Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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I don’t identify, I’m just me.

I’ve always known I was part of the community, I’ve always thought other girls were pretty and that eventually I’d fall for one and that’d be it. What was shocking to me was that it wasn’t common to feel this way. At a very young age I’d thought, “But girls are so pretty! How can you not like girls?” I never felt a need to come out, I came home one day and said “Mom, I have a girlfriend!” I could tell she was surprised but she was calm and hugged me and told me how proud of me she was. Our community can be such an accepting place, that’s one of my favourite things about it. I’m still very young, I don’t exactly have very many years on me, but I’ve always known who I am and what I want.

Pansexual

When I was younger, I never really thought about my sexuality. I kind of had no interest in dating anyone of any gender. I was somewhat immature and a bit socially awkward, so it wasn’t like anyone was lining up to go out with me. I always admired beautiful women, but never thought anything of it. Looking back on it now, I probably should’ve figured it out a long time ago, but hindsight is always 20/20.
I didn’t start to think anything about my sexuality until my roommate pushed me into joining Tinder shortly after my 25th birthday. I went on a couple dates with guys, but nothing really stuck. About a month after I started on Tinder, my aunt made a comment that changed everything: if you and (female roommate) were lesbians, you two would be all set! That kind of opened my eyes to the fact that maybe I liked girls too.
This is where my story gets to be a little cliche. I started developing feelings for my (straight) roommate. I didn’t tell anyone for almost a month, because I wasn’t ready to tell her how I felt. On St. Patrick’s Day on the way home from a night out, the topic of girl crushes came up. Drunk me figured that if I didn’t tell her now, I wouldn’t tell her at all.
So, with the help of some liquid courage, I came out to her. She was incredibly understanding of it, and was proud of me for telling her. I knew nothing would ever happen between us, but felt that she had the right to know.
I starting coming out to my close friends, and but still had some questions. Do I really like girls too, or just her? Here’s where my story gets even more cliche. I went to see the musical Rent, and when red-headed Maureen came out in her leather pants, I was sold!
That night, I came out to my mom. She didn’t want to believe it, and told me it was just a phase and kind of brushed it off. I knew she would be supportive no matter what, but it still kind of hurt that she didn’t accept it right away. I came out to the rest of my family, other than my dad, at Thanksgiving that year.
It wasn’t until I moved to Key West and got my first girlfriend that I really began to own my sexuality. I’m no longer afraid to tell people, and am trying hard not to care what people think about it. The past 2 years have been an amazing journey, and I am so thankful to the people who have helped me along the way. #outisthenewin

I’m Emma and a proud young gay woman.

