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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Differences aren’t a bad thing – Courtney G

I would say that I always sort of knew that I was not aligned with the social norms of the society around me. I knew I was a little different because as a girl, I hated dresses and pink and I loved playing in the dirt and racing the boys in my class. I know that those differences alone didn’t make me sexually different but I felt it was a small sign that who I was in the sexual manner was different. My cousin ended up coming out long before me. He was just a few months older than me and he was my best friend. Seeing as I grew up mostly in a very religious area and was raised in that religion, I learned that homosexuality or gender fluidity was wrong and would send you to hell. So at first, I didn’t understand my cousin much because I was raised to think that sexuality was a choice. I soon saw that he was still the same guy who was my best friend and that I absolutely adored. We still laugh about it to this day, but he knew that I was going to come out someday. As I entered high school and progressed in understanding myself, I knew that I did have strong feelings for women and that men never really interested me, romantically or sexually. I tried to push this down and deny that part of myself but like one of my role models had mentioned is that you can’t really understand yourself without understanding your sexuality because it is such an integral part of you and who you are. I also pushed down ever multiplying thoughts about homosexuality because my mother was very homophobic. So on I went ignoring that part of me and hoping that one day I would fall in love with a man. Then the summer of my junior year in high school I went to ALA Girls State, which was a state camp for girls to understand how government works and all that good stuff. That was where I had my first crush. I really had never had a crush before that I mean not to that intensity. If any of my friends had asked I would have made something up about who I liked at the time. But that summer, I had my first crush, and it was a girl. The moments I realized that I was crushing on someone, I started to panic and try to talk myself out of it. But there was no talking myself out of it anymore. As the time at that camp had come to an end, we had all grown very close and I decided to come out to them. It went very well. I felt so confident about it and was so grateful to have had such a supportive group of girls to come out to first. Not long after, I had my second crush on a girl on my lacrosse team. Let me tell you, it was a hard crush. But really it just helped me understand myself and the feelings of attraction. At that point I was getting a lot more comfortable in my sexuality. I had already come out to some friends and my cousin. Another maybe month later, I was on a cruise with my mother and boyfriend, now step father, and that was when my mother decided to drag me out of the closet. My mother and I have always had a very strained relationship and this really did not help. She really asked me if I was homosexual and at that point I was done denying it. So I said yes, hoping for a better reaction than I got. I didn’t get what I was hoping for. She ended up guilt tripping me and keeping my own money away from me to try and make me not love women. I would as for $10 of my own money that she was holding on to for a souvenir and she would say, “can you not be gay?” as an answer. I ended up having to promise that I would not “be gay” until I was 25, which I really just said to make her leave me alone. I then started to think that she already knew that I liked girls and I wondered how she knew, so I asked. The answer was that she had gone through my phone and my texts and found out. It wasn’t a great. So after that we had many heated talks about my sexuality but in the end she’s still homophobic and probably will never accept it. She and my stepfather think that it’s a phase because “studies show that girl’s sexuality is fluid until they are 25”. As I am distancing myself from them, I am becoming more comfortable and happy with who I am. Thank you to the entertainment industry for being the example and showing me that love is love and that I am okay the way I am. Big thank you to The 100 and Wynonna Earp specifically. I don’t have a label for myself at the moment because I am still discovering who I am. But what I do know is that I am who I am, and that is good enough. STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR AND SUICIDE.

My name is Lauren. I’m a 24 year old disabled woman from the United States. If you’re taking the time to read my story, thank you. I hope something I’ve written encourages you.

I am a Lesbian.

Yes, you read that correctly. I’m disabled and a lesbian.

No big deal, right? Wrong!

Don’t get me wrong, I love being lesbian and loving who I wish. It wasn’t always that easy though. Due to a conservative Christian, non denominational church background I grew up from day one believing I must be straight. My parents made comments about my getting married to a dude and having children so many times I lost track. Every time they did, something inside me broke a little more, until….

I dated a woman in secret while living with my parents. It was a long distance and we never managed to meet in person and the relationship ultimately ended, but during that time I learned so much about myself. I became much more confident in myself as a person and as a Lesbian.

Ultimately, my parents and I clashed over religious views among other things. I was invited to leave their home and I did. Though I still attended church with them

October of 2019 – I’d been wanting to leave the church for a long time as I felt it was no longer for me. I texted my mother to inform her I was no longer interested in attending church. She replied that she was disappointed and heartbroken. My father’s reaction was similar, but I’d expected it.

Since moving into my own place and telling my parents I was no longer attending church, I’ve felt so much freer to express myself and be who I am. Although, before all that I attempted suicide twice before ultimately embracing every part of who I am. I know in my heart that my parents and conservative friends that I grew up with will never approve of my being a Lesbian. (That’s why I haven’t told them) After 20+ years of a religious upbringing I know that to tell some people who I am would only lead to arguments and hurt feelings.

For every hardship there’s a rainbow at the end of it all.

