don’t care, just don’t tell my twin sister (only cause she would tel my family and I wasn’t ready for that. They are accepting and all I just wasn’t prepared at the moment and I’m still not ready). So she began telling her friends who would then come up to me and ask if it was true and I would nod. I went to a private catholic school and surprisingly never faced homophobia. They were all really interested seeing as how most of them had never known or met a gay person before. I became kind of popular. Until people wanted to know how I figured it out, like who I had a crush on. I didn’t want to say it was my best friend so I made up and answer. I chose the prettiest, sweetest girl in my grade. We never talked much but when we did she was very kind and quiet. Everyone believed me. I said don’t gel the girl because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. After a couple of months of telling people I liked this random girl, I began to really notice how pretty and nice she was. My best friend was moved away from me in class and we began to talk less because of it. I began to have feelings for the girl I pretended to like. That girls best friend who was known as a blabber mouth, had been really nice to me and wanted or know who I liked. I told her not to tell the girl and that was the first thing she did. The girl I lied about, and was beginning to have feelings for stopped talking to me. She wasn’t mean about it she just felt uncomfortable which I understand. But it hurt. She wouldn’t even look at me when I spoke in class and avoided me in the lunch line. In seventh grade I eventually realized I was in love with her. I became really really attached to her and I get like crying every time she glanced at me and quickly turned away. Near the end of seventh grade she began to talk to me more and she became more adjusted to my reality. On the one year anniversary of coming out she was the only person, including myself, who remembered and she wished me happy one year. I cried that day. I then realized something devastating, I was going to a different school then the rest of my grade was the following year. They were going to our schools sister school and I was going to a public school. The last day of school I cried so hard. I thought about her everyday of my life until I started my new school. I found out one of my friends was hi and we bonded over that. I get more comfortable in my feelings and sexuality and I eventually graduated from my feelings for that girl. I was free from the burden of obsession I had locked myself into because of the freshness of my emotions. I feel I now, at 14, have a clearer and healthier relationship with my sexuality and I am ok. I’m good and I’m as happy as I can be. I am gay, and I’m ok with that. Girls are pretty, what can I say.

First Clue… Crush on the Flying Nun

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.

Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.

First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.

Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.

Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.

Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.

Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.

Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!

Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…

Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.

Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”

Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”

There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.

I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.

Internalizing my battles

Usually a story starts at the beginning. When everyone is equally as confused. No one knows where the directors will take each scene and I, being from a conservative family, just was implied that I was straight by nature. No questioning needed of my sexuality. Thus, I live for 22 years just repressing feelings. Going out with boys and then feeling this empty feeling. Like I’m not being completely honest with myself. So I start this story with the middle. My junior year in University. I had already acknowledged that I liked a girl that was one of my best friends but I sweared to myself every girl had those kinds of moments. We are just hyper awear of our feelings. (laughs in closet gay). Well well we’ll. There comes 2018 and the summer that changed my life. I was preparing myself to have 2 months of no interaction with people. Ready to start studying for medical school and then out of nowhere I just put a random show on. Wynonna Earp. What an interesting show. Magic, guns and comedy. I was hooked. What I wasn’t expecting was to identify so much with Waves. How the heck did a writers created this character. Why I’m I getting so emotional over a TV show. How I was going out of my head questioning if I was a lesbian or I just was confused or all of the above. What I didn’t realize was that I will go to YouTube and spend days watching interviews from the cast. What I never realized was that one of them will sing the song I never wanted my lips to sing.
I’m still closet and at age 23 I feel like it’s taken forever to get to this comfortable place where some of my good friends know. But, Dominique I have to say thank you. I just graduated from a bachelor degree in environmental sciences. On my way to my PhD. If it wasn’t for the fact that I saw representation of not only the awesome queer community but also Start the Wave I don’t think I would’ve come out of that depressed stage I was in. Dominique thank you for saying it’s ok to be the odd one out in an ever so serious world. Thank you for standing by our planet’s side. As a queer Hispanic environmentalist it means the world. I sure as hell will be doing the most to save it too.

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;

