Community Rainbow Waves

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

Lesbian

Oh man. It’s been quite a journey. I guess it started around 5th grade or so. I recognized it and actually began to come out to myself, but in true ADHD fashion, managed to push it to the back of my mind and forgot about it for several years. My sexuality popped up later in middle school when relationships began to bloom and I failed to understand my friends’ obsession with boys. Instead I was thinking about them. I kept repressing it’s and was terribly unhappy up until last year, when I entered my first real relationship. She and I met through school and did not even know the other’s name after 7 months of sitting right next to each other. Finally, she bucked up and asked me out. Then I realized I wanted my parents to know her as my girlfriend. So I came out to them via text while across the street from them. They took it very well and it was immediately seen as just another part of me. I wouldn’t have it any other way. By coming out I was able to understand that I don’t want to hide my love for this amazing woman from anyone.

Peacefully free.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SELF HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Ana and I am 32 years old.
My coming out story started when I was 12, I was a kid. In a world that at that time did not understand and we’re very close minded. I am the oldest of 9 and also a Mexican, my family.. Well they are your topical Mexican family. Strict and very in tuned with their old ways and values. At 12 I figured something was “wrong” with me. “Wrong”.. It’s crazy how much we are made to believe that there is something ” wrong” with us. Anyways, I had a girl best friend in school that I started having weird feelings for. I didn’t understand and didn’t know who to even talk to. I mean, what do I even say?. What if they look at me weird or something? These were scary times. I had an adult figure in my life that I trusted so much. When I couldn’t understand, I went to this person and told them what was going on. What I was feeling. This person convinced me to talk to my parents. So, I did. And man oh man did I regret it. My first thought was to “come out” to my mom. I mean, who actually goes to their dad first, right? Haha. After, I believe 20 minutes of beating around the bush, I told her I thought I was bisexual. That I was having feelings I couldn’t understand. My mom replied with, “it’s a phase, it will pass”. She made feel like, like my feelings weren’t valid. That things I felt weren’t relevant because things were just a phase. I agreed with her and completely hid who I was until I was 14.
At this point, feelings were strong. Things just couldn’t be hid anymore. I had a talk with my, then best friend, and it took me one week to come out. I was so scared to get told it was a phase, to get my feelings shut down. Or to simply be looked like I was weird . But the most amazing, beautiful and incredible thing happened. She hugged me and said, ” no matter who you are, I love you. You are Ana to me. Today, tomorrow, next month. No matter what you will be Ana”. And that my friends, that is when I realized that life was more than what I thought. That all people thought different. And that I, I was going to be okay, no matter what happened. I felt so free, I felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could finally stand tall and breathe. Those simple words that to her might have not meant anything, was the fuel I needed, the strength to be me. I then proceeded to come out to a few other friends and unfortunately, the word spread to my parents. My very old fashion parents. One day I came home and they were on the table sitting down, they wouldn’t look at me, they looked upset. You know, that look you see when your parents are super mad at you and you feel the colour disappear from your face. I knew, I don’t know how but I knew. I sat down. And through a lecture about Adam, Eve, the Bible, and our values. I was forced to come out, again. After that, I went years of ” praying the gay away”. I went to church everyday, I was made to pray everyday. I read the Bible till I knew the pages down to the last wrinkle. I am Catholic, rosaries is what we do. I learned how to pray it in different ways, for different reasons. But through it all, my best friends words replayed over and over in my head. And I when I felt like I didn’t have no more fight in me I would ask myself. “Who is Ana?” . And my answer to myself was always the same “I am Ana, and I am free”. But unfortunately, at 16 I gave in to my deepest darkest demons and tried to commit suicide. I bought some pills from a person in school that sold drugs. I went to the bathroom. And I took, every single one. Next thing I know I was in the hospital, getting my stomach pumped with nurses and doctors yelling but everything was so faint. After it all, my dad said I left him no choice and he locked me up in a mental institution for months. With no visitors but him, no communication with the outside world. Just me and my thoughts. And just when I was losing my mind, a staff member said to me. “You know there is nothing wrong with you right?, I understand you. I have been you and all I can say is, it gets better.” Then the words from my best friend those years ago just slapped me like my mother when I stepped out of line and then I remembered. “I am Ana, and I am free!”. In my time there I found myself. I had time to think, to figure myself out. I then knew I wasn’t bisexual. I was a lesbian. It was so good to say it out loud to myself and anyone who would listen. Many many things happened after that. Many fights, I got kicked out of my parents home but I said, enough. No one will tell me who I can and can’t be. And I fought for myself, even when everyone gave me their backs. I got married with a woman and boy was that a trip. Then I got divorced over domestic violence and luckily my parents allowed me to be back home till I got back on my feet. Anyways I’m getting side tracked here sorry, haha. My point is, I know coming out is not always a pleasant story as some others. It’s full of emotions, confusion, theories of how it will be. So many things happen with different outcomes, some we see coming some we don’t. I don’t hold a grudge against my parents. I don’t hate them, hate is a strong word. I understand that there will always be people like them. People that will ask why? That will say ” you’re confused” or “it’s a phase”. But people like that is why I fight to be me. If someone asks me why I don’t date guys I ask them, well why don’t you date the same gender as you. Their answer is usually the same, silence. I fight To prove to them that this is not a phase. This is me. This is Ana, and I am Free..

Forced out, still proud

Ive known since i was young (around the age of 12) that i wasn’t straight, however it created an inner conflict because i was not yet ready to face it or accept it. This conflict and struggle of acceptance was something i used write about, in a ‘diary’ and through poems. Slowly, by the age of 17, i had got the courage to come out to my nephew (hes a year younger than me and my is like a best friend to me), and that feeling i got after telling him was so incredibly freeing, not to sound cliché it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted, though he remained the only person i was out to for a few months. Not long after coming out to him i started getting closer to a girl at school, we had me that october (i had came out to my nephew a few weeks prior) and by december we were officially dating! (yay!) but the situation isnt that simple, less than a month after meeting this girl, my best friend at the time admitted to having feelings for me (she was also a girl) but i just didnt feel the same way about her, she was my best friend and i’d never thought of her as anything more (it’s also worth mentioning she identified & continues to identify as straight, so perhaps she’s going through/went through her own journey of sexual identity?). After a long conversation with this friend we attempted to go back to normal despite her telling me she had a crush on me & me not liking her back. I didn’t tell her about the girl & i talking or getting together because i didnt want to hurt her feelings (i realise this was absolutely not the right thing to do, had i told my best friend about it then maybe what happened next wouldnt have happened at all). During sixth form (i think this is college for americans) my best friend somehow found out from literally the only other person we told that this girl & i had been together for around a week…i dont know if this next part came out of jealousy or spite or just pure hatred but my best friend went & outed me to all of my peers in the common room…only 1 or 2 of my friends new & i hadn’t even told them, my girlfriend did. people i had been friends with for 6 years didnt even know yet because it was something i was still finding my way through & feeling out…yet i was forced to be okay with what my ‘best friend’ did. i feel guilty in this situation for being a rubbish friend and not yet telling her about the girl & i but it was all so fresh and the news about my best friend liking me had come as a shock to me so i was having to deal with so many feelings at once. not an excuse, but i dont feel as though i deserved to be outed….as someone that had struggled with being gay and coming to terms with it for YEARS (just like so, so many other lgbtqia people) being outed was the worst experience of my life but something i have to live with & move on from. On a more positive note, this happened in january of 2018 (just over 2 years ago) and i am still with the girl in this story!!! We’re moving in together in September because we’re both heading to university (she’s studying to be a midwife, what an absolutely angel!).