I’ve found this community within the last year or so as well as an extremely supportive Discord community that has welcomed me with open arms. I feel stronger, kinder, and better, overall then I ever have before in my life. Throughout my journey, I have met so many amazing, loving humans and I am grateful for every single one.

Was it hard?

Absolutely!

Do I wish my story were different?

No.

If I hadn’t gone through everything that I have I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. I don’t think I’d even be sitting here writing this, and hoping that it makes a difference to you, dear reader. I’m grateful to be me. I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful for everyone reading this.

If I can leave you with one lesson, it would be this, be GRATEFUL for who you are and where you’ve come from. No matter what your background is, no matter how dark or challenging it may seem right now.

IT WILL GET BETTER!

One day, you may share your coming out story with people, as I have done here! Be grateful for who you are, because someday your story may mean the world to someone else who is struggling with their sexuality. When you share your story to help someone else, they will be grateful, even for a moment, for your existence. They will spread that gratitude and courage to others.

Let’s build a better, more grateful, inclusive world one rainbow at a time!

I like to identify myself like just a girl who have fallen in love with her girlfriend

My name is Lucia and I am almost 30.
I don’t identify myself as gay or bisexual or queer…Honestly I have never think about this when talking about myself.
For all my life I have always had crushes for boys…So I thought things were good in this way. I was happy with myself…
Well, two years ago I met this girl, we started to text every day, I wanted her to come and visit me, u know…just for fun like friend do. She had a girlfriend that was so damn jealous about our friendship, I didn’t know why…It was just me who was trying to be a good friend.
What I started to realise is that I liked texting with her, she made me smile every single second and I wanted to see her whatever it took…Just I didn’t know what was the reason…U know…At that time I thought It was impossible I could felt something about her…
Well some months later I met a guy, we started to see each other but something felt wrong…this new relationship didn’t was right for me…Well he left me by the way and I was disappointed with all of this.
So, this girl I met broken up with her girlfriend…We were sad and single at the same time…To make me happy she decided to come and visit me for the first time, we wanted to sleep in a B&B room, I didn’t want her to be alone…Well, that night we kissed, I didn’t realise I kissed her until I felt her lips met my ones…It was…new, breathtaking and scary at the same time! My mind was over running with so many thoughts ‘WHAT IS APPENING?? WHY ME?? I LIKE HER? I LIKE GIRLS NOW?’
What I knew is that I didn’t wanted to lose her in any way…We have never part ways from that magical kiss…We talked about what happened and one month after she told me ‘So…What u want to do about this?’ And I was ‘Well, I don’t want to lose u, What I know is that I like u!’ And she was ‘So…Say it!’ And me ‘Well..I…Like u?’ And she ‘No…Do u want us to be girlfriends?’ I was so damn happy and scaried at the same time! For the first time in my life I had a girlfriend and not a boyfriend! I wanted to screem, but what I told her was ‘YES!!’
One week after I left home to work in another city and I was free to see her because I didn’t want my parents to know this…They weren’t supportive about me being with a girl.
Well, six months later I came back home and one month later my mom just found about about me…I still don’t know how. She told me she was disappointed! That happiness come with boys (WTF??) That this isn’t me because I have always had boyfriends and she couldn’t accept this. However she told me that she couldn’t forbidden me to live my life but she wasn’t happy. Is she does know about me, my dad isn’t aware about it…And it will be hard to tell him the truth…
Things are different with my friends, I am not out with all my friend but I am trying to be honest with them…Whose are close to me know everything about it and I am proud to say that I have the best friends I could ask to! They are 100% supportive.
I can say that I am very happy, I’ve never been so happy with anyone like I am now with my girlfriend…It seems like a dream with her…Just from our first kiss she made my heart beat like crazy! I,’ve never be in love with someone, I mean…really madly in love…I can’t describe all these feeling, we have been together for 2 years and it’s awesome…She is special to me, she is my life, my universe…She is the love of my life!

What I say is that I do not identify in any way…I am jus me…A girl madly in love with her girlfriend.

Queer Awakening

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

I’ve known that i was queer since 3rd grade. I found this one girl incredibly beautiful & would constantly try to impress her during recess. I had no idea what i was but i knew that i was different. It wasn’t until a year later that i heard my mom & her friend say the word “lesbian”, i asked what that was & they told me. At that moment, i felt something click & was like “wow, there’s a word for the way that i’m feeling”. Although i knew i was queer, i did not come out until i was 19 & started college. I was greeted with nothing but love & acceptance, which is all that i could’ve hoped for. After an incredibly unhealthy & toxic relationship that put me through large depressive episodes & suicidal moments, i met someone who’s perfect for me. She treats me in such a gentle & beautiful way that it continues to shock me. Although i know that i want to marry her one day, i can’t help but escape the realization that i feel as if i’m a polyamorous pansexual. I am attracted to all genders and all identities. It’s less about the looks, and more about the person & their mind that draws me in. Due to that, i feel as if i have all of this love within me just waiting to be released. The thing is, there’s so much that it’s not satisfied with just one person. It craves to be given to multiple people. At this point in my life, i am 25 years old & here i am stuck. Do i stay in this incredible monogamous relationship that is so genuine & loving but is lacking something for me, or do i take the leap of expressing and exploring my newfound queer awakening?