To be honest I never thought of sending in my story purely because I feel as though it’s boring but then I figured, we all have a story and they are all beautiful and unique to us, so why not tell it?
There were definitely many hints from a very early age that I was queer. Since primary school I was always very shy and awkward around girls and found it easier to be friends with boys and became quite confused when around my own gender, like there was something “off” about me when I was around them. In turn I ended up trying to become more like a “boy”. I dressed in “boy” clothes and joined in with the “boy” activities and subsequently started questioning if what was “off” about me was that I just wanted to be a boy.
This went on for a fair few years until secondary school where I realised I was actually happy being a girl but still not feeling comfortable around them or just having feelings when around them that I couldn’t understand.
Later on in secondary school I had a friend who came out as bisexual and as a lot of things in schools, that news travelled fast and many people were judgemental. To this day I remember the pit in my stomach I would feel every time I heard someone make a hurtful remark regarding it. Looking back, I think hearing those kinds of things held me back from discovering who I was. I became fearful of having anything to do with the LGBTQ+ community and so I stopped questioning anything to do with me and how I felt around girls. I tried to find boys that I thought were cute and wouldn’t mind dating because that’s what was “normal” and what no one else frowned upon or judged but it just never felt right to me. I remember thinking that this can’t be what love feels like. Surely it doesn’t feel so forced. But still not allowing myself to open up to any ideas of me being anything other than straight. Until a while later after I had graduated from school.
I was 17 and found myself amongst many LGBTQ+ people online and even made a couple friends who were gay and one day one these friends questioned me about if I was sure I was straight and I’ll never forget that pit returning to my stomach and my face feeling so hot and telling her that I wasn’t sure at all. That was the beginning of it for me, I started letting myself question and ponder the idea of me not being straight and from then it was very quick that I realised I wasn’t and that all of these feelings of being uncomfortable around girls was because I liked girls and I felt like that was wrong so I felt uncomfortable being near them and I thought about wanting to be a boy because boys could date girls, that’s how we were told it’s meant to be. All of these things suddenly made so much more sense! It was both relieving and terrifying! I was gay. I now knew that but where do I go from here?
For the next few years I just continued living a straight life in person and an out life online and that was fine for a while until I felt like my real life was fake, not even just with my sexuality but my hobbies, my interests, everything was hidden from those physically around me and with already being a highly anxious person, being myself only online was just making me more and more anxious and so I confided in my closest friend and they were so supportive and didn’t judge at all! That was a turning point for me, I felt like I could do this. I can be gay and it can be okay. However, I still felt a bit ashamed of it or a bit like things would be easier if I was straight. Until I was about 19 and a beautiful scene from this show called Wynonna Earp (don’t know if any of you have ever heard of that before?) popped up on my feed one day and I clicked on it and was introduced to Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp. It was Nicole that caught my attention at first, I was so drawn to this strong woman who was gay and so
completely owned it and she wasn’t defined by that At All! It was her that helped me accept my sexuality completely and decide I want to be like her! I want own this part of me and know that I am so many more things than just “a gay person”.
And then a few years down the line the beautiful actresses who play Nicole & Waverly come out as part of LQBTQ+ community and I felt so much joy it was unreal, it’s hard to describe exactly how I felt but the word “safe” is what comes to mind, I felt safe and at ease and through learning more about them off screen and hearing about their journeys, in all aspects has been the biggest gift, I could never thank them enough for all that they have shown and taught me because now I am 23 and exploring all aspects of myself and being my authentic self more and more everyday and finding my authentic self more and more everyday. I don’t hide my sexuality. I’m not ashamed. I love love, in all of the ways it shows itself.

Bisexual

To be honest, I think that in my entire life I’ve been attracted to boys and girls but I didn’t knew that was a thing, I even thought that was normal. While growing up I was forcing myself to only like boys because “that’s what normal girls do” but for me it didn’t feel right. In 2018 I started to like a girl in my class, I didn’t want to but I couldn’t help it, then I confessed myself to her and she didn’t feel the same but she was supporting me. Then I came out in social media and that’s how my mom found out that I was bisexual. She was mad at me, she thought that I was confused but in reality I’m not because I really like girls and boys and that’s who I am. Now in 2020 my mom still thinks I’m confused but my friends accept me as a bisexual girl. And that’s my story. I am OUT.

A path of freedom

Hello everyone and thank you to Start the Wave for this wonderful initiative of testimonies. I wish to write this part of my journey in French by will of plurilingualism and to keep the soul of the content that I share with you today. I hope that this will be welcomed and accepted, and I thank you warmly in advance.

Discovering myself as a lesbian in the 2000s in Switzerland was not easy for me. I realized that I was different from others when I was 11-12 years old. I was insecure, lonely and isolated, and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t happy and full of life like everyone else my age. Something was wrong with me and it was impossible for me to fit in and feel comfortable with others because of the role I had to play to meet the social expectations of people my age at that time.

The realization of my homosexuality came one day when I decided not to go to school and pretend to be sick. That day, I finally understood the reasons for my discomfort. That moment was a real mental slap in the face. I didn’t expect it at all. I was watching television and came across a movie about a love story between two teenage girls. This movie shook me up, not because of the story, but because of what it awakened and enlightened in me. It made me realize that I was gay, that it was because of that that I felt so bad. Unfortunately for me at that time, I could not accept it and so I repressed these thoughts and desires deep inside me, which led me to isolate myself even more. It was impossible for me to accept that I was different. So I stayed that way for a few more years until I decided to become interested in the LBGTQ2IA+ world, but I didn’t dare to join it. Not having any “real” role models in my life, I had to discover this world in a virtual way, through series (thanks Buffy), movies and websites. This helped me, but not enough because I had no one to talk to, no one who could listen to me and accept my discomfort by making me understand that what I was going through was indeed complicated and difficult, but that it was perfectly normal, that I was perfectly normal. It is with time, patience and love towards myself that I finally managed to accept my difference.

