Community Rainbow Waves

FtM Trans Guy

When I was 5 I started realising I didn’t really fit in with the girls who I was forced into groups with. I was more interested in playing football than dancing and I had a significant amount more friends who were boys than friends who were girls. The boys saw me as one of them and if someone said that I couldn’t do anything because I’m “a girl” they would defend me and say that I’m different. They were right, I am different.

I’m different but my differences make me unique. My gender dysphoria went unnoticed to me until I was 10, around the same time I started puberty. I started hating the body I was in and wished I could be more like the boys who I played football with. My gender dysphoria was manageable until I was 15.

As soon as I turned 15 I had reached my breaking point. I began researching what this awful feeling of hatred I had towards my body was and almost every article I read and every video I watched told me it was the same thing: gender dysphoria. After that I did more research and discovered what it means to be transgender. I came to the conclusion that I’m trans and that I should probably create a list of names for myself to try out.

By January 2017 I decided to tell my friends about my identity and my new name. At that point, I was identifying as non-binary. One friend knew about what it means to be non-binary so was incredibly supportive and the rest of my friends just wanted what was best for me. They used my new name and my preferred pronouns and it was going really well until a few months later when I realised that I’m actually FtM (female to male) transgender.

After I told people I was changing my preferred name again and was using new pronouns some people stopped talking to me which made me feel even more hatred towards myself. I soon discovered that coming out as trans in a Catholic school was a terrible idea (well for me at least). Someone who had stopped talking to me because of my new identity told one of my bullies about my identity and it caused his bullying to escalate. I soon began regretting coming out.

One day during our biology lesson we were talking about reproduction and my bully asked how same sex couples reproduce. I answered him in a clear and concise way that same sex couples can use IVF or surrogacy in order to reproduce. At this point he turned around and said “oh, is that how you trans freaks do it to?” before pushing a desk towards me causing me to be trapped between two desks. My teacher ran over to help and asked him to leave the classroom immediately. I was ushered off with some of my friends to go sit in an empty art classroom whilst we were waiting for the school nurse to come and check me over. Luckily I was only bruised and nothing worse had happened. He was suspended for two weeks for bullying and inappropriate conduct (apparently it would have been much longer if I’d have actually admitted to being trans but at that point I was too scared to come out to teachers).

Flash forward to now (September 2020) and I’m about to start my second year of university. I still haven’t come out to my parents but I’m getting there. My online friends help a lot with reassuring me that I’ve always got a chosen family and that I look masculine enough. I’m now at ease with my labels of transgender and pansexual (an identity discovery I made only a few months ago).