A 30-something year old whose journey took her from bisexual to lesbian to queer to not needing a label at all.

This story starts from the very beginning, so prepare yourself for a roller coaster.

Growing Up

Growing up as an only child, I was pretty dependent on my friends to get me through the day. If there was ever a rift in my group, it left me with a horrible feeling inside, as if I could show up the next day and be shunned from our usual bench at lunch. (My fear of abandonment is still real today, but in grade school, you were a loser if you didn’t bring the type of Lunchables that people wanted to trade you for or share with you. Social suicide at such a tender age. Kids are cruel.) So to keep my “social status”, I practically begged my parents to get me the lunches that the cool 10-year-olds ate, with fruit-by-the-foot and Mondo. After surviving the playground, my afternoons consisted of playing sports. Once I could start trying out for the teams in 5th grade, that’s all I wanted to do. I’d save the candies from my Lunchables and bring them to practice to share…with the popular (attractive – because society shamefully says that attractive=popular) girls. I’d pay attention whether they took the chocolate or the candy, which flavor Warhead was their favorite, etc. all in an attempt to talk to them as much as I could. Back then, I saw this as me just wanting them to like me because they were popular and everyone wanted to hang out with them. I knew nothing at this point other than I got severely jealous of their close friends, boyfriends, etc. Again, an awful feeling. It wasn’t until I got to high school that I started to put the pieces together.

High School

In high school, I continued to devote most of my time to schoolwork and basketball, and my teammates were again my best friends – one of them becoming my first girlfriend my sophomore year. Trust me, the irony is not beyond me. This relationship was my first real relationship, so many “firsts” came along with it: first physical/emotional/sexual experiences with a girl, first love, first breakup-and-makeup, first long-term relationship. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years, on and off, and it was such a whirlwind of a relationship. I was 15 years old, completely immersed, everything heightened and everything intense. The feelings, the arguments, the learning, the growing. It truly was a relationship fueled by the unknown mixed with teenage angst, which needless to say caused tension between me and my family because we were both “in the closet” at the time and I couldn’t tell them all the things I was going through. We went through several breaks and rekindlings, that when we approached the end of the relationship within the first maybe 1 ½ years of college, it grew to be unhealthy for the both of us. This is not to say that the good times we had weren’t really good, because they were, but all-in-all, I had outgrown it and was turning into someone I wasn’t quite fond of.

College

I met my second girlfriend in my second year of college, during my “divorce” period with my first girlfriend. I call this a “divorce” because I feel like it took a few months to “finalize” the breakup and detach myself completely. This proved more difficult than I anticipated because potential-Girlfriend-#2 was a roommate of one of Girlfriend #1’s friends, so we were still running in the same circles. Once I was officially out of relationship #1 and in relationship #2, we moved in together and this took my experiences to a whole new level – cohabitation can either make you or break you and it definitely made us. We didn’t have too many hiccups, until I hit a huge speedbump: my dad confronted me about my sexuality. I was 19 years old. Again, we were both still “in the closet” and it was terrifying.

Coming Out – Part 1

My dad asked me to go to the grocery store with him one Saturday afternoon. This would have been a normal occurrence IF 1) he didn’t tell me to get in the car the moment my mom started running her shower, AND 2) if he didn’t take the absolute longest, roundabout way to get to the grocery store. Once he parked the car, he jumped right into it. He asked who insert screenname here was (he already knew), how long we’ve been together, and if my mom knew. His spitfire questions got my spitfire answers: “Girlfriend #2”, 1 ½ years at this point, no she doesn’t know.” My face never seemed to get the memo from my brain to remain calm, so my panic shined right through. My dad’s response: he immediately put his hand on my knee, told me to look at him, and said “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to panic. I just suggest you don’t tell your mom yet because we both know that she won’t be as cool about this as I am. Now let’s get some shopping done.”

With my hands still shaking, we went into the store and went on business as usual. My dad, being the extremely blunt unfiltered person he is, proceeded to randomly ask me inappropriate questions about my relationship, drill in the point of me needing to delete my profile from the home computer so all evidence was gone, and said that if I didn’t do it the moment we got home, he would ask me more inappropriate questions and force me to answer them. “Blackmailed” by my own father.

I didn’t think it would ever go this way. I didn’t have a plan, I hadn’t thought about coming out yet, I was just being the kid-away-at-college and figuring things out as they came along. I mean, to me, this relationship with Girlfriend #2 was kind of still “new” compared to my first relationship. I have to admit though, even without having a formal sit-down with him, a coming out announcement, or anything out of my own choice really, the weight that lifted off my chest was so much greater than I anticipated it to ever be. I finally had a parent I didn’t feel I had to hide all my gritty life details from.