It took me more than 10 years and several relationships to accept that being different is an absolutely wonderful thing. My coming-out happened slowly, in a discreet way, with the people who were dear to me at the time. However, it was at the age of 30 that I finally dared to say who I was and who I loved. I finally succeeded in sharing my difference, without any discomfort or uneasiness coming near me. My definition of myself became normal. I became proud and free.

It is thanks to the difficulties I experienced as a teenager that I was able to build myself and be who I am today. The difference is a sign of diversity, multiplicity and richness. It is the difference that makes the world so magical, so surprising and wonderful. Let us be different and assume our differences.

I am human and I love every living being on this Earth. Joy and happiness radiate from me every time I realize how lucky I am to share my short existence with such inspiring, grateful and living beings. Thank you to each of them for pushing me to be more myself, in coherence with my convictions and values and thank you to you for helping me to accept and respect others. Be yourself and love yourself. Thank you to Start the Wave for this wonderful project of liberation. Thank you to the Universe.

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

I knew I was a lesbian when I was 12 but coming from a big Irish catholic family. I felt that I had to hide that part of me from everyone for so long and as Dom said, it can cause other problems trying to fit into the “normal” way of life and suppressing those feeling and that was VERY VERY hard. I finally came out to all when I was 35 now I am married to a wonderful woman and we have been together 19 wonderful years. There is never a right or wrong time to come out. I wish I did it a lot earlier, it wasnt until my mum was dying of cancer that she said to me and my wife on a visit “Oh I always knew you were gay” That was my mum all over, I think mothers have a sixth sence with their children. Wanted to say that Dom is an inspiration to all young and older queer people. Her brave statement shows to people you are never alone and even if you are, you WILL find your place and be happy to just be you. Xx

Label-less she/her, living down under

Hello !!!!! I’m not one for labels , but what is fitting is transgender bisexual. I had my bisexual realization early on, I was in kindergarden and kissed a girl on the I think looking back at it now at age, you somewhat know that you might have an inkling that something was different, for me I grew up in a family being one of 5 kids and the youngest all i knew was same sex relationships.

The first person I kissed was a guy I was 15, I thought hmm maybe the fact it was a horrible first kiss that this was the reason i wasn’t feeling it (it was a horrible kiss) but that didn’t stop me I tried and tried so many times throughout my high school years even with a boyfriend which didn’t last long (poor guy properly thought he turned me) It seemed the more I tried the more it became just a routine kiss a guy no strings attached. Never feeling that internal I can’t live without this person in my life.

Jumped to the age of 19, To the first girl I kissed. I had a friend shall we call her (trial and error) I had known her since I was 12 & We all found out that she was with another girl, yes the 1st person i actually knew that was gay. I found myself being intrigued and I can’t remember to this day 100% but I think I ended up messaging her on chat (When all the chat rooms were all the rage) and asking her questions.. the questions lead to us talking a lot and hanging out a fair bit. Then we decided to go for a drive one night, we drove for hours till she pulled up to a street that had a area just to the side of the road we got out did the normal thing joked around each other, then her face turned serious her eyes looked onto mine & she just kissed me.

i still remember that feeling, that feeling that i had been wanting for all those years. That warmth and butterfly that just hit you all at once, like instantly. All the dots started to connect & things like my obsession to watch Joan of arc just for Leelee Sobieski & wanting to always hang with certain girl “friends” all start to made sense.

The issue in all this though was the girl that i had kissed also had a big mouth.. everyone I knew had found out not by me but by her. At first i was worried that it would change how my best friends would perceive me, how they would treat me. I was petrified that it would some how change the way they interacted with me.

