Community Rainbow Waves

I don’t label/identify. I’m a girl who tries to be confident with being me every single day.

I came out to my family in a three page word document in 2006 or 2007. It felt easier than face to face. To this day I still express myself better or shall I say more openly, more honestly, and more in depth via typing, texting, writing. Honestly, After coming out to my family back then, I spent many year’s slowly coming out to people. Through college, through work, etc. I knew most people knew, but there is a huge difference in assuming someone knows and informing them yourself. I can’t recall the last time I “came out” to someone. Now I guess I “come out” in different ways. I don’t explain things or nervously back into it. I will just say this is my ex wife, my girlfriend, my kids other mom. Sometimes I still feel uneasy but generally I’m adapting much better. It took me over 10 years to finally take a chance on cutting my hair short like other friends had and like how I, I repeat “I”, wanted it. I not only love it, but it has created even more confidence.

I have supportive friends, family and coworkers. There will always be people who judge, but I would consider myself to be one of the lucky ones.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

Just your regular girl who likes girls

I knew when i was younger that I’ve always felt different, I would only hang out with the boys in my class in would find it way easier to talk to them. But when it came to girls, I always became shy and felt kinda wierd. Now 4/5 years later I know what it is. I like girls. As easy as it sounds, but it isn’t always easy. My coming out was really nice but unexpected though… my two best friends (both girls) were joking with me because I’m always really curious. So one day they said they had some secret of some sorts, I kept on asking what it was and in the end they said that they were dating. And I freaked out, in a good way though. I said to them that I support them no matter what is happening. Then one of them said if I had to tell them something (as in am i gay), and I said yes and I tild them my story and that I had been struggling a lot with it just a few months before it. Lucky for me they were so supportive, i was really shaking when i told them because it was the part that i’ve hidden for almost my whole life. And on top of that, one of them also came out after I told them (lets just call her Laura for example). Laura told me she had been struggling with the same thing… After that we talked the whole night about. It was probably the best thing that could’ve happened. I haven’t come out to my family yet but i think they and actually know that they know because it’s pretty clear. I know that my parents are going to be fine about it, but I don’t know how Laura her parents going to react. They are really religious, but that isn’t my story to tell.

So I’ll introduce my self real quick…
I’m Karlijn, I’m 15 years old and I am Gay
And I’m proud of it!
If you ever want to talk to me about your situation, I’m pretty much always awake so hmu at @karlijn_dmooij on ig. Because I’m here for you

Chris. P.S. Believe in yourselves. Dream. Try. Do good. -Mr Feeny

Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)

At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!

That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)

Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.

My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.

My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)

I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.

I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?

I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?

I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.

Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?

Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?

Old School Dyke

I came out 40 years ago this August when I was 19 years old. For me, the realization of who I was when I came out was like someone had thrown open the shutters and thrown up the sash and let the air and light into my life. Unfortunately, there was also a great since of fear especially at that time. Short history lesson: Stonewall had happened just 11 years earlier in 1969. Homosexuality was removed from the list of “mental illnesses” by the American Psychiatric Association only 7 years prior in 1973. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” was still 14yrs away so they did ask and if you were found out you could not only be disowned by your family, but chances were good you might lose your job or your housing and most of your friends.
For me it was a time of wonder, I was naïve. But I as lucky because when I first came out, I found an older lesbian, who I worked with, that was able to help me navigate this new hidden world and find the community. You must remember that this is long before the internet, so finding each other was exceedingly difficult. She taught me about feminist bookstores, Lesbian Connection (a newsletter that is still published today), women’s potlucks, women’s music and of course the bars, though very few if any of those women’s space still exist. It was all about knowing the code words and symbols: feminist, womyn, potluck, lavender, violets, labrys, etc. To this day I still use “the look” with other women in public that let us each other know that we are the same without words.
Regarding the fear and history there is one story that I carry with me to this day. It was on St. Patrick’s Day 1981 when my older lesbian mentor smuggled me into the Three Sisters bar in Denver. I know they knew I was a little underage, but they also knew that the lesbian bars were one of the few places that was safe to meet other people like yourself. The Sisters was packed that night and the group I was with had been there about 30-40 minutes when across the room there is a face I recognized. Being young, and like I said naïve and feeling invincible I got up and walked across the bar, and bold as brass walked up to the woman I recognized and said: “Hi Miss (name withheld)”, to my high school guidance counselor. She turned and looked at me and said HI back in a very trepidatious way, not using my name and being kind of distant… I was a bit taken aback as we had been close in high school but figured whatever ‘it’s been awhile’ and went back to the group I was with. About a half hour later she came across the bar to me and said, “Hi Jackie” and introduced me to the woman she was with and we spoke for a few minutes. To this day I cannot forget the look of sheer terror that ran across her face when I said her name, it was the first time I understood just how dangerous being out could be. If found out she would have lost her job, possibly her home – everything. She was sacred of me recognizing her in a lesbian bar and it took her over a half hour to realize that if I was there too it was OK, and her secret was safe. I wish I could say that was the only time over the years that I have seen “that look”, but I am glad to say that I see it very seldom now and I hope that this generation and the next will never have to see it.
Thank you for this forum to share these stories. As I get older, I worry that our herstory and where and who we came from is being lost. Hopefully, projects like this will help to keep that from happening and keep our stories alive.