Lesbian

Ive know I was apart of the LGBTQIA community from a very young age. Its been interesting trying to figure out who I am as a individual and how I identify. Growing up as a twin, had its own impacts which affected how I see myself in ways some people don’t understand. While coming to the realization that I was attracted to women, allowed me to have my own voice separate from my twin which was definitely something different. We were seen as one, like most twins are especially if they’re the same sex. But coming to the realization and coming out are two different situations. As well as realizing it and accept it. It was a struggle for me at first to accept it because no one asks to be “different” especially when people are hated for it in some places. My home situation was the best anyone could ask for but the people i grew up around weren’t the most open minded. In my case, I was petrified of what others would think rather than my family because I knew regardless my family would love me but would i still be the same person to the people who were my friends. The beliefs I had made me suppress the feelings for a while but then high school started. My high school experience gave me much anxiety during the first year because I had accepted it by then but i didn’t know if i was ready to be out. The first year of school forced me to be the best “straight” me, so i could connect with others, but not fully show the real me. At this time I was still suppressing a party of me regardless of what anyone said. Id get asked often if i was gay because i’m not the most feminine girl but i refused because the concept of talking about it was never there. My best friend at the time didnt even know and she would often try to get me to tell and it just didnt happen. I was genuinely terrified. Freshman year had just ended and I had been watching a lot of youtube videos on coming outs for inspiration. It had become so physically and mentally exhausting to be in the situation where i’m not being the full me, it felt like I was holding my breath most of the time. i wanted to be me but i couldn’t bring myself to do it so I told myself if my mom asked if i was gay i would just say yes and that would be that, but its not always so easy. My mom had asked multiple times between me maki the decision and me coming out because after a point it became obvious the I wanted to say something but nothing was coming out. Then fathers day came, we went to swim and I was sitting next to my mom in the pool just talking and then question came up. She asked me and I froze. I started to cry and shake my head. She was shocked that I had said yes after denying for so long but she was proud. She was the first person I had come out to, not even my twin sister. A couple minutes later I came out to my sister, then later that night my dad which was harder than I thought it was going to be. I had felt so much relief like a rock had been taken off my chest and it was the best thing i could ask for. They love and support me regardless and thats all I needed. In the next coming weeks I came out to my friends one by one. The deeper the relationship established I did it public while the once that were less intimate I did over text. Although I am out now, i still find it hard occasionally to come out to new people in my life. I don’t think it’ll completely go away but as of right now i’m comfortable with who i am enough to not let others make me feel invalided for who I love. In the fall, i’m starting college in tennessee on a full ride scholarship, and its going to be a ride coming out to my teammates and the other people I meet, but i’m ready for it. Essentially you’re coming out everyday to someone new and its just apart of being who I am and i fully accept that because Im proud of who I am and absolutely nothing will change that.

Lesbian

Hi! Well, my story is quit long … When I grew up I always knew I was different from the others, but I only started to realize how around the age of 13. My schoolmates and friends only talked about boys and I didn’t feel any interest in that. At first I didn’t care much and decided that it was more important to focus on school.
In high school I continued not being interested in boys and I had never been with any, I came to the conclusion that I was not made for love… I just had no attraction or desire and so I concluded that I was asexual.
When I went to college I became friend with a boy who was gay and so I started to get along with more people from the LGBT+ community. I became “the straight best friend” who was allied to the cause. Deep down I started to question myself about my sexuality but never had the courage to explore it. I ended up assuming it was just curiosity it was more easy that way.
In my third year I met this incredible girl and then the doubts came back. When I was finally going to have the courage to say what I felt she introduced me to her boyfriend. Well… I ended up never telling anyone.
I was always afraid to tell my family because being the older sister of 3, I always felt that I had to be the role model and always tried to follow a way of life that would be considered perfect. I grew up in a small town where minds were very closed and where nobody live openly gay. I once tried to talk about it with my family to see their reaction. Everything was fine with my mom and siblings, but my father was totally against it and said that those people made him sick, so I never brought it up again.
When I finally graduated and could have my independence, get a job and be able to leave the house, my life took a turn. My father left home leaving his family behind in a very precarious situation. My mom without a job and sick, my sister about to go to college and my little brother studying at a school 70 km from home to be a musician. So I had to take charge of the situation and took over the family.
Gradually life got better, my mom healed and managed to get a job, my siblings started to work and study at the same time and so we managed to overcome the situation together. Even so, at the age of 26, I continued to live in my mother’s house, deep in the closet and limited myself to settling into the life I had.
Recently I decided to review the Wynonna Earp series since the first season in order to revive my memory for season 4. One day my mother passed by when I was watching the show and she really liked it and started to watch it with me. After a few episodes we were watching a wayhaught scene and my mom commented “own look at them, so cute together!”. I paused the TV and asked her if she was serious, she didn’t think it was wrong, she responded NO. So I asked her what she would think if one of us came out as gay, she said that at first it would be strange but that she would accept it because what she loves most in this world are her children and so we continued to see the rest of the episode.
From that day on I decided it was time to think about me, that I would take charge of my life again, my family was all right and I should do what was necessary to finally start living again. The first step would be assuming my sexuality.
One Sunday we were having lunch, the four of us, and I decided to have “the talk”. It went much better than I imagined… my siblings were really happy for me and my sister added that she always suspected. My mother hugged me tightly and said she was proud of me and that she loved me no matter what. It was the happiest day of my life. I realized that day that it was not worth to hide who I am for so long. Life is to be lived to the full and we have to love ourselves for who we are.
I decided to share my story here as another positive example and taking the opportunity to thank Dom and Kat for the excellent work they do in representing Wayhaught, because thanks to them and their pure performance in the series, a door was opened for me.
That’s all falks! Here goes big hug from this OUTED and PROUD PORTUGUESE LESBIAN and don’t forget that LOVE is LOVE! Be BOLD, STRONG, HAPPY and FREE!