“Adulthood”

Girlfriend #2 and I moved back to our respective homes after being away at college, and things started going awry less than a year later. No longer being able to rely on “cohabitation making us”, we started growing apart. The want to visit each other, Skype, and even text throughout the day like we used to dwindled. We were together for roughly 4 ½ years (similar to my first relationship), but the relationship was becoming one-sided and it wasn’t fair anymore. I hate to say that fighting for it wasn’t worth it anymore, but it’s the truth. We were at different points in our lives, wanting different things for our future, but although I won’t go into the details (because that’s not the point here), all-in-all, it ended amicably.

I took a break from all the seriousness for a few months, focused on my hometown friendships, went on a few (failed) dates, but really just honed in on regaining my individuality. I was 24 years old, juggling my first job as an undergraduate and being a new furmom. Things were really coming back together, in their devil-may-care fashion, and I managed.

And then there was Shedonism – Las Vegas Pride, where I first met Girlfriend #3, my current and god willing my last. Long story kind-of-short, we met through mutual friends from LA and Sacramento, we said maybe a handful of words to each other in Vegas, went home after the event, I texted her 2 weeks later on her birthday, and it was all downhill from there. We talked daily at all hours, officially got together 6 months later, and have been together ever since. We did the long-distance thing for about 1 ½ years and here we are now, living together in LA with 2 dogs, just 4 months shy of our 5 year anniversary celebration, and I’ve never been happier. I could gush about this girl, but I’ll save you guys from that, but I just want to say that it works. It all just works. The present, the future, everything. But no matter how great and grown and comfortable I’ve been in the relationship, I still had a huge chip on my shoulder: I still had to come out to my mom. I am 29 years old, and disappointing my parents is still (and will always be) such a huge deal. But I did it, and I wasn’t alone, and it changed my life.

Coming Out – Part 2

Friday, October 28, 2016 – The day I took the most nerve-wracking risk of my life (and the longest and most crucial).
So this plan had been brewing for almost a year. I originally wanted to come out to my mom around last New Year’s, but it just wasn’t the right time. I thought so long and hard about the various ways to do it because this was probably the most important thing I was ever going to do. I was finally going to be able to plan for this and do this after so many years. I could tell her in one of our daily phone calls or texts, pony up and tell her in person in a very public place to avoid the meltdown, have my dad tell her since he’s known for 9 years, or write her a letter. I opted for the letter. I felt that if I wrote it all down in a letter, no matter how long it was, it would result in some of the weight lifting off of me AND allow me to lay absolutely everything on the table for my mom to absorb. My dad, naturally, wasn’t a fan of the idea, saying “that’s like breaking up with someone via text. I think you should do it in person,” even though I explained to him that I really didn’t think I had it in me to have an impromptu sit-down. I wrote the letter anyway and left it for her to see the next morning at my grandma’s gravesite (for other personal reasons).
Anyway, I was due to visit my parents, and since they get home around the same time, you can imagine how my plan quickly devolved into not my plan at all.
My mom and I moved about the house, my dad comes in, and says “Mom, sit down, your daughter wants to talk to you.” Cue heart attack. I’ve never glared so hard at someone EVER while I said “No dad, I don’t. I REALLY don’t.” At this point, my mom is now starting to panic. My dad then looks at me, says “You’re going to hate me for this, but…”, turns to my mom and says “Your daughter’s ‘roommate’ dates women, and so does she.” Cue heart attack #2 and blackout. What’s a girl to do now that her plan had been hijacked a day earlier than expected? I held onto my consciousness as best as I could and went to sit opposite my mother. Yikes.

The first words out of her mouth were the most heart-wrenching. A phrase a child never wants to hear out of a parent’s mouth:

“I’m disappointed in you.”

I nodded my head and gave her the floor. The next phrases played like a broken record before I’d even said a word.

“Never in a million years did I think my own daughter was going to tell me this.”

And then the parental denial:

“I prayed every night that this day would never come.”

(I complimented her motherly instinct in the letter – I knew she had it in her.)

By this time, my dad is unexpectedly sitting next to me, and as much as I hated him for blowing up my plan, I am so grateful for him right now. I began by telling my mom “I’d been in 3 long-term relationships in the last 14 years, my current relationship consisting of the last 4 ½ years (funny how this number keeps coming up). I’m so tired of hiding myself and my relationships from you and this family. I’m exhausted. My dreams for my future haven’t changed: I still want that house with a white picket fence, be pregnant, have kids, and get married, which now I can, it just won’t be to a man. I’m so happy with how my life turned out, and I’m so lucky because I’ve never been bullied or put down and my friendships are so much stronger now. I’m one of the lucky ones! But it sucked having to go through every relationship and breakup I’ve had and been too scared to tell my own mother about them so that she could help me through everything.”