Asexual

My whole life I was asexual and aromantic. But I didn’t have words. I picked names of random guys to be crushes, basing it on ‘well he seems nice and people expect me to say someone.’ I agreed to go on dates when asked. For a time, I even wanted nothing more than to be in a happy, straight relationship because that I meant I was not only wanted and desirable as a person, it meant I was normal. After trying out dating life with someone who on paper should have checked all the boxes, I felt so uncomfortable. Every day as his ‘girlfriend’ I felt nauseous. I felt like I was lying. I couldn’t call him my boyfriend. I avoided him as much as I could. I kept thinking in time it would get better, but the more attempts we made at having a normal relationship, the more uncomfortable I felt. I had a friend say ‘well maybe you’re asexual.’ I sheepishly agreed, but honestly had no idea that was even a thing and felt embarrassed in my ignorance. After a lot of googling, I knew who I was. I am thankful for that relationship, which I ended shortly after my discovery.

But the way I found myself and the time I found myself (2012) ingrained a sense in me that as well as I could understand myself, no one else could. So I went on, being myself to people who knew me, but staying silent in other areas aside from a few brave moments on social media. And often when it did come up, people asked questions. And as much as I do think everyone deserves an education, I couldn’t help feeling like no matter what answer I gave, they already had one in mind that would hold true. No matter if it was or not. That continued. I have been welcomed by the LGBT+ community, but knowing not everyone feels that way towards asexuality kept me feeling wrong and broken all over again. I didn’t fit in a straight mold. Nor did I fit a queer one. Even though the majority of people I’ve encountered have been kind, I still tend to fall into silence. Supporting pride and equality for others, but producing an internalized list of reasons why feeling inferior in my identity daily isn’t enough to qualify me as deserving the same as everyone else.

Years of off-putting conversation, exclusion and lack or representation created this paradox. I could accept myself. I could love seeing other people proclaim their pride. But I felt indulgent, selfish and out of place if I did the same. But as time has gone on, I realized I don’t need to justify my right to claim my identity. It’s not a contest of suffering. And in a way, the rules we use to measure our experiences don’t fit all identities. I have had the amazing safety of passing as straight and the anonymity to be who I am without fear of repercussions as long as I avoid the topic of my sexuality in conversation. But I’ve also had to lie every time I turn a guy down because I’m afraid if I tell the truth that he’d try to prove me wrong. I had a therapist I went to for help question my orientation and experiences relentlessly, going as far as suggesting I ‘try it’ with multiple genders to see which I prefer. I’ve had strangers ask if I masturbate, if I’ve tried X,Y,Z thing, or tell me I just haven’t found the one yet because they know me better than I know myself. And most of all, I have to go through every day thinking I don’t have the right to express who I am. Feeling guilty for being proud and knowing who I am.

Dom came out on her birthday. I write this on my own birthday. I’ve been ‘out’ for years now, but this year I pledge to allow myself to take up the space I deserve. I have and will always support the representation of all orientations, genders, races, cultures and identities. I will continue to raise up all of the other voices that need to be heard in this world. But I also need to start using my own.

Lonely gay in the closest !

I think I’ve always known I preferred girls to boys from a very young age, but didn’t know I was gay until October of 2019 (I’m 16 btw) when I was around 10 I remember seeing a girl in my school who was a few years older than me and thinking “wow her boyfriend is lucky” that’s the earliest memory I have of that. Except for the obvious early signs of always wanting to be the boy when my friends and I played games, and obsessing over girl bands. When I was 12/13 I became infatuated with female celebrities, at the time I thought I just wanted to be them, but of course then I began to imagine myself being with them. But I just thought I felt that way because they were just ‘celebrity crushes’ that everyone had. I never really had any crushes on boys, but I’d pretend I did just to fit in. I’ve never kissed anyone because well I knew if I did it would have to be a boy since well no one knows I’m gay.