The only person I actually ever told directly was my mum, she didn’t talk to me for days which seemed like years when you drop a bombshell that they never see coming. Don’t get me wrong my mum is the biggest supporter of my life choices now but it did take a while for her to understand and accept.

After many years of heartbreak from falling for the wrong people and some in your 20’s crazy choices, some good some bad I find myself in a relationship now for the past 6 years with a women. Im out to everyone in my personal life but not but still in my work life, maybe one day I will brave enough within myself to be able to live my true self in whatever form that may be across all aspects of my life. One thing I do know is, never feel guilty for making your happiness come first, never be sorry for being exactly who you were born to be. Im a 36 year old in finance from Sydney, Aus & Love has no labels and either do i.playground. My transgender one, however , came later in my life, around the time of middle school. I wasn’t feeling comfortable in my body, around my friends and family, or even whenever no one was around. I wasn’t happy anymore. I looked in the mirror, closed my eyes, and asked myself what would make me happy. I saw myself as a boy. And that surprised me. I talked to a friend, and they told me about the term transgender. That is when I figured out who I was.
Now I didn’t really have the chance to come out much. I only came out to a few people, but then the news spread like wildfire. My friends at my school were all accepting of me, some of them wished I told them myself, others were glad they new. But then it got to my parents, and they didn’t accept me at all. It was rough. Everyday I would cry just wanting my home life to be better. I almost took my own life. But then I found a “secret gay club” at my school. A bunch of lgbtq+ people came together after school on Friday’s to talk about their problems their stories and even just how they were feeling that day. I found a home there (even though I only went to about 3 meetings). They helped me learn to accept myself for who I am, labels or not.
Now it has been about 3 years since I have come out. Things have gone up and down but are gradually getting better. I have had a few people who have supported me throughout, and I couldn’t be more grateful. My home life is slowly but surely getting better, and even if it doesn’t I still have a few people who love me for who I am.
For anyone struggling to figure out who they are, finding what labels works for them, or are struggling with acceptance from themselves or others, THINGS GET BETTER !!! I PROMISE THEY DO !!! You have your whole life to figure out who you are. You don’t have to have a label if you don’t want to, you can just be you. Overtime, you will find acceptance. Whether it’s through someone you meet, people warming up to the idea of who you are, or even through sites like this, there will always be a community that will accept you. You just have to breathe, give it time, and never give up on yourself.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.

Blood & Water

Growing up I had an open relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. My mom was a very good listener and had a gift for making her home a safe place for kids. I have distinct memories of my best friends, going through rough times (either life-altering crisis…or in hindsight not so serious teenage dramatics) coming over to feel “heard.” She’d listen and understand and when she’d leave after hugging us goodnight my friends would often say something like “I wish my mom and I could talk that way.”

Fast forward to the summer of my senior year in college. At the time I was in a 2-year relationship with a beautifully kind guy my family, and heck myself thought I’d marry soon after graduating. I was taking a summer course and decided to live in the dorms with one of my best college friends and teammate, “Bell.” (for purposes of this story) Her best friend/partner, now spouse, was bunked up with a girl that would end up playing a pretty big role in my coming out story. “Bell” was pretty involved in the LGBTQ community as her partner had at that time recently come out as trans. By then they had fought through most of what would be their uphill battle as an LGBTQ couple at a very Catholic school. This context is important because by that summer I had introduced them to my mom. She was kind and treated them like any other person I cared about. This little detail will throw me for a loop later…

One summer night a group of us decided to go to a Gay club. It wasn’t my first time going, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say some part of me knew something was going to happen. The night ended with me kissing the girl I mentioned and making the conscious decision to see what sleeping with her felt like. My understanding of my sexuality at that time was that I enjoyed having sex with men, I loved a few along the way…and if I ever found myself being attracted to women, I’d simply add them to the list of people I was also into. I’d say I had a very matter of fact feeling about my sexuality. Love is Love… and I’m straight.

