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.

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.

I am QUEER

I was always attracted to both men and women and deep down I knew that I like both men and women as I don’t look them as genders I look them as beautiful heart. I am from India and I never got the courage to share this with my family that for me love is love but hopefully soon I will let them know that I am QUEER !!

Living QUEER without FEAR. I’m Jes.

They say your childhood years should be the best years of your life–little to no responsibilities, innocent friendships and frequent laughter. My story, however, veered into less blissful territory.

I moved in with my father at age 6, which is where the memory of my childhood began. I was happy there. My father, then on his second marriage, seemed to finally be stable. My step mother seemed to be a wonderful woman who really stepped up to raise a growing little girl she had only just met.

A year later, my brother moved in, and my father and step mother tried to establish as much normalcy as possible. We spent time together, going to the beach and playing games. What we didn’t see was the complete unraveling of their marriage happening right before us. My parents efficiently and completely sheltered us from their inevitable demise.

After the divorce, we moved many times. Which of course resulted in different school systems, and different homes, the worst of which were without electricity. Eventually, my father made the decision to move us closer to his family halfway across the country, to the panhandle of Oklahoma. It was there, a year later, where he found the woman who would become his third wife. And as a result, our life settled.

At age 11, my whole world changed into daily physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, by people who were supposed to be safe. Let me be clear that my father has never, aside from punishment, abused or hurt me. But he also profoundly failed to protect me.

At 13, I realized what attraction meant, and recognized I wasn’t like the other girls in my small town. Each of them had boyfriends and crushes, while I secretly daydreamed about the girls I liked. Like many young gays, I tried to date boys to distract or convince my brain I was “normal.” I hid the pain of my abuse and my homosexuality from everyone. I wrestled and struggled with the abuse and my complicated differences for another year, until finally, I was removed from my father’s care, and placed with my grandparents.

It truly felt like a crushing weight was lifted off my chest. It felt like my life had just started. But also, I was broken. I was on a train of tragedy, headed straight for derailment with no idea how to slow myself down. So, in an attempt to have any excuse to run away or escape, I came out to my grandparents. Having already endured what I believed was the worst life could have dealt, I shared my secret with them. To my surprise, I didn’t need to run. They hugged me, loved me, and accepted every part of me. I was finally free. Free from abuse, and free from my prison of secrecy.

I am a queer woman.
I identify as a lesbian.
I have a beautiful family.
I am stronger now than my 13 year old self would ever believe I could be–and I am strong because of what I survived in my childhood.

-Jes.

#OutIsTheNewIn

A queer work in progress

I had become aware of my queerness very early on, when I found myself wanting to kiss girls and not really understanding why. The thought immediately terrified me, due to many of the surrounding messages I had around the topic. Many of my extended family members are devoutly religious, and believe the traditional viewpoints on sexuality. That was the platform they used to deny the existence of such people. To deny my own existence to me before I was even aware.

With my parents, the story was different. I grew up in a agnostic household, neither my mom or dad practicing in anything. So these experiences of homophobia somehow stung even worse. My experience with my father has been better, but the experience with my mother has proven much more difficult. I was always aware of her general disgust over “those people” and that negative reinforcement crept in very early on.

The peak of our issues occurred in June of 2020. I had already been out to my parents, and basically the world. I was out as bisexual, but at the time I was experimenting with other terms to see what felt best. I was struggling with the authenticity of my attraction to men, as well as experiencing internalized bi-phobia. Basically, I was in a spot where I wasn’t sure where my sexuality best fit. So, I personally landed on queer. After reading about Dom’s experience, I grew to like using the term queer as my label. Queer, to me, feels liberating and doesn’t limit the type of people I can love. It opens up the option for my sexuality to be fluid and grow with me over time. I love all terms and find them all to be valid, but with time queer just became the best fit for me. Ultimately, I got a pride themed tattoo and identified and queer publicly, in celebration of my two year coming out anniversary.

My mother did not like the change. I had told her about the tattoo and the label, and explained that I wasn’t sure where I stood with my attraction to men. She grew distant, and I confronted her about the silence. Ultimately, she told me “I never wanted my daughter to be a lesbian.” This obviously triggered a visceral reaction within me, striking as the inevitable finale to all her homophobic undertones.

After the worst had passed, there has been brighter days. My mother and I are on decent terms, but my sexuality is a topic we just don’t address anymore. My dad will address my queerness occasionally but I can still sense the discomfort.

Apart from my parents and most of my extended family, I have received nothing but immense support and love from friends and some family members. I have also been supported substantially by seeing great representation in the world around me, such as Dom’s work on Wynonna Earp and with Start The Wave. This gracious support has helped me move on from the harsh words of others, to experience myself authentically and grow into my own. A growth I am still working on to this day. As a 22 year old, I still work with and struggle with finding comfort in my sexuality. Feelings fluctuate as I change as a person over time, so my discovery of who I am is a constant work in progress. I learn about myself everyday, and how I am meant to live this life.

At the end of the day, I am me. In all of my authentic, queer ways. I’m learning to see all parts of myself and accept them with open arms. For now, I find comfort in the unknown. Terrifying, yet forever liberating.

Thank you.