My Name is Tracy, and I am me

It is only when I look back that things really become clear. For example, it is obvious now why I had a crush on my P.E teacher (but then who didn’t!). But at the time I was just a confused teenager trying to make sense of all that I was feeling. I guess that is the same for everybody when they first become aware of themselves as sexual beings, regardless of their sexuality. I don’t know how old I was, I’m guessing around 15? There was a Lesbian couple living opposite my family home, and I remember asking myself if I was like them, but then thinking that even if I was, I wouldn’t know what to do about it. This was the early 1980s, and things were not socially like they are now.
I left school in 1984 at the age of 17, got a job, and was happy just being me. I had no desire to meet anybody but I was aware that getting a boyfriend was the next thing on the list of things that were expected of me by society. I must add here that no pressure came from my family. So I conformed, and had a couple of boyfriends over the next couple of years. Looking back I actually feel sorry for them, they clearly wanted more than I was willing to give. Subconsciously I would never put myself in a position with them where things could progress physically. To me, they were friends who just happen to be male – end of. That’s why they never stuck around long I’m guessing.
Then in 1987 I started my Nurse training in the NHS. Six months into my course and my path crossed with another student who was to become my first girlfriend. We started out as friends. I knew she was gay, she never hid it. But I still wasn’t out, even to myself. Over time though the penny finally dropped and we got closer and closer. She would go on to say that she was just waiting for me to realise for myself, she apparently knew already.
That was when I started living the double life that will be familiar to a lot of people reading this. Luckily I was living at the hospital in student accommodation. It certainly made it easier, but hiding this part of me from my family didn’t feel right. My girlfriend, even though 7 years older than me, was also not out to her parents, which in a way made it easier for me to take the easy way out and keep my sexuality hidden from everyone but her.
Around the same time, when my world was rapidly changing around me, my sister passed way from Leukaemia. She was 36 years old and had only been ill for a few months before she died. My Father had died a couple years before this, and then for my sister to die….. I don’t know how my Mother and family (I am the youngest of 5 children) got through it, but we did. As for me, I didn’t want to add to the mix by coming out, so I stayed very firmly in. I can’t in all honesty say that had my sister not died I would have come out because I don’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for me to take the easy way out.
Life settled down, and I was happy, but still living a double life. I kind of found it exciting in the beginning, but as I got older, it became tiring. My girlfriend was accepted into my family, as I was into hers, but nothing was ever said. The more time that passed the harder it got to think about coming out. As it turns out, our families had guessed anyway and were happy for us. They were just waiting for us to say something. We didn’t know this at the time however.
In 2000 the unimaginable happened. My Mother passed away. And for me, devastated as I was I knew the time had come, there was no more procrastinating, I had to come out to my brothers and sister. I was 33 years old, and my girlfriend and I had been together for years. Even then, the thing that made my mind up once and for all, was that I wanted my girlfriend to travel in the funeral car with the husband and wives of my siblings. I remember the exact moment. The others were downstairs in my mother’s house and my girlfriend and I were upstairs talking. My sister-in-law then came and joined us. We chatted about other things to start, then I simply said that my girlfriend and I were a couple, and that I wanted her to travel in the family car behind my mother’s coffin.
That was it. I was out. The relief was immense, but mixed with nerves and grief for my mother. All my Sister-in-law said was “Well about damn time” and hugged me, before going back downstairs where she was of course going to tell the others.
A short time later my girlfriend and I also went downstairs. All my family were in the garden, and when I stepped out there to join them I was mobbed. I found myself in the middle of a huge group hug filled with love and reassurance. It was such a surreal time, grief for my mother, together with the relief of coming out and being accepted by my family.
There was only one negative. After the funeral, my sister’s husband came up to me. I had only seen him a couple of times since my sister passed away a few years earlier, and he said something along the lines of “There’s my perverted sister-in-law”. I’m not sure if he was serious or if he thought he was being funny, either way it wasn’t the time or the place, and he was dragged away by one of my brothers and told to go home.
And that is my coming out story.
The relationship I was in then came to an end after just over 17 years together. However, I am now married to an amazing woman, my real soulmate, we’ve been together for 11 years. I sometimes think my family like her more than me.
I am now 53 years old and I only have two regrets in life. The first is that I never allowed my dear Mum to know the real me, because I was scared to come out to her, and the second is that my Wife never met her. Or my Sister. Or my Brother who also died from Leukaemia 14 years ago.
Apart from that, life is wonderful.
Thank you for listening.

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.

Lesbian

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

Katy/Polyamorous Lesbian

To me, it seems like there are two stages to coming out: coming out to yourself and coming out to others. I was 13 when I thought I might be bi, 15 when I admitted to myself (after two years of self-flagellation) that I was a lesbian, and 16 when I came out to others. But it wasn’t until I was 20 that I could really call myself proud, or at least self-accepting. It was a long, rough journey, but definitely worthwhile.

I think it was that journey and maturity that made realizing I was polyamorous so much easier:

Me: “I like her…but I also like her…and it’s not that I like one more than the other…it’s that they’re equal, but different…”
My Brain: “Polyamory is a thing.”
Me: “…Huh.”
And that was that.

As much as people joke about gaydar, we do know our own. I’m lucky enough to know a lot of people who are out and proud, but every so often I meet someone who makes me think “this person is out to themselves, and they’ve accepted it, but they’re not quite ready to share it with the world yet.” And you know what? That’s ok. Coming out is a process, and it takes as long as it needs to. Coming out to myself and truly accepting my sexuality was the hardest part, but also the most rewarding. So whatever you feel and whomever you love, be honest and out to YOURSELF first and foremost. The rest will come in time.