“The future I wanted for you was for you to find a man who would treat you as the great girl you are, get married, and have a family together. That’s what a family is.”

My dad chimes in immediately, saying “She has found someone who treats her well and makes her happy. I’ve known for several years now, and in the grand scheme of things, this is no big deal. She’s still going to get married and have kids. Your job now as her mother is to love her, not judge her, accept it and move on. She is the same loving daughter you’ve always had. Nothing has changed that.”

Now I’m crying, and I’m not sure if it’s from my mom’s comments or from the shock of witnessing for the first time my dad’s verbal unwavering support. Fast-forward through the next 20 minutes of repeated comments, my mom then has to leave to pick up a family member from work. I turned to my dad after she’s left, and said “Well, I suppose that went as expected…when I get married some time down the road, I’d appreciate it if both of you would walk me down the aisle. I’ll take one, but both would be preferable.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye, “Look, I’d prefer you to date men, but I know that’s not going to happen. You are the way you are, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy. That’s all there is to it. If your mom is going to be upset at you or your girlfriend or anyone for that matter, that’s her problem. I don’t give a shit about anything else. We’re all just people.”

My hero.

Coming to the end of this story now, my mom and I went through 4 days of radio silence, which equaled an eternity since she has text me or called me several times a day since I went away to college. Per my request, she did still read the letter I wrote for her, and we spoke about it while my dad was out of town. I took this chance to stand my ground more firmly, profess that I’m no longer a child, this is not a phase, and this is truly and fully who I am. It has been 3 weeks since “D-Day” and life is…well life I suppose. I’m still a little freaked out that we might just be on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I will take what I can get, and my mom still loves me and hugs me hello and goodbye whenever I see her.

The relief alone feels like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It could have gone a lot worse, and I’m slightly shocked that I am one of the lucky ones. It breaks my heart that so many people out there will not have their story play out as successfully as I did. No matter how old you are, no matter what path of life you are on, the most important things I can say to you are: Trust those close to your heart and embrace them and thank them always for being there for you. Trust yourself especially, because that is who you will always have. Be so unapologetically yourself, and demand respect in the purest way you know how. Please please please stay safe, stay mindful, and only do things you are comfortable doing. You know YOU best, so you’ll know when the time is right.

This is my story, and now I can honestly say it gets better.

Fast-forward 4 years: I am 33 years old, living in Sacramento with 2 furkids, and Girlfriend #3 became my fiancé! Even though we are in the middle of a godforsaken pandemic, I have to say my home life is pretty great and it still gets better and better.

A flamboyant, macho, brainiac weirdo

Hello there,
I guess I should start with the introduction.
My name is Deniz, most people call me Deni (sounds just like Danny or Denny) and it kinda grew on me because in reality I don’t like my name. Actually I don’t like how it sounds, and sometimes people have hard time pronouncing it correctly (They usually use alternative spelling version in their native language). I just gave up eventually. In Turkish language, “Deniz” is a unisex name, the word means “sea”. For unknown reasons, people always I assume that I’m a biological man and address me as such; on the phone, on documents, in emails and etc. I know that my gender expression isn’t helping at all, but it always bothered me, being assumed to be someone and stuff.

I’d like to share a story about the time I came out as bisexual because 12 years ago coming out as queer just wasn’t in the cards. Society I was in, including myself, wasn’t ready to face the notion of gender expressions other that the binary system itself.
When I was 16, I decided to come out to my friends. I wanted to be honest, lying is not my strongest quality, never was. I was always in trıuble for being blunt. No one apreciated it, probably my dead pan face gave it away. I dunno.
I was the team captain of when I was teenager, and lots of younger swimmers in my team were looking up to me. I felt like I had the responsibility to set a good example (I mean I was the older child, I expected too much of myself I see it now). Parents were trusting me to be a wise leader, kids were coming to me with their problems. I was changing in the dressing rooms I shared with lots of younger girls and I didn’t want them to fear me. I didn’t want to seem like a predator, a freak who was supposed to be their older sister (I wasn’t even sure if I was capable of being sexually attracted to anyone until I graduated from high school, it was more of an emotional state of mine for me)
Shortly, I didn’t want to betray anyone’s trust. My coach was already sexually harrassing and grooming, flirting with (I mean what a cliché, amirite?) kids, other athletes, moms…
However, I never had the chance to be myself, I didn’t have the chance nor time to discover what I was, who I was and what I wanted in life other than what was bestowed upon me as an ideal supported and encouraged by the adults in my inner circle. (Truth time, I thought french kiss was the worst thing ever, it was messy and unsanitary, plus in high school at one time I was dating a med student and wait, I just realized that I’ve sated so many med students and I work at a hospital, what is wrong with me – I hated the French kiss because of all the med students I dated)
I attended an elite high school that is still ranked in top ten in the country I live in. It was competitive, very stressful (I don’t want to brag but Turkish education syatem is shit, I was one of the lucky ones and I had to earn my place by sacrificing anything that could be considered as fun). I never get to enjoy that high school experience as most people did. (I don’t even know what that means I mean I made out with girls and went to parties and got drunk and shit but it was low key, considering who I was in college)

