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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Jen

Well, I came out as a lesbian a few months ago, at 28. Looking back I can see how it was always there, but only recently I started being aware of it. I was always looking for signs, for something to happen to make me take that step. Like I would join a sport team, or wear flannel or convince my gay guy friend that we should go to a gay bar for him to meet guys. I guess I wanted someone to hold my hand and guide me across the “line”. But since this is real life and not a scripted b type movie, it never happened, and eventually I just kind of took a metaphorically deep breathe and jumped over myself. And now I’m here, still alone, but true to myself and my surrounding (who all took it very well.I live in a very open and liberal place so this was never a concern and I’m grateful for that) and finally I feel like I’m in the right direction to the life I’m meant live.
Thank you for this opportunity to share. I wish everyone happiness, joy, adventures and love- self love first and every other kind next.
Love,
Me

I am pansexual

Well I came out when I was in 3ed grade so about 9 years old and I dint quite remember haw I told everyone but I remember camping with my older sister and brother who are also bothe gay and twins. We where only 3 years apart roughly and I met this girl that I just gruled over and both hannah and alex where like giving me shit about it bc I was super close to them and we talked about everything anyway we ened up having a cheesy kiss under the slide at the park near the lake and then ran 2 my mom gushing about it and she was like WOW THATS GRATE. Then when we left she said t ok her mom this is my new BOYFRIEND and I was like I’m not a boy and she never spoke to me agen but I naw new that I didn’t cair who new. Naw some advice the bigidt risk in life is never taking any cuz then you will never know. And sorry my spelling sucks.

Kalyani

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND SUICIDE.

There’s a saying in Urdu, “Sitaaron se aagey jahaan aur bhi hai, abhi ishq ke imtehaan aur bhi hai” which means that there are a lot of other worlds beyond the stars other than our own. We still have to face a lot of hurdles on this path of love. And I think that’s exactly how I feel deep in my heart.

My name is Kalyani and I’m from India. I kind of knew I was a lesbian when I was 13. But I was never sure because I always thought a big reason why I wasn’t attracted to boys was because I was sexually abused as a child. So I was confused. I was broken to the point where I completely gave up on life and started using drugs and drinking, hoping that I would somehow magically become “normal” because growing up on India it was always difficult to live my own truth about my sexuality and I wanted to be accepted and loved but I also didn’t want people to judge me for who I was. So I always kept pushing it away and that led to self harm and s*icidal tendencies.
2019 was the definitive year for me. That’s when I decided to take help and started therapy. And it helped me accept myself and love myself. I’m not saying I’ve magically just started appreciating myself but I’m getting there. I’m trying to let go of my past and forgive the people who have hurt me, I’ve reached out to the people I’ve hurt in the process and asked for their forgiveness. I started my food business in 2020 and even though I don’t always make a lot of money, I want to help the Indian LGBTQIA movement on any way I possibly can so that people like us can be heard and accepted and be allowed to live their life without being judged or shamed.

“People fear what they don’t understand, what they fear, they judge as evil, what’s evil, they attempt to control and what they can’t control, they attack”

I realized I was not straight when I was 25. Up until then I was sure that I was straight but hadn’t found the right boy yet. Once I realized I wasn’t straight, my life changed.

I told my friend that I had a crush on that girl and it was driving me nuts. She said I was just overthinking it. Nothing made sense anymore.

Quick background – I come from a deeply religious family and the country that I live in just a few years ago legalized lgbt+ relationships. My friends teased anyone that was different. I just wanted to be normal.

I didn’t want to be different and stand out. I wanted it to go away cuz up until then I had only dated boys. Maybe I thought that if I focused on the boys, I didn’t have to think about girls. I never thought twice on kissing girls on a dare or when I was drunk because I thought it was ok and not weird.

Finally after a lot of reading I realized I was not alone or confused. Coming out stories helped me accept my truth. I said the words – I am bisexual and it’s ok. Accepting it for myself was the biggest challenge. I know I’d be teased and ridiculed and I knew life was only going to get difficult from here. My closest friends became more understanding and became the support system I didn’t know that I required.

Last year I got a tattoo that said “to each his own” in Latin and watercolor. I was always bisexual but didn’t come to terms with it till a human made me look closely at myself and accept me for who I truly was. Without her I might not have been here. I might have never accepted myself for who I was and may have never ever been so clear about any of this.