My mom called the next morning and I answered, “Hi, I’m hungover as hell and a girl kissed me last night.” I remember her laughing and asking if I was going to tell my boyfriend. The conversation went on and now that I’ve since been to therapy (which rocks btw) I can clearly remember the sound of how casually I lied to my mom. The truth was that I was interested in this girl since summer started, I leaned in first, she leaned in back, we kissed, and I made the mental call to go home with her that night. I realized I was slightly full of shit when it came to honesty. With others…and myself. Sure, I kissed girls in High School on “dares,” but never admitted I liked it and maybe… (not so maybe) put myself in a position to take those particular dares on purpose. I told myself, my parents, and friends what made sense about boyfriends I genuinely loved as people, but possibly never really liked as partners.

All in all, the open relationship I thought I had with my parents wasn’t so open. And that was on me. However, the fears that kept me from being honest then and now (still healing) were realized when I broke things off with my boyfriend and called my mom to tell her I was, “pursuing a relationship with the girl” I had told her about. She screamed, my parents cried, they cancelled my phone plan, closed my bank account, sicced my very Mexican very old school grandma on me, and of course, “cursed the day they spent 6 figures sending me to a Catholic school to become a lesbian,” etc. I laugh at this all now (again… thank you therapy) because it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to start “adulting,” but I’d be remiss to say it didn’t crush me. A. because I was surprised, they reacted the way they did given how open they had been with my friends and their experiences. (Although clearly my subconscious was on to something lol) B. I began to associate my self-worth with monetary value. Money and acceptance were twisted into a very messy and conditional thing that I would later need to work out. Money of course screaming PRIVELEGE. (Insert: Unlike a lot of my LGBTQ family I am a white passing, middle class, college educated women, and because of these things I was born into I was in an ideal position to get back on my feet, quickly.) And acceptance of course being something too many of us struggle with on a daily basis.

Fast forward to ending a very toxic and abusive relationship with the girl from the gay bar, moving into my own place (parents eagerly paying for the Uhaul when I announced I had left her… there’s an ironic gay joke in there somewhere) and meeting my now wife amid the chaos. At that point I was out to my friends and sister but had never said the words “I’m Gay” to my parents. Sidenote: I never said those words to my friends or sister either, beautifully enough I simply told them I’ve met this amazing girl and it’s going well…they didn’t need the labels.

After 6 months of dating my then girlfriend I told my parents I was in a relationship. Fast forward another 6 months of my dad telling me they weren’t ready to meet her I decided to propose knowing I couldn’t wait for them to come around. We got married a year and a half later and they didn’t show up to the wedding. We’ve been married for 2 years and are now trying to start our family!

They probably won’t ever meet my wife, and our future kids, but I’ve learned that coming out and coming into myself was something I did unconditionally. A sort of promise I made to myself and the world (Insert: source or the universe, g.d, or whatever works for you) that I would dedicate my authenticity to the balance of justice and harmony. And although that balancing act is sometimes very hard with people like my parents it makes for clear boundaries… simply put, seek justice when the rights of others are at risk (i.e when I don’t stand up for myself, my community…or other marginalized peoples)…and seek harmony when recognizing one another’s humanity will birth compassion and perhaps strides towards progress and understanding. (I struggle with the latter)

The last and most important thing I’d like to share, and the gift of my life is my chosen family. It may be cliché and an unfortunate necessity for many of us in the LGBTQ community, but the friends I have found and the family I have built is more than I could have imagined. I have a sister that walked me down the aisle, best friends whose parents showed up to celebrate my engagement, witness my first look with my wife, celebrate my marriage, create and celebrate new holiday traditions, and last but not least show up for every major life moment no matter the miles between us. I’ve found friends and bonus parents that will help raise my children and teach me how to be a wife, mother and the best version of myself. Sure, there is pain, but like many quotes that are historically misinterpreted, “blood is thicker than water,” really means that the blood shared on the battlefield is thicker than the water of the womb. And trust me the people who have chosen to fight for me and those I’ve chosen to fight beside are sure as shit there. Always.

For anyone needing to hear this: “You are loved, and it gets better.”