And know that when you are ready to come out to others, you’ve got a rainbow of people ready to lift you up.

Power in knowledge

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

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

I am queer

I would have to say I knew I was queer when I was about 12. I found my self having a crush on my teacher. I’ve always found my self attracted to women and men, not just one gender.
Growing up in a time where it was told to be wrong. The it is ingrained in to you that you are breaking the law or that your going to hell for who you really are. Makes you afraid of what may happen if the world knows. Weather or not your going to be judged and disowned by the people you love and mean the most to you.
I went what feels like a life time lying to myself and others of who I really am. But one day I came to the point that I was done lying to myself. I don’t want to be who everyone else wants me to be I wanted to be me the true and real me. I wanted to live who ever the he’ll I wanted and not care about what others thought about me.

I came out when I was a senior in high school when I got my first girl friend. I told my dad and he was ok, he did really have a reaction at all. I was worried about telling my mother because she is my best friend and the person I looked up to the most. I feared that she would hate me and not understand me. Ao little did I know she was proud of me. She said she just wanted me to be happy and be me. I built up all this fear for who I really am when I had nothing to fear. I am grateful that I have two parents that love me and except me for me.

I know now that you can’t live in fear. Be who you are and what you want to be with everything thing that you have. Never let anyone bring you down or tell you that you can’t be you. Love who you want no matter the gender, identity, race or what ever it maybe. Be and do what make your heart sparkle. out and proud love is love!

Living freely with all my colours

I started to Wonder about my sexuality at around 13 years old, I had always thought that everyone was very attractive? Like everyone whether it was male, female or non-binary i never really cared as long as I liked them.

But at 13 I didn’t know what pansexuality was soo I just thought I was bisexual?

I tried to hide it until I was 16, between 13 and 16 I had been with one girl and was starting to see a non-binary person.

I was so tried of hiding myself from my parents but the thing is that I was SO scared.

I wanted to come out so bad to finally be free and myself, and here in Switzerland they’re pretty nice with the LGBTQ+ community but my family is italian and from where they are it’s not that acceptable..

One day I took my chances and wrote a letter that i left on my mother’s desk and went to school.

At the end of a science class I remember being so nervous to check my phone, but when I did I saw that I had a text from my dad and one from my mom.

I opened them after a little freaking out and they just said that they didnt care and would love me no matter what, and that I’ll always be their babygirl.

And what do you know, today when my mom sees something rainbow she takes a picture and sends it to me which I find very cute.

On the 13th april 2020 it will be my coming out one year anniversary and wow.

Life is so much happier when you’re authentic to yourself.

I am very thankful to be in a very accepting space, whether it’s ALL my friends or my family, I know I am very lucky.

I am so thankful to be able to live the life I live and love who I want to love. But i probably wouldn’t have had the strength of coming out if i had not seen such good LGBT representation, like Waverly and Nicole and others..

I am out and free and I wish you all, reading this, to be happy and don’t forget that you do not owe anyone a coming out. Only do it if you feel like you are safe.

Take care of yourself. I’m proud of you.

I had been holding my breath for so long, and I needed to exhale at one point or another, or I would explode from holding it in.

I’ve had crushes on girls for as long as I can remember. Never made much of it, figured it was “normal”. Thought maybe it was just because I admired them and wanted to be them, or that it was a typical part of growing up.

In high school, I had crushes on boys and girls. I didn’t know much about anything back then, so I figured it was just a phase and one side would fade and disappear over time. That I was just figuring myself out and, one day, one side would win.
Since all I knew that existed was either gay or straight, it had to be one or the other, right?

I always hoped I would end up being only into boys, so that I could be “normal”. I wanted to be normal more than anything in this world.
My whole life, I had never fit in at all. With anyone, or anywhere. So I needed to at least be “normal” for one freaking thing, you know what I mean?