A shy baby bi girl who has no idea what she’s doing, but is glad she is here

I’ve known since a young age that I was attracted to girls. I kissed my babysitters niece when we were 8 or 9, a few years later I found my dad’s playboy magazines – and I wasn’t trying to read the articles, I was lucky enough to have a computer in my room when I was in 6-8th grade and I found wlw fanfics online and I remember the one time I took a 1 megapixel video recording of two (2) girls kissing from a TV show on my flip phone when I was in the 9th grade (of which a friend saw and I’ve never panicked more than I have then, but someone got them to drop it and move on). The point is I’ve always known, I just always felt like that part of me had to stay hidden, even though I later became a very outspoken ally of the LGBTQ2IA+ community. I even sat with several friends as we cried together while they came out to me and I loved and supported all of them, but yet I felt that I couldn’t do the same. Maybe it was just my body insecurities, or whatever but I felt, and I guess still do to an extent, that I didn’t belong. That I didn’t physically look or dress and certain way so I couldn’t be anything but straight.

Even though I supported and had friends in the community I felt that I still needed to hide that part of myself, like it was ok for everyone else but it was wrong that I felt that way. I kept that part of me isolated to my apartment, my second tumblr account, etc. I let others make their own assumptions and just ran with it. That felt a lot easier to me than actually saying those words out loud.

I also struggled as the years went on with my age (I’m 28) I started thinking that I was “too old to come out” and what if I come out as this but later figured out that I’m that or none of those. Would people take me seriously? Would that perpetuate the bisexual stereotype of just being confused? Thinking about coming out is stressful enough but add those questions on top of that with no one to ask or have provide some kind of reassurance that everything I was feeling and thinking was normal and valid and all I had to focus on was me was torture.

And then one day I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw gifs of WayHaught and I read the comments and found out about Wynonna Earp (Funny side story: I didn’t watch the series immediately so I was just going off comments and tags and I thought Nicole was Wynonna for the longest time and was a bit confused when I first started watching the show lol) Watching Waverly grow to understand and accept herself and how brave and sure she was of her feelings for Nicole really hit me. I knew it was just a TV show but her journey was so authentic that if helped me be a bit more comfortable with what I was feeling. As soon as I started the show I also sent out my #EarperGreet tweet and was floored by how friendly and accepting the fandom was. Everything combined made me feel like I had a safe place to be myself. I started getting bolder on what I posted or liked on my main twitter and eventually got the chance to hang out with other Earpers from my city. Being able to hang out with other queer people naturally made me feel more comfortable and confident to be myself. It would be another 7 months after meeting my fellow Earpers in person, of subtle hints and whatnot online before I finally came out on twitter, on national coming out day no less. I came out as Bi and I couldn’t be happier. I’m still a bit shy in person talking about it, but I think that’s just my normal introverted, awkward self. It sounds silly, or maybe it doesn’t, but Wynonna Earp, WayHaught and Earpers as a whole really helped in making it possible for me to be me. If I hadn’t found wearp I honestly think I would have continued to be a closeted ally. So thank you.

Disclamer: I am not a writer by any means and have major scatter brain when I try to write so this probably reads as a word vomit salad so I hope it makes sense.

Queer/Gay

I live in a pretty open-minded country (gay marriage has been legalized in 2003), so being gay was something people were not ashamed of when I grew up. But as a kid, and even a teenager, even tho I’d heard of the word gay, I only pictured it as the big homosexual man stereotype, the “girly boy”. I didnt even think about girls being attracted to girls, or anything related to the LGBT community other than the “gay best friend”. I was the masculine girl, and Im pretty sure everybody but me knew I was queer. At 16 I discovered Fifth Harmony and I fell into the camren hole. My body was acting weird whenever Lauren Jauregui was singing, or just looking at my soul with her amazing eyes. Deep inside I knew it, and without even questioning myself, I kinda identified as bisexual. Not with that word, but I just knew I wouldnt just date guys in my life. Two years later I was in college, met my best friend. We talked a lot about sexuality, and she told me she was pansexual. The more we talked, the more I realized the queer part of me was not just a little attraction to Lauren Jauregui, it was important. I realized I’ve had real crushes on girls before. I came out to myself as bisexual (again, but for real this time). Then I dated this guy cause he liked me and I couldnt say no. But I had no feelings at all, not only cause we had nothing in common. I jumped from bi to bi into women af, to okay maybe Im gay, to fuck I dont know lets say Im queer. That summer I came out to my old school friends, and my parents. They were cool with it. They kinda knew already.
Now its two years later, Im a gay mess, I’m fuckin into girls, I still have no idea if Im into guys. I hate the word lesbian, even more in my mother tongue, cause I’ve only heard it from straight dumb perv men. I love the word queer, cause I dont feel the pressure to add an explanation to my sexuality, queer is the global term I needed. But gay fits me too tho, most of the time. I just wish the word queer was well known in the hetero world, cause dammit every single person i’ve came out to asked me what the hell was queer
To all my closeted queer folks in here: dont feel the pressure to label yourself, and please, take your time. I know being closeted hurts, and you will get out of it, but only when youre ready. Love from Belgium, one hell of an ally country.