Queer

I knew I was apart of the community my freshman year of highschool when, no matter what I did I couldnt take my eyes off the girl who sat one seat up and to the right of me. It was something I couldn’t fight. I barely knew her aside from her name, but when she wasnt in class I noticed, when she didnt laugh at my jokes like the other 25 kids it didnt seem as funny to me anymore. I couldnt get her to laugh and I was determined and honestly I never did, what made her laugh was out teacher telling me to “leave the poor girl alone” that make her laugh.
When she smiled, I knew.
I grew up in church my entire life, and when I spent weeks thinking about her and trying to come up with jokes, I also spent weeks beating myself down and praying.
I wouldn’t come out for another year to my friends and they all accepted me and I was happy, I felt free. Two years later I was successfully making that same girl smile but now I had to grow some and ask her out. Two years later and she ended up sitting one row up to the right of me again in history class our junior year. I remember just staring at her the entire period, and then pretend I wasnt looking and blush really hard.
A year later I guess i finally said the right thing because we started to date. Yes ive been out for sometime by then, but being with her made me feel invincible. I felt comfortable walking down the streets of nyc holding my beautiful girlfriends hand still telling corny jokes.
All that would dissipate when I went home. My mom found out a year later and she hasnt seen me the same since. We’ve physically fought, she barely talks to me.
When I am home I am a shell but as soon as I am out of those four walls I am a giant of pride and happiness and alive.
Honestly the only reason I really survived it was because aside from being “home,” I get to be myself. My home is with my (still going strong) girlfriend, my amazing friends and the amazing lgbtq+ family.
Im just surviving and one day ill move out of here and then can I fully start to live my life to the fullest.

Took a while to figure out who I really was, but now I have found myself

The “identify” title of this post may be a slight lie. See I believe that all of life is a journey, and we are always redefining what we want, and most importantly who we are. Nothing is ever only black or white.

However as this is about coming out, I’ll tell you my story. My story is similar to most. I lived most of my youth in the different shades of grey. You know where most of us live, just trying to be authentic and figure ourselves out. I was a tomboy, who for most of my life got along better with the boys than the girls. However, I knew I didn’t want to be a boy, I just didn’t want to be treated any different. I didn’t want to play with dolls, I’d rather be rough-housing in the dirt than be pretty (or clean!). I hated dresses and would strip them off as soon as I could. Luckily having an older brother and a thrifty mom who probably hated doing my laundry, I mainly got to hangout in boy-shorts, and not much else. I know I am luckier than most, as I got Transformers as birthday gifts and was allowed to be myself, even if I dint know exactly what that was yet.

Now I don’t believe being a tomboy is a precursor for being gay. Its just about those shades of grey. Look at my brother for example, always clean and pristine. Dressed to impress. Hated dirt and trucks. Straight (or rather within the straight range of the grey spectrum where we all dwell). There are no rules, only the expectations others put on us.

Despite this, I never knew I was gay. However, I had no interest in boys, or girls for that matter. I was drawn to characters I could identify with on TV, the less boy crazy more down and dirty girls (think Jo from Facts of Life) but I never knew anyone who was gay, so it just never entered my mind as being a possibility. Puberty hit and boys filled the void, although I never became attached and frankly never had that much fun. Around the same time, my focus shifted from my male school friends, who I felt nothing for, to craving female friendships.

And I fell hard. Not in love, I never wanted to sleep with them. But I wanted to be around them. At the same time, I became less interested in my male flings, but still never thought about the female possibility. I was very guarded. I never touched or hugged my friends. I thought that perhaps was just the way I was. However in retrospect, I think I was afraid. However I never allowed it into my conscious mind.

Believe it or not it was not until university where this changed. And even then it was a painfully slow process. By 3rd year I had girlfriends who would hug and kiss me. However I was still very guarded and kept even my closest friends a safe distance, at least emotionally, away. Then there was one special friend, who managed to breakdown the walls I had built so high, I didn’t even know I was within them. She crawled into my bed and insisted I comfort her (physically not sexually). She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and I am not sure why, but she picked me as the one friend she needed (she had lots of friends, but perhaps she saw something that even I didn’t).

We had an intense friendship that meant we saw each other all the time. That summer we hung out as much as we could. We’d do this thing where we’d have to go try new beers in a new bar every time. One night out with other friends from school, we spent the whole time holed up in the bathroom. One of her friends came in and accused us of being lovers. I laughed it off, neither of us was embarrassed, as we weren’t. I hadn’t even considered it! However that night, sleeping over as I often did, she kissed me. Well tried to. I told her no. Or rather I believe I said ‘not like this’. You see, my walls were still there. I knew I loved her but I hadn’t let myself ever consider anything more. After all, I didn’t know one other person who was gay. Not one! Ellen had come out, but she was a celebrity, no one that I identified with or could relate to. So I just didn’t consider it. I have many friends who are older than me who knew. Who felt it when they were young, when they were around girls. I can honestly say I never did. Until I did.

So as you may guess the friendship ended badly. She didn’t appreciate the rejection and took me as a third wheel on a date (with a guy) a week later. My guess is to prove that she was straight. That she wasn’t interested in me. I am not sure her motives, we didn’t talk about it. I left that night, pulled over on the highway and cried like I had never allowed myself to cry before. I cried until I felt the walls give way, finally giving my heart room to breath. We never spoke again.

However the change in me had started. And now I couldn’t stop it. I started looking into female friendships, trying to figure out why I needed them, no craved them. I was drawn to TV shows with strong female characters and friendships. I joined online chat rooms to discuss them. Through these chats I discovered a whole world of people who were out and proud. Unafraid and apologetically themselves. How brave!

I decided I must be bisexual. Of course, by then my interest in males had completely waned. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since grade school and other than a few drunken, not fun experiences, had no real interest in discovering more about men. After meeting up with some incredible women from my chat groups from Canada and the US, many of us coming out together, I finally ventured into a gay bar with a friend, more confident in myself and who I was, or that who I thought I was. I saw a girl from across the room staring at me. You know the out girl, who knew since she was 14 and had no problems embracing who she was. That was it – hook. line and sinker. And I never looked back.

Now I know I am gay. I would never say 100%, because I do believe the majority of us live in the grey areas, as I said before. Its a sliding scale, its never fixed and hell, who would want it to be. Fluidity is a beautiful thing. It allows us to embrace change. However, in my heart I can only see myself being with women, as this brings me the most happiness, and isn’t that what it is all about? Being happy.

It was a slow start but I’ve been out now 20 years. I’m out to everyone I meet. I have a very important professional job, and I know I can ‘pass’ for straight. However I remember what it was like to feel like something must be wrong with me for not liking boys, to feel completely isolated and alone. What good would I be to this life if I kept this part of me hidden? Who would I be helping, and more importantly who else would feel unseen, if I didn’t live my authentic self?

Who you love shouldn’t define you. But lets face it, it does. My closest friends are all part of this community, because it is a different experience walking through this world with your eyes open. My gayness is an essential part of who I am. I carry it around like a badge of honour. However, I don’t think its that important to define yourself. Rather the most important thing is to be aware. Be present. Listen to what your heart and soul is telling you. Because it knows you, trust me, much better than you know yourself. Just listen. Set aside the fear and chose to exist. In whatever way you define as most authentic self.

I would love to identify myself as questioning for now while I’m learning more and more about the LGBTQ+ community.