A Lesbian. Happy to love this world without judgement, full of kindness and unconditional love. Can’t forget the jokes that come with it too

When I graduated high school. I found a girl that made me look at this world differently. She gave me what no other guy would and that’s hope. Hope to believe in loving someone for who they are. It was like a blindfold was taken off my eyes to see the beautiful colors this world had to offer. I had never felt the butterflies in my stomach before or the fireworks when we kissed. It was like I found my sense of peace with every kiss, every touch, every breath. My life started to make sense. My best friend at the time was the first to know and she gave me the support I needed. My mom was suspicious at the time and brought me out to eat lunch one day to muster up the courage to ask “are you dating ‘that’ girl?” My heart dropped… I couldn’t believe those words, I never in a million years would have suspected that my own mother, being the traditionalist she is, to say those words. I just stared in shock and she said “just tell me the truth, yes or no?” My next response was “well kind of”, I couldn’t come up with the courage to say “yes, that is my girlfriend” because of how I was raised. I always remember a time when I was little that we passed a same sex couple and she said “look away, I can’t believe they go out in public.” That’s the scene that always kept replaying in my mind when I saw a girl pass by me and telling myself “you can’t like girls”. She sat me at that restaurant telling me “that girl changed you, if you would have never met her you would still be normal.” To this day I still believe my story was easy compared to most. I’ve heard other people’s story that make me give thanks I had the support I was blessed with. After that day it was like a ripple effect. All my cousins called or texted me with almost the same phrase, “we already knew.” I felt like I was kicked out of the closet at that point because I never got to tell anyone, it was always “we already knew and we love you and support you.” To my relief I was happy I didn’t have to tell anyone, but I still to this day fear telling anyone I’m lesbian. (So my relief backfired big time) My father was the one who didn’t take it so well because he stopped talking to me for three years just to process and take a lot of hate out of his heart. Before me getting pushed out the closet, he would pass a gay couple and yell at them for holding hands or being close to each other. So you can imagine afterwards, he was speechless that his only daughter was a lesbian and wasn’t going to procreate with a man and have children with the white picket fence. My parents were recently divorced at the time and to hear both of them finally agree on making me go to therapy to make me “normal”, broke me down. I haven’t ever been a crier because I have always been an emotional rock for my mom and that day I’m pretty sure I could have filled a swimming pool with my tears. I kept repeating “I don’t know what’s happening but when I’m with her I feel relieved, like I’m whole and I love her.” The look on their faces was just disbelief, never have they seen me cry and be so passionate about someone I loved. I remember we all left quietly because they were speechless. After seven years, I can now say my parents love me and accept me for who I am. We can have conversations about my sexuality (even though the explicit ones are kind of uncomfortable and I try to avoid them) and they are more at peace with it. I can finally express myself through my clothing and I wear my suits proudly. I tried the whole short hair thing and I think long hair is a sexier option for me. Now I speak to everyone and just listen to their opinions whether they be for the community or against us and instead of argue with them, I show them what the truth of it all is by just being myself. So when I do get the courage to tell them I’m lesbian they step back and say “huh, that’s not what I expected” and understand that we’re all human. Doesn’t matter who you love, you are human first of all and that’s all that matters. So live like no one cares, love like no ones watching and laugh as much as possible (p.s. you get years back every time you do so laugh back the years you’ve lost in the closet.) I feel like I wrote you guys a novel but it’s from the bottom of my heart. I hope this story can give at least one person a smile and that this community can help you find your light. Have an awesome day and may you live every day with love and kindness. Thanks for reading my story. See ya

I identify as transgender non-binary and bisexual

When I was around 13, i started to figure out that I wasn’t really straight. Something just felt wrong by saying that I was going to be a beautiful woman who is going to marry a man and have children and all that.
I started doing some researches about it, and I told myself that I was a bisexual woman. I stayed closeted for around a year before coming out to my parents as gay, wich felt more right than “bisexual” since I couldn’t picture myself as a woman dating a man.
So here I was, out and proud. Yet, something still felt wrong. When I was 14, I started watching some FTM transition video. I was so obsessed with those kind of videos, I couldn’t explain why at the beginning. I watched documentaries, tv shows, movies and everything until I realised that I wasn’t a woman either.
But calling myself “a man” was not right. And, as I kept searching, dysphoria started hitting.
Day after day, and without being able to explain why, the way I looked in the mirror felt less and less like me. One day, I found the definition of non-binarity, and it was it.
I am not a woman, but I am not a man either. I am me.
At 15, one month after my birthday, I came out to my parents as genderqueer, and I asked them to change my pronouns and name. Now, I am Charlie, and my pronouns are he/him.
About my sexuality, it as changed a lot with time. From a straight girl, I am now a self-made person who is going to fall in love someday, no matter what gender that person will be.
I am in a constant evolution and today I am proud of who I am.