One day, I just turned to my friend while we were sitting at our desks in class (I think we were in recess), mind you we were all nerds and geeks with extra ordinary curriculums up our sleeves (up to our butts, my classmate is a soloist – violinist and a successful lawyer right now), and that friend of mine was trying to solve a trigonometry equation that was bothering her for so long (time is relative). I looked at her, and in all seriousness told her that I was bisexual, that I actually liked boys and girls, as if it was my big shameful secret – it felt like I died inside.
I mean, I already dated the basketball team captain in freshman year and the drum player of the school band in sophmore, I was popular (as a weirdo maybe). It felt like a legit mistake. I could’ve seen the next day, people making fun of me and the mentioning the time they found my Lindsay Lohan photo album and asked what it was, the I replied with “She is my role model” bullshit when it was clearly, ehm… whatsevs…
Anyway, she stopped, looked at me, and said “Good for you, I’m happy for you. Now please solve this one because I can’t, and it’s embarrasing.” So, I did. It was easier to solve it if you pretend that the triangle was a part of a pizza slice, and the radius of the arc under the triangle was mirroring the parabol on the graph, thus tan(x) wasn’t just a mystery that haunted my friend for the last couple of hours. (it might have been 5 min)
She was more interested in solving the geometric riddle than whom I’d fancy. I was heartbroken. Who did she think she was? I’m just joking, it was a huge relief.

That was a wake-up call for me to be honest. That eureka moment bunked many negative pretend-comments I had about myself. I was in my head for so long. I was afraid I would let everyone down that I never realized I was letting myself down by belittling myself. I was who I was, I still am who I am. My sexuality, my gender, my gender expression are just not as interesting comparing to my personality, my vision, my interests, what I am capable of, and what I succeded.
I was really proud of myself, and then college happened…

Queer

Even as a small child I knew I felt a strong need to be around certain girls and women. From friends to teachers to celebrities, I would always be drawn to a woman. In those days I just thought everyone felt that way. I knew it didn’t feel especially normal cause I never really saw it anywhere, but I just thought I really enjoyed certain people’s company or really wanted to be their best friend.

It wasn’t until I was 15 when I had my first experience with another girl. It was once again a thing where I naively thought we were just incredibly close and best friends. I knew I felt very strongly for her but I didn’t really make it a sexual thing. That is until she kissed me. Finally everything made sense. Experiences I had kissing and being close to boys never felt right. But just a kiss with this girl sent my heart racing. It all made perfect sense.

I didn’t grow up in a house where LGBTQ+ folks were a bad thing. We were just ignorant to the fact that they existed. I knew queer people and I was friends with them, but I know people would not be kind about them behind their back and they were always a salacious topic of gossip in my very small town. I didn’t want to be the odd one out. I was popular, I played sports, boys liked me, so I just kept this part of me to myself. It always helped that the girl I was infatuated with lived 40 minutes away in a different town. So my worlds never needed to collide.

While that aspect of my life was a roller coaster of feelings, I was good at compartmentalising it. I focused really hard on sports and really didn’t let the whispers of me possibly being a lesbian get in the way. I also still dated boys to keep the rumours at bay for the most part.

It wasn’t until I was 19, dating a different girl secretly, that I was sort of pushed out of the closet. My mom was making dinner one night and she out of nowhere asked if I was dating the girl I was always spending time with. All of my instincts told me to lie. Just say no like I always do and move on. But that evening I said yes. My mom without skipping a beat said “honey I’ve known since you were 10. Nothing is going to change. Now do you want spaghetti for dinner” and that was that. Truly the easiest coming out I could have ever imagined. I actually hold a bit of guilt about that because I know it’s so much harder for so many others. I want them to have friends and family who let them be authentically themselves.

While I came out as a teenager, I think now as a 33yr old I’m realising that sexuality is an ever changing thing. I always identified as a lesbian until 4 years ago when I was feeling attraction to men. Last year I dated a non binary person who made me once again reconfigure my orientation. I feel like queer is a great label that I feel comfortable and proud having. I have a beautiful partner and life really is magical despite all the really tough moments.

To coin a popular term, it really does get better.