Gay

I knew when I was very young that I was interested in women, I came out when I was 13. I like the umbrella term gay because I don’t feel as though I am a lesbian. I don’t want to deny myself love based off gender however I am mainly attracted to women. Love and lust are complex and deeper than gender. Thank you for sharing your story, you are an inspiration. Keep being the shining light you are.

Ana

Hii, so, what a beautiful place to be in sharing just a little bit of my story. 🙂 I won’t take too long, I wanted this to be short but truthful. Just like Dom reiterated with her story. Well, yeah, I’m queer too I guess. I never knew this about me, and maybe when I was younger I did shove it in the little dark corners of my heart. But I won’t anymore. I started to question the heteronormative narrative about my sexuality when I started to think too much about a girl I met unpretentiously when I was 18 years old. What I keep asking myself is if I had felt this way before, but I just didn’t recognise this when I was younger, and only now I do. What helped me see this in a better light was a friend of mine (my best friend now) and she had already been dating a girl for 6 years, and they themselves overcame some pretty rough things. Still, till this day I can’t really help but feel disgusted by what they’ve gone through. But anyways, this ain’t about them. It’s about me. And when it comes to it, THIS is all that matters, guys. After starting to feel things for girls, crushing really really hard on them, I kept asking OTHER PEOPLE for their opinion. Well, now I know better. They did help me A LOT, but at the end of the day I think what matters is that yes I don’t like only boys, I like girls too.
I don’t really feel the need to come out in a huge fashion, I think people suspect this of me, and I have been bugging everyone about Kat and Dom, and Melissa, and Katie and Kristen Stewart, and Caity and Jess and a loot of actresses, so there’s that as well. But I hope people won’t give me too much of a hard time once I start dating, if it’s a girl and not a boy. I lke to think that they won’t. I will nevertheless still love them even if they don’t understand, I guess for some reason we should be understanding. Fight like hell to end LGBTQIA+fobia, but be understanding, as well.
Thanks for reading.

Carolina, 20, just trying to find out who I am.

Since I was 15 years old I thought there was something wrong with me. I never had a boyfriend in my life and it always made me wonder if there was really anything wrong with me. All the people around me were getting into relationships and I was still alone, because no one interested me or was not attracted to anyone (especially boys, which was the idea of ​​what I liked at the time). I started to question if I really liked boys or if girls attracted me more, but by putting that idea in my mind I knew that there would be a lot of people talking about me and making jokes about it and then immediately exclude that idea from my head , forcing me to be attracted to boys or the idea of ​​being with boys.
When I was 18, there was a boy who became interested in me and I, convinced that I had to convince others around me that I liked boys, ended up being with him for a month without feeling anything. It was nothing more than a friendship, but I wanted to deceive myself.
I spent the worst 4 years of my life hiding the pain I felt at not knowing what was wrong with me or who I was. It was the worst years I’ve ever had. I was lost, aimless, without anyone.
When I was 19, when I went to college, I completely changed my group of friends and started to get along with a lot of people from the LGBT + community and from then on I started feeling confident to start discovering who I am and I started to feel a little happier. I think that realizing that those people would never exclude me if I liked girls, made me start to question who I really like. I started to open up by talking to some people and clearly that I was attracted to girls. But I also continued to be attracted to some boys. And it was then that I realized that I could be bisexual. It was a difficult year, with many ups and downs, to discover who I am. My family has always given me the opportunity to like whoever I want, nothing would change with them if I liked girls and that made my life easier.
Nowadays, I still don’t really know what I am. I like boys and girls and that’s for sure. But, deep down, I think I like people for what they are and not for their gender. Therefore, I consider myself a path to my happiness and I just let love speak for itself.
My next step will be to come out to everyone who likes me for who I am and then to come out to the world. And when I find a way to do it, I’m sure I’ll be much happier.

Lula

i never really questioned my sexuality, i just assumed i was straight, but was always disgusted at the thought of dating a boy and i never understood why. near the end of year 9, this boy liked me , and i thought he was funny but couldn’t establish the difference between whether it was a crush or a friendship. all of my friends told me that i had a crush on him and that i liked him, so i just kinda went with it- nothing happened though because i didn’t want it to. that set me back quite a bit. in the summer holidays at the end of year 9, i came to terms with my sexuality through adelaide kane, rachel skarsten, and sarah paulson and the shows they were in. i made an instagram editing account and it was my happy place, but i still didn’t feel free with my sexuality on there as i was afraid of being judged. i then watched wynonna earp in the december of 2018 (the same year). i fell in love with wayhaught and waverly earp. i then made a group of internet friends through the fan base who quickly became my second family and supported me no matter what. through earpers and the cast members, i finally felt like i could be myself and built up the courage to come out to 3 of my friends from school. over the past year and a bit, i have gradually come out to more and more of my closest friends, the majority also happening to have later come out to me as well (i guess gays attract lmao). i suppose i should identify as a lesbian because i am a woman who solely likes women, but hearing that word still makes me uncomfortable for some reason, so i prefer to just tell people i’m gay. i’m still nowhere near ready to come out to my family, due to the fact that my dad, auntie, and all my grandparents would probably disown me, but i am happy with myself and my sexuality.

Midori Mori

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

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

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