I identify myself as Bisexual

This coming out was a long and tough journey….. 6 years and it’s not finished yet.
Since I became sexually aware, I think I always had a part of myself that liked girls, in addition to boys, but I was really confused about it.
Because, when I was a young teenager, I thought that there were only two different sexualities: straight or gay. But I didn’t fit in those two sexualities.
So for a couples of years I was in total denial of this part of me that was attracted to girls and I focused on boys only. But I wasn’t happy at all, it’s like a part of me was missing and I wasn’t truly and entirely myself.
And I think that bisexual characters from the series that I watch helped me soooo much to find who I am. Like for example, Calliope Torres from Grey’s anatomy and of course Waverly Earp. They are the two characters who helped me to understand what was happening with me and to accept it.
There was no problem with me, no I am not weird or broken: I am just Bisexual and it’s normal, it’s okay.
It took me a year to accept this and it was a real source of anxiety. At the beginning of high school, I started to have panic attacks about it, I was crying all the time and didn’t sleep at night: because I was scared about judgment, scared to be rejected by my family and friends because I am « different » from them and also because I wasn’t really myself with them and it became more like a burden to keep this part of me hidden.
So I told my best friend first, I burst into tears as if it was bad news or something serious. And the first thing she did: she hugged me really tight and told me that it wasn’t a problem, she’ll love me and support me no matter what. And at this time, I understand I wasn’t supposed to be ashamed about it with my friends.
In senior year, I fell in love with a girl. This girl confessed to me that she’s bisexual and she seemed really open about it, no complex, nothing…. I confessed to her that I was Bi too because for the first time I wasn’t scared to be judged because she was like me. Anyway, we had a really strong connexion and something was happening between us. It kinda pushed me to come out to all of my friends and also my parents (brruuhh, the toughest part).
My friends totally accepted it even if they were disappointed that it took me so long to tell them but I think that I just needed to be fully ready and it was something I had to work on.
Then for my parents, I decided to write a letter because I was not capable of telling them face to face. I put the letter on the stairs before going to school and had written that they raised me with an open mind, communication and understanding. I said that I was into all humans, I don’t care about gender, I just want to love freely so I identify myself as Bisexual but I hadn’t changed. I was, I am and I always will be the same person.
Their first reaction: they didn’t reject me and they still loved me: yay
But then I had to talk about this letter. And guess what? They didn’t believe me…And I started to doubt myself…again, and all my confidence collapsed.
During this time of doubt, I really found myself in music. It was a way to escape and forget all my fears. I started writing songs and playing different instruments. And music became my best friend, a part of me and it saved me.
A couple of months later I went to my first pride and I think it was one of the most beautiful day of my life. I felt like I was at the right place, where I felt myself, truly and entirely, for the first time ever and GOSH it was so good and liberating. Everyone was so incredible, open minded and supportive. This day I saw my true colors and I saw that those colors were beautiful. I think this day changed my life forever because I finally found this wonderful community and I made friends and I didn’t felt lonely anymore. It helps me so much to accept myself and be less scared of judgment.
Today, two years later, my parents still didn’t believe me and still think that you can only be gay or straight, and don’t understand all the different sexualities in the middle. So they still don’t accept me yet. My father seems more open minded than my mother on that. It’s been really difficult with my mother because she is full of prejudices. So we have had kind of a hard time but I know that someday they’ll accept it and I know that it can take a long long time, but i’ll try to be patient.
My brothers and my cousins were really open minded about it and accepted me immediately.
And,for the rest of my family, I am not out and I don’t know if I will be one day because both sides of my family have strong religious principles from two different religions and I don’t know how they will react, so I am not ready.
Oh and recently, I learned that the international day of Bisexuality is on the 23rd of September and guess what? It’s my birthday! Coincidence? I don’t think so.
I think that each coming out story is unique, because everyone is unique in their own way and have their own story and each story is as beautiful as the others.
No matter what we’ve been through, no matter who we love and whether we’re out or not: LOVE IS LOVE. You’re valid, you’re not alone, you’re beautiful just the way you are. Show your true colors and you’ll shine brighter than the sun.
« Your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow ».

A Bisexual unicorn – 20 years 🙂

I always knew that I was not like other girls, from the age of 8 when I liked my best friend. Nothing else happened until the years passed, at the age of 14 I was experiencing my sexuality, with fear and alone. One day I bravely told my mother, that I liked girls, she was so angry and forbade me from seeing my friends and took me to the psychologist. My soul was broken knowing that she was never going to accept me, it was a difficult time, when I was 16 I stopped going to the psychologist and spoke with my most close friends, who thanks to heaven, supported me and never left me alone. It took time but now I accept myself as I am, a woman who likes women and men. I am 20 years old right now, I wonder if someday I will be able to be happy, if I will be able to be myself with my family that is so homophobic, I would like to be who I am 24/7 and not just with my friends. I wish that the world was not so cruel with its labels and that my family accepts me, me, who only wants to love and be loved.

Bisexual

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

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK