Community Rainbow Waves

Jocelyn

I guess you could say that I knew I was a member of the LGBQ2IA+ community since I was little. I did not know the word for it then but probably around 5th grade I was highly aware of my sexuality and attraction to both men and women. I kept my sexuality hidden, until 2012 when my sister forced me to tell her. That was the start of my coming out story, It took me a while to tell anyone else after I told my sister even though she took it well. I started off telling some friends through text since they live in different states. They all were accepting and happy for me but I still did not feel comfortable enough to tell the rest of my family or friends. After graduating high school in 2015, I was going to my very first SF pride parade when I decided to tell my parents I was bisexual. The morning of the parade I had written them a letter and had them read it, they were very accepting and told me they already knew. I was extremely nervous even though I have a very open minded family with numerous LGBT+ family members. So even though my journey started in 2012 it did not end in 2015 as I barley told my best friend in 2017, which she too told me she had already thought I was. After that I started to think that I shouldn’t have to tell everyone because it is not a big deal, so since then unless someone asks me directly I don’t make a point to say anything. I just wanted to be myself and not feel like I owed anyone an explanation and that is how I live today. As of now I am happy and comfortable with my sexuality but it was a long journey to get to this point. I still have my ups and downs but I know I have many people in my corner to support me. I hope to whoever reads this that it may help you in some way and you know that there is a whole community out there that will accept you unconditionally.

Missouriraynebowe…I am from Missouri. Raynebowe is a play on words because I was looking for the colorful part of a difficult situation.

My earliest memories of attraction to other females was as early as 3rd grade. I remember this girl, who we shared the same bus ride, the same classroom and our desks were in the same 4 square shape group. She sat diagonal from me. So I could see her from nearly every angle. I remember the teacher standing in the middle of the room, which was directly behind her. I remember trying to pay attention, but getting lost in thought of how her smile and laughter brightened up the room. I remember longing for recess time so we could hang out. We always seemed to be together in everything. Life was so big then. I didn’t know yet, obviously what it meant for me. So I chalked it up to best friends and moved on through life quietly in the shadows of what was societal expectations back then. I was 25 years old when I decided to go to my 1st gay bar. It was out in the sticks, old metal converted barn with a lake, a pool room, dance floor, obviously a bar and bathrooms. It took months for me to actually go in the bar part of the bar. I stayed where the pool tables were and made a friend who worked there and watched from a distance trying to navigate different waters of my life. When I got comfortable, my friend that worked there, took my hand and walked me inside to watch a drag show. WOW was I ever caught up and amazed. I was hooked after that. The lights, the singing, performing. The drag queens were as openly colorful as I felt inside. This week after week helped me come to full terms with my own sexuality. So another friend took me to a small book store downtown, Columbia called The Peace Nook. It was back then a safe haven for anyone who needed to just be. I read books, talked with patrons, the owner. The Peace Nook embraced the power of just being to the very core and to this day, still in the same location, waving it’s rainbow flag and the Peace Nook flag outside of it’s staircase on the street. It still stands for it’s core values. At 30 I met my first serious girlfriend. Fell hopelessly in love. Everything in my world aligned perfectly. But not without some struggles. Then she got sick with cancer 3 years into our relationship. She died in my arms. Needless to say I was broken to the core. I lost myself, traveled the east coast, landed for Florida for 10 years. Made lots of acquaintances. Met someone special that sparked that light that had been dead for so long. We ended up being just good friends, but she helped me bring my colors out again. I have survived cancer that should have killed me, I have had 2 mastectomies, several surgical procedures, through it all…I am better, stronger, more loving, and found my calling. Not only did I go to school for Massage therapy and graduated 2nd in my class. I found myself….again. Through that, I found my own love for life again. I don’t judge, because I have been judged, I don’t preach: I teach, I am strong, because I have been broken to my core. Now I take all of this in my daily life and career working, being a House Manager for individuals with developmental disabilities. I personally prefer to say that my peeps just have different abilities. I help them define and use their skills the best they can. I love so much, but it is no comparison to the love I am given freely everyday of my life. I just hope one day I can be that pure of heart and teach as much as I am taught. I will end on this note. Be a light, be open, be you, above all LOVE.

Asexual/Lesbian

I figured out that i’m gay at 15, but I only recently (i’m 19 now) figured out I am actually asexual and romantically attracted to girls. Im pretty much out as gay to most people and I don’t care if people know, sometimes I wish I could constantly have a sign that says I LIKE WOMEN or a tattoo on my forehead or something because I am proud to be attracted to girls, I am not ashamed.

My asexuality on the other hand I’ve been struggling with. I’ve always had the thought at the back of my head that I might of been asexual but I would just brush it off because I didn’t think you could be asexual and attracted to the same gender and I’m definitely attracted to girls. But with the help of Google I found out it is possible to be asexual and still romantically, aesthetically or sensually attracted to people, including people of the same sex.

I’ve still been having abit of a hard time accepting being asexual, sometimes I feel like I’m broken or that something’s wrong with me. My brain really did a full 180, I’ve never felt like this reguarding my sexuality because I’m not ashamed that I’m attracted to girls but at the same time I’m struggling to accept my asexuality.

I was prepared to keep my asexuality a secret because I was scared of telling people but I ended up telling my best friend about it anyway because I was dying to tell someone and he told me that he is the same, not sexually attracted to anyone but still romantically attracted to the same gender. This made me feel so much better about myself and I’ve now told 2 of my other friends about it who have been nothing but supportive. I’m still scared and technically in the closet but I don’t feel as alone, especially reading Doms and everyone else’s stories on here and I hope soon I will be out and proud of my asexuality like I am with my attraction to girls.

Alycia N.

I knew for quite a while that I had weird feelings for girls that I felt like I shouldn’t be having. In middle school, I was having the hardest time feeling normal. I wasn’t having the same feelings towards boys that all my friends were having, during lunch my friends would talk about all the boys they liked, and I was making stuff up because I didn’t want to seem weird. This made me very depressed because I was unsure what was wrong with me. I would come home and watch ‘Friends’ and I always had a crush on Rachel, but I would just tell myself that every girl thinks other girls are pretty, it’s just being nice right?! Every gay character I seen on television growing up was a background character who rarely came on. High school came around and I became more depressed keeping all of my feelings in, I did not like the person I seen in the mirror. I wanted to cut my hair and wear clothes that I felt more comfortable in. During my junior year of high school, I came out to my close friend who was a boy. After I came out to him, he was very supportive. I started going over to his house a lot, because of this my mother thought I had a crush on him. She would always bring it up that we should date. My mother had gay friends and was a very supportive parent all around but it’s still very overwhelming coming out to your parents. I was lucky to have supportive parents who loved me no matter what because I know a lot of queer kids do not have that. I was still very nervous of coming out, we ended up going to an amusement park and she kept talking to me about my close friend. While we ate lunch at the park, I told her I had to tell her something important, I then proceeded to cry a lot that I couldn’t speak. She guessed “what is it, are you a lesbian?” I shook my head yes, and she then told me that she loved and will always love me no matter who I love. It was nice to have that kind of love and support from someone. After that, she made sure I was comfortable with myself, she let me cut my hair, she bought me a pride flag, I shopped in the boy’s section for clothes. I felt more confident in myself just by having that love and support and I was happy to be in the LGBTQ community. With having that lack of LGBTQ representation growing up, I am so inspired by shows like ‘Wynonna Earp’ and can’t wait to grow my career in the film industry and add more queer representation that I didn’t have growing up. It is such a positive message to see people on a big screen coming out and being authentically themselves because it shows that everyone is valid, and everyone is beautiful. I think start the wave shows so many positive messages to be kind, and be the best you, you can possibly be.

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.

I’m living my true self!

When I was around the age of 8/9 I started to noticing that there was something ‘off’ with me. The girls in my class were talking about boys and I wasn’t interested in that. So I was playing soccer and digging in the dirt with the boys. I wasn’t wearing the cute dresses my twin sister liked to wear. I liked wearing the T-shirts and shorts of my older brother. I remember when my mom would put me in a dress I would literally cry. And when my older sisters started dating boys they would tell me “wait until you’re our age. Then you will start to like boys.” I would just say ” okay” , because I thought I didn’t reached the age yet to start liking boys. But deep down I knew there was something different.
When I was around the age of 10/11 I started noticing girls. I started noticing that I liked them…. A lot. I liked them the way other girls liked boys. And that really confused me. I didn’t know what to do with those feelings so I buried them deep down. I didn’t want to deal with them and I definitely didn’t wanted to talk about them. So when anybody asked me if I had a crush or boyfriend or anything I just said I didn’t had time for it. I was to busy playing soccer and school and everything but ‘a boyfriend.’
I buried those feelings so deep that it really changed me in a not so good way. Specially between the age of 13 and 16. I had anxieties and I was depressed. I didn’t let anyone in. At school I only had 2 close friends and even with them I would hide my feelings. I would hide them by being funny and making jokes. I was being the clown of the class so people would laugh. And if they would laugh I was happy. At least I thought I was. But deep down I was destroying myself. The negative thoughts were overtaking my positive thoughts. I was getting even more anxieties. So I started to hide myself. When I was at home I always was in my room. I didn’t come out until diner. And after I would go back. And obviously my parents started to noticing that there was something wrong. My mom had an idea of what it might would be, but she never asked me. So she started dropping hints. If we were sitting at the dinner table playing a game and everyone was there she would say that it would be okay if one of us was gay. Or if we were sitting in the car on the way to school she would say that everyone is allowed to be who he/she wants to be. And from that moment I knew my parents would be okay with it. But I still wasn’t okay with it and that made me even more confused and angry.
I didn’t talk to anyone until I met this girl at my soccer team. She just joined my team and we immediately had a connection. We were really good friends (still are). she was the first person who I told I was gay. The moment I told her I was super scared. Not because of her reaction, because she’s gay to, but I was scared of myself. Scared of once I told anyone I couldn’t go back. But I did it anyway and I knew she would help me to get trough this. And she did. I could always go to her to talk and let all my feelings out. Because of that I didn’t had as many anxieties as before. But I definitely still didn’t feel 100% myself.
It took me a while to tell other people. To tell my other friends and family. Because I still wasn’t okay with being ‘different’. I cared about what other people would think of me. what they were saying behind my back. And I was sick of being in an environment where everyone knows each other and talks about each other. I wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew me so after I turned 19 I decided to go to Australia for a year. And that was the best decision I’ve ever made. In that year I truly found myself and accepted myself as who I was. I made choices I’d never thought I could’ve made if I stayed in that toxic environment. I made some amazing friends who also helped me to get where I am today. And in that year I told my best friend and one of my older sisters I was gay.
When I came back it still took me a while to tell the rest of my family. But when I moved out of my parents home and was starting a new chapter in my life I knew it was time. So I started with my twin sister. I just Facetimed her and told her and she was like: “okay cool! I’m happy for you! What are you having for dinner?”. Then my parents. I was to scared to tell them to their face even though I knew they would totally be okay with it. So I wrote them a letter. I put it in the mailbox so they would read it the morning after. The next day my mom called me at 5.30 AM to say that they still love me and that they knew all along. I Facetimed my brother and others sister to tell them and they had the same reaction as the rest of the family. Only positive and I couldn’t ask for anything else. I’m lucky enough to have such a supportive family and I’m forever grateful for that.
Now I’m 21 years old and I’m enjoying life by not giving a damn about what other people think. I’m enjoying the people around me by choosing them who have a good influence on me. I make good decisions. I try to be positive every single day. And most importantly, I’m living my true self.

XOXO Lisa

#OutisTheNewIn

Trans masculine

I first questioned things when I was 5, but a negative reaction from my mother led me to suppress my queerness until I was 17. That was when I tried binding my chest for the first time. It was a life changing experience, and over the past 5 years I’ve continued to explore my gender. Now I can confidently say I am a non-binary man, and I am no longer ashamed of it.

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

Becoming Gabe

As someone who spends their time writing and creating stories, I struggle with mine. I’m still figuring this all out, still taking things day by day, but for as long as I can remember, there’s been a part of me that didn’t quite fit with the rest of me. It was like a puzzle piece that was somewhat shoved into a space, even though the edges were too sharp, and the middle was distorted. When I was thirteen, I realized I liked girls and boys. It was terrifying, as I wasn’t exactly raised in the type of household where things like that were easily accepted. So, I came out to my friends at school, but lived a lie outside of it. I had secret girlfriends, secret social media accounts, and I refused to come out to anyone remotely considered family because I was afraid that they would abandon me. (I have abandonment issues, but that’s for a different time and place.) After I “came out” as bisexual, it took about five years for me to drop the ‘bi’ part and accept that I liked women. This was before I understood that bisexuality didn’t have to be fifty-fifty. Regardless, up until the age of twenty-three, I was a regular lesbian. I was what some might consider a ‘stud.’
Now, here’s the hard part. I’ve recently moved away from home, living away from my parents and from old friends, and I’m in an environment where I have no choice but to be honest with myself. This new city and new home literally forced me to be myself, and what I discovered has altered every aspect about my life. So, remember I said I was a lesbian until the age of twenty-three? Well, I turned twenty-three last September, and around that time, I had a massive reality check smack me in the face. I was living a lie. I came out to one person, and it was a complete accident. Sort of. She somewhat pushed me out of the box I was hiding in, and I started the very long road to acknowledging, accepting, and respecting the idea that it wasn’t the sexuality that was wrong. It was the identity. And by that, I mean…
It wasn’t whether I liked girls or boys or everyone in between.
It was the fact I was doing so as a woman.
With that said, to whoever reads this or comes across it, I’m Trans. I identify as a man.
Crazy, right? Saying it, even on a computer, still gives me horrible anxiety because I haven’t crossed that bridge to full acceptance. I’ve only taken small steps, but they’re more freeing than any lie I’ve told myself over the past several years.
There are people who still don’t know, and there are people who know that don’t know how to treat me anymore. Then there are the wonderful people in my life who took it in stride and treat me the exact same. It’s freeing, terrifying, and nauseating all at once. But I wouldn’t change this. Not now. Not after finally finding myself.
I, Gabriel, am a man who likes people, who loves love, and who hopes that this journey will continue to bring me happiness and peace of mind.

Kate

It takes a lot of courage and strength to come out, it really does. It’s not as simple as just blurting it out with a smile on your face. I’m not saying that all of us have had a tough time coming out. Not at all. I’m just speaking on my own personal experience.

Coming out was hard for me. I was 15 years old. Even though I knew my mom would be extremely supportive, I was terrified. Not because of my mom, it was everyone else and the scrutiny that I was going to potentially be under. I had to take a deep breath and just say it, or so I thought. But for the first little while, I went to say it and nothing came out. I was truly terrified to say anything. My anxiety spiked. I was scared. Scared to say anything. Scared that I liked girls because I was told there was something wrong with me and to get help. So, I was scared to speak my truth.

I woke up one morning and thought to myself; “Surely it can’t be as bad as I thought!”. Well, I got up and I told her. I said “mom if I like girls, will you still love me? I like girls.” My mom smiled, hugged me and said simply this….”Katie I am so proud of you!”. I was so relieved and her approval was all I needed. So, I thought I am going to be accepted by everyone!

That’s not the way it went with everyone. I was told I was disgusting, gross, taunted, teased, bullied, told it’s wrong and that I really wasn’t and that I should marry a man. I felt so ashamed of myself.

I told my mom what had happened and that I will never be accepted by anyone. I cried. She told me I wasn’t the only one, hugged me and said we are going to go out. She took me downtown to Pride. There were so many people and couples that were actually happy to be seen together and so many colours. My head was spinning but deep down inside I had never felt more alive!

I am proud of who I am. I am a lesbian. I am into girls. I am my authentic self!