Love, light and rainbows to you all
✌🏼❤🏳️‍🌈

Stefanie, proud to be gay

When I found the „Start The Wave“ page and read all the coming out stories I knew I wanted to share mine too.
When I think about it, I have been gay my whole life. Growing up in the 80s and 90s in the middle of nowhere Germany there weren’t many gay couples that I knew of. The first time I saw 2 women kissing was probably in Xena. I can’t remember the exact year but I think I was 10ish. Knowing that there was something other than straight relationships was confusing.
Since I was a baby I had to fight with eczema (Neurodermatitis). I had good times and not so good times. I started playing soccer at the age of 13 (I know… very gay). In the girls team we didn’t have gay girls that I could remember. Some of the older girls on the women’s team were gay and I remember that my mom was very afraid that I would „end up“ with one of them. Most of them were not really my type anyway. She said I should be very careful. Everything I had been told was that being gay was not right. My grandma even thought that gay people were sick and needed help.
As I got older, my skin condition degraded. The changes to my skin were and are still a very slow process, so I don’t realize how bad it is until it becomes unbearable.
With puberty and all those hormones kicking in, my skin got really bad. I got laughed at, more than once, even by my „friends“. So I hid my emotions as well as I could. I knew that people couldn’t handle looking at my skin, or maybe they just didn’t want to. People would get a certain look on their faces that said “I feel sorry for you”. So I tried to talk less and less about it. It is not a fun topic to talk about, so I faked happiness as often as I could. Don’t get me wrong, when my skin was not too bad, I actually was happy. But the older I got, the worse it got. From experience I knew that no matter what I tried to make my skin better, it wouldn’t help. Because of my experience with my skin, I wasn’t really interested in having a romantic relationship with anyone. I didn’t like to be touched because it would feel uncomfortable or even worse, it would hurt.
I don’t think I ever had a real crush on a guy. I got along with them and played soccer with them, but I didn’t want to be with them romantically.
I switched to another soccer team and made some really great friends. They were really worried about me. That was the first time that anyone really cared about me outside of my family.
By the end of 11th grade, I was 17, and my skin was so bad that I had to do something about it. So I finally went to the doctor. He tried different medications, acupuncture and God knows what else. Nothing helped. Finally he gave me steroid shots. They helped. That was the first time that my skin was actually acceptable in a very long time. I think I got those shots till the end of High School. I was 19 when I graduated. I was so done with life and school that I didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward.
That was the first and only time that I was with a guy. I am still thankful that I had my period that day because I didn’t want him to touch me. It was only a fun time for him… When I went home I felt weird and just not right. I thought that he wasn’t the right guy and that I needed more time… I was so wrong.
When I started my apprenticeship I thought I could do my job and focus on the fun things in life. I was wrong again. My bosses were cruel people and treated everyone inhumanely. I felt so powerless because I did the best I could, but it was never good enough for them. When you get yelled at almost every day you just internalize the verbal abuse and feel more and more worthless.
After a couple of years on the job, at the age of 22 I think, I developed a skin condition again. When it got bad, I went back to the doctor and got another shot, but this time it didn’t help. We don’t have good dermatologists in my area, so again I did nothing. I still was suppressing my feelings because I didn’t want to deal with them. And I didn’t want other people to feel sorry for me. That is not a nice feeling. Everyone constantly gave me advice on what I should do or try for my skin. Which I had already tried and it hadn’t help. My skin got so bad that I just barely existed for a very long time. I did my job, played soccer and suffered, mostly in silence. I really enjoyed the company at soccer practice and the games. When my friends would invite me over I would always go so I wouldn’t lose touch with reality. I would force myself into uncomfortable situations. I always enjoyed music and when I think about it, my friends, music and my dogs probably saved my life. I thought that things would never change. My skin was so itchy that when I slept, I would scratch so badly it bled, so on top of everything I had extreme pain. I had to work standing because I couldn’t sit down for long periods of time. I even thought it would be easier to end it all than to suffer through it. I still cry when I think about that awful time. At least I had great friends who didn’t laugh at me.
A friend of mine recommended a dermatologist 1 hour away, so I thought I would give it a try. By the time I finally went to the doctor appointment, 95% of my skin was covered. Even people in the waiting room at the doctor stared at me. And I assume that they all had problems with their skin and should understand because they were at a dermatologist. The doctor told me that I had psoriasis and that I could do PUVA treatment (phototherapy). I did the treatment but it meant that I had to go an hour there and back plus treatment time 3 days a week for 35 sessions. The treatment was so strenuous. Despite this, I had no time off work and continued to put in at least 40 hours. My skin did get better. After I was done with the treatment, it was ok for a while and then the psoriasis would come back. Half a year later I had to do it again. It was very exhausting. On the one hand, I had the therapy and on the other I knew that the psoriases would just come back. I still refused to deal with my feelings because at this point it was too painful. After the fourth time, my doctor gave me medication for my skin. This helped but the side effects in the beginning were unpleasant. I became overheated after taking the pills and they didn’t always agree with my stomach. During all of those treatments when my skin was actually a little better, I still thought that nobody could ever want me like that because my skin still wasn’t good and it always got worse. So I still suffered through the verbal abuse at my job, but with my skin improvement I thought „why are you not interested in guys?“ And then it hit me. YOU ARE GAY. Great. That’s great. My whole family has very strong negative opinions about that. But because my skin condition leading me to suppressing my feelings, I was already 24 by the time I realized it.