But then in college… I mean, classic story I guess, I fell for my straight female best friend. It didn’t go anywhere, but because at the time the only representation of bisexuality was the toxic version I had seen in the media, as well as the horrible things people would say about bisexuals, I decided to bury my attraction to guys.
I could NOT be bi… I’d rather be gay than bi. The examples I had seen were evil and toxic, and I just couldn’t be like them. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Never. Nope.

So I did everything I could to bury that side of me.
I would be so mean to myself.
…Fear and shame can make you think terrible words and do terrible things.

After a while, still in college, I ended up coming out as a lesbian. I hoped that by saying it, it would make it real. That it would erase the other part I didn’t want to think about.
I came out online to my classmates, after testing the waters for a while, trying to see if they would be accepting or not.

It was mostly fine. The more religious ones would often remind me that I would be going to hell for it, but apart from that it was great and the guys invited me to hang out with them. That was fun 🙂

Some time later, I came out to my parents through a letter I left in a place I knew they’d see it.

I was absolutely terrified they would kick me out.

The thing is… I come from a really judgmental family. My mum is very religious, but I’ve also heard a lot of racist and homophobic things growing up. And that’s just a tiny part of the range of judging comments I’ve heard all my life.

I’ve never been close to my family.
Discussions have never been a thing.
Disagreements mean either silence or terrible fights. Or both.

So I had no idea how that would turn out, but I felt like I needed to do it, if only to stop hearing “when are you gonna get a boyfriend?” that always tore me up inside.

I couldn’t breathe. I had been holding my breath for so long, and I needed to exhale at one point or another, or I would explode from holding it in.

Fortunately, in the end it was okay. I mean, at least they didn’t kick me out.

The “conversation” lasted for about 2 minutes, max, and then we never spoke about it again. (Except for the “maybe it’s just a phase” that I got a few times over the early years.)

That was around… 2004 I think?

Then once, in a birthday message a few years ago, my mum mentioned that she hoped I would find a woman I could be happy with. But that’s pretty much it. (And even today, I still hear homophobic things sometimes when I visit, if there’s something on TV about our beautiful community.)

Some time after I came out to my parents, I came out by email to most of my extended family. Again, I’ve never been close to anyone, and it’s always been easier for me to write than speak, so that’s how I chose to do it.
As far as I know, they’re all accepting. The ones I’ve told, anyway. But for other reasons, I stopped seeing them around that time, so who knows, really.

But to this day, except my godmother who I told recently when the topic came up, they all still think I’m gay.
Since emotionally I’ve only fallen for women, I didn’t want my parents to start hoping I would end up with a man when I don’t see it ever happening.

I mean, I’m pansexual, so I could end up with anyone I connect with no matter their gender, but… I’ve fallen for 3 women so far. No one else.

When I find “the one”, I want to finally feel safe using my chosen label. But until then, I feel safer just not talking about it around my parents.

But speaking of pansexuality… At some point I decided that no matter what society thought about bisexuality, I was only hurting myself by trying to fight who I was.
And then I heard about pansexuality, and it was the first label that I really connected with. The definition made so much sense to me, and it just felt right.

The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. Falling for someone’s soul, regardless of their gender, regardless of their genitalia, made all the sense in the world to me.
And by learning about the different labels, by finding great people who identified as them, I started to really accept myself and eventually started to love this part of me.

I mean… I’m just me, you know? 🙂

I’m also out in my workplace now. Took me years and for an openly gay man to be hired for me to feel safe enough to do it, but it’s done. Haven’t had any problems so far.

And I want to believe that I would also be open if I ever got a different job.

I can’t go back to hiding. I need to breathe.
Now that I know how great and freeing it feels to have air moving through my lungs, I don’t want to hide this huge part of who I am.

And today, well… I’m just fighting for better representation. And for bisexuality and pansexuality to be seen in a better light (and to be seen, period), so that the next generations don’t have to feel all the shame I’ve felt back when I was still figuring it out.

Labels or no labels, people should have access to amazing examples of every shade of our beautiful and colourful rainbow, so they can find a place to fit in somewhere along the way.

I’m convinced that love is stronger than everything else, so… I do believe that one day love will truly win.

And what a world this will be. x