Now here’s the good part. I never realized that I was gay because like I said I only had crushes on celebrities…until October 2019 when I began to crush on a girl in my class. I still remember the exact moment, I had made some joke with her in class and she started to laugh, and her smile was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I got an odd feeling in my stomach and my chest felt fluttery and I just froze. “You like her” kept repeating in my head. I went home that night and just sobbed (and I usually don’t cry) because I had realized that I was gay and didn’t want to accept it. It was so overwhelming. Well obviously a few months have passed now and I’ve tried to suppress my feelings for her (which have increased massively) but that hasn’t worked. So here I am, a 16 year old closeted gay, in love with her friend :/ yes no one knows I’m gay and I don’t know when I plan to come out. I’m really scared to but it’s people like Dom who make me feel less scared!! She has helped me massively, along with Kat and many other women. Watching them on Wynonna Earp and how normalized their relationship is really makes me feel at ease with myself, and in a sense makes me feel safe. Watching Dom, and especially reading her story makes me feel that little bit more comfortable with my TRUE self. And I’m so so thankful for that, so that’s my story I guess 🙂

Bruna

A funny carefree kid 🙂

so when i was little i had the biggest crush on jessie j and like i was obsessed. and when i was in year seven i heard this group of people talking about a girl in my year who was lesbian and they where being really nasty so i was like so what im bi and you dont have a problem with me. and then i realised that it felt so good saying it but it wasnt quite right. so a few years later i came out again as lesbian and i felt so much better with myself but everyone expected it because i was the sporty short haired girl. and people started talking about me but i didnt care because i was happy 🙂 thats my coming out story x

Labels are for cans not people….

I consider myself still in the closet. Afraid that ill be defined a certain way even though theres so much of my personality that i love other that who im attracted too. I want people to know me for me a person who has a big heart and wants to inspire people through my career, who loves to celebrate the small acheivements in life and loving my friends and family. I find coming out too be special if you have enough courage and support behind you. But it is freaking scary too come out. I find myself looking away, avoiding eye contact as i feel my heart pound out of my chest whenever someone asks me if i am in a relationship. Can’t muster up an answer quick enough so i avoid it. The world is scary as some people judge others based on what they think is morally correct. But whats worst is myself judging myself on top of others. Being ashamed that i cant feel the way i do because of what society shaped my worldview, fear that i dont deserve acceptence and love. Too afraid to say it aloud.

But if other people can maybe i can…………someday…..

Lesbian

I started realizing that I liked girls in grade 7. I always thought that it would go away but it never did. About a year later I realized that this wasn’t a faze I was going through and that this is who I am. I was terrified when I finally realized that. I had no idea what to do or who to talk to. So as a very intelligent individual, I took a million ‘are you gay?’ quizzes. These rarely helped solve any of my problems but now I knew for sure I was into girls in more than a friendly way. I knew I liked girls but I didn’t know if I liked boys. I kept going back and forth in my mind if I was bi or gay. This drove me crazy. By grade 9 I was finally comfortable and satisfied with calling myself gay. I still hadn’t told anyone at this point but the possibility started entering my mind. Whenever I opened my mouth to tell someone my fear stopped me. All of grade 9 was a roller coaster of wanting to tell someone but being to scared of how they’d react and how they’d treat me after I told them. By September of 2019, grade 10, I came out to my brother, full on tears and everything. The way he responded couldn’t have been better. He told me that it was fine and he didn’t mind one bit, and he treated me the same after. That gave me so much courage to tell other people. So, little by little, I told my close friends, then my not so close friends, and then my mom. My step dad was the person I was petrified to tell, because he grew up in a very closed minded family. Every terrible thought came to my mind: “what if he wants to kick me out?”, “what if he hates me?”, “what if he never talks to me again?”. In December of 2019 my mom told me it was time to tell him. So, we all sat down in the kitchen, and I told him. He took it as good as he was able to. He had a few questions and needed some clarification to understand how sexuality worked, and he still loved and cared for me the same he did before I told him. Now here I am, in 2020, out to the world and proud. It was a very long journey to get to where I am now and I know there is still so much exploring to do and things for me to figure out about myself, but I am proud to call myself so so gay. 🙂