I’ve always wanted someone to talk to and I would say that this is my therapist right now. I haven’t exactly fully come out yet but I came out to some of my friends and my mom. I feel really weird in this place right now because no one really quite understands me and I never REALLY talked with someone about this. I first started to identify myself starting middle school. I saw this beautiful girl hanging out with me and my friends. The more she stuck around the deeper I fell in love but unfortunately she has a boyfriend. I respected her and her boyfriend so I just still became the same. I’ve never felt like this before so I wanted someone to help me but there was really never no one at the time. I have always been hiding every single detail out and been left as mysterious and quiet. No one REALLY knows me until they get me. I hope that one person I need right comes into my life. I honestly wish I had an epic coming out story but I don’t! It’s ok I guess and so I wouldn’t really call it a coming out story. The way I came out to my mom was wrong. I was talking to some friends on Instagram which I was not suppose to have but I was a wee rebel then so I did it. I told them that I love girls the way that I’m supposed to feel about boys and they were supportive but couldn’t tell them the story quite right. I clicked on one of my friend’s live and left my room with the live on to check on my dogs outside. My mom grabbed it and asked me why I have it and I said because I wanted to and not the way you think I said it but yeah. She was reading my dms which I should’ve deleted but didn’t and she kept hinting me that she’ll always love me no matter who I am and I was like ok? And I kinda got the clue but it was too awkward at the time to talk about it. And the most iconic coming out stories happen in the car ride, … no I’m just kidding but this is where she asked me who I identify myself as and at the time I said bisexual but as I grew older I keep questioning it so now I identify myself as that. She asked me when did I know and I told her when I got jealous of a boyfriend from the girl I really liked and I left it at that which was just utter awkwardness and I felt uncomfortable when I should have felt comfortable. I don’t want to feel shamed for I who I am and I don’t want to feel guilty of something so “wrong” and so I hid it. The worst part of that is that when someone uses “gay” as an insult to me I say “no I’m not!” But like in a defensive way which made me feel ashamed of who I truly am on the inside. I never want to feel that way. I want to feel free and expressive. You know, everytime my friends mention the word “boyfriend” I get uncomfortable and fade away into my own world which is something really good. I always feel left out of conversations like that because they think I really have no relationship advice. They go to other people instead of the person in front of them, me. I am an introvert, shy person and I can’t even stand up for myself so I think of myself as weak. I just really want to be sure of who I am you know like to be proud of my identity to what makes me, me. I truly know that this community will make me strong and bold enough to know who I am. I give myself to this beautiful community and truly trust myself that I will know who I am, even if it takes thousands of years.

Just me

I always knew I was different from a young age but thought it was just retaliation to my upbringing. I never really addressed it and choose to just keep pushing it away until my early teens hit and I coped using alcohol as a defence, and continued to date boys/men (most of my partners were older than me).
When I was around in my early teens, I can’t quite remember the exact age, I told my mum at a party I was gay….the result was not great as now it was gossip and my father who I had just recently met came and told me I was not gay. For fear of acceptance, which is all I ever wanted, I recanted my declaration and continued to live my life as “normal”. Gossip was always abound and I wanted to protect my family from it.
Life went on with its usual trials and tribulations until I made the decision to move away, I was in my mid 30s. Being away from my small home town gave me a sense of freedom that I’d always wanted but I had suppressed so much of my life already that it was still difficult to admit my true feelings.
I am now a couple of months from turning 40 and in the last five years I have met so many people from all walks of life and I have realised that I can be who I want to be!
Even though the subject is still kind of brushed under the carpet back home I am proud to say that my family continue to be my rock and reason for doing all that I do now. I want to teach my nieces and nephew especially that you don’t have to fear anything in life no matter what it is, a fear of flying or whatever.
I have followed Dom for about a year now just purely because she is so pure and true and that really is an inspiration to know that everyone is different and can still conquer the world.
Thank you
I would like to end by saying that I am far from perfect but I am me and that is that.
I love my and friends unconditionally,
This is the first time my story is going beyond them.
Peace out peeps

Pat F. (she/her)

Little Pat already knew that she liked boys and girls. Surrounded by friends and always dreaming of colorful friendships. But only the boys had the courage. The girls only saw their friend. I kissed many boys, but I knew that one day I would kiss girls.

I let time take care of that part. And when a girl finally wanted to kiss me I just closed my eyes and let it happen. It was wonderful.

The time passed and the falmiliar meetings speculating the life of others about boyfriends, children, marriage … And I let them talk about how many boyfriends I had. I have never spoken openly to the “family” that I am queer (I like different types of people). My 2 sisters, 1 niece and my closest friends know that I am queer because I don’t hide.

But this year I decided to put the rainbow flag in the description on the social networks that I am on. Family members and acquaintances will see what they never really wanted to know.

And Dominique Provost-Chalkley, you are a beautiful person!
I was unable to read your statement and remain silent.
Thanks to your delicacy I wanted to write …

I am OUT. (and also a ACE “demisexual” brazilian person)

#OutIsTheNewIn