My best friend at the time realized that something was very wrong with me, something beyond just my skin issues. She often talked to me but I couldn’t tell her I was gay, because when you say it, it is real. She was close friends with a gay girl at the time whom we both knew from soccer. They decided they wanted to go to Pride. They asked me if I wanted to join and I said yes. They probably wanted to go so they could take me somewhere where being gay was normal. We had a good time and on our way home my friend said „I had a phase when I had crushes on girls… how about you?“. All I could say was „I don’t think it is a phase…“ I thought it would be easier to say it after the first time but it was still difficult. I am shy and introverted and my past experiences with people whom I thought were friends didn’t make it easier. One night when we went out for dinner with my closest friends, someone shared great news and my friend said „Now we just have to find a girlfriend for her [meaning me] and everything will be great“. Everyone looked at me. They were all cool with it. It still didn’t free me. I was so afraid to tell my family. At some point my friends said that I had to tell my parents before someone else accidentally let it slip. I waited another few months to tell them. It was right before my mom’s birthday. I thought it is now or never. My dad was watching TV. A very German movie with many happy straight couples and weddings. Perfect timing. So I told them and I was crying; my dad said he didn’t care and my mom said the same. That was a little shocking to me. I thought that they would never accept me, and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.
I wanted to have a better life and I was so unhappy in my job, so I decided to get a new job and it worked. After nearly 8 terrible years, I started my new job. It was very stressful, but the people were so much nicer. It was such a relief. I started in January 2015 and in April I had my first date. That was awesome and weird at the same time because I am not good at small talk but it went ok. We met 4 times. She was too attached to her Ex to let go and all of the sudden she was dating somebody else. That was unpleasant but after a few weeks I had another date, however it wasn’t so great. We just didn’t connect so we didn’t meet again. A few weeks later I again started texting with another girl. We were texting all of the time. We met but she was also too attached to her Ex so that was a dead end too. I was very depressed and thought I didn’t want to meet new people for a while… It is so difficult for me to open up to people and meeting new people all the time seemed too stressful.
During my dating phase my friend went to the U.S. for her college degree and she met a girl at a party. The American girl (AG) had some Germans living in her house who were about to move out so my friend ended up moving in with her. The AG happened to be gay and single and asked my friend if she knew any fun and maybe even gay Germans. My friend hesitated but finally asked me if it was ok to give her my email address. I said yes but was very nervous about it. My English was ok but I was afraid I would embarrass myself. We started emailing, and then we switched to texting. We texted all the time. After 4 months she suggested we should meet in Ireland because I told her how much I love it and that she should go. She told me before we met that she was interested in me and that my skin wasn’t an issue at all. We met there in April 2016 and fell in love. She came to Germany with me and stayed for 3 months. Her job allowed her to work from anywhere as long as she had internet connection. When she went back home it was terrible. She went back and forth from U.S. to Germany and at the end of January 2017 she proposed to me. My mom is active in our church and she asked the minister if we could get married in the church too. He was thrilled about it but we had to ask everyone involved in the church administration if we would be allowed to marry as a gay couple. Only one person was against it. We had a ceremony for our civil union in the municipal office. After that we had the church ceremony. It was the best decision of my life. We had to wait till October to actually have a legal marriage because the laws changed then.
My skin was not really great during that time either but it was ok enough. At the end of the year my wife suggested that I should try to go gluten free. I wasn’t super happy about it but I thought I could try it at least. So January 01st 2018 I started to go gluten free. After 3 months we could see the changed. Probably after 9 months my skin was almost clear. I have never been happier. I could even stop taking the pills which was a great relief. I got so comfortable that I forgot for a while how miserable I was. I got 1 ½ awesome years out of it. At the end of 2019 it started to come back. Very slowly again so I didn’t realize how bad it was getting. My wife changed her diet because she has PCOS so I supported her and ate the same way. The program involved exercising, yoga and meditation (The meditation didn’t really work for me though). It helped a little with my skin but not enough. So in November 2020 I went back to the doctor. I am stuck in the treatment again. I only have a few sessions left and will be done by beginning of February. I forgot how exhausting the treatment is because I am still working normal hours. I am in an emotionally unstable phase right now, so I knew I had to do something else. I found the Start The Wave meditation, read some about Chakras and thought I would give the heart meditation a shot. I am meditating every day and I have to say it really helps my skin. I know I have to really work on my mental health too. It is so hard to admit that I am not ok. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am hoping that I will be strong enough to make it. We also changed my diet again. I hope that the combination of all of this will make a big change. I know I have the best wife by my side. She is so supportive and drives me to my treatments every time. She always tells me how strong I am. I mean I do adult every day even when I don’t feel like it. But she still loves me even on days that I don’t like myself very much. She makes me feel good about myself. There is always hope…

The real Juls

I’m currently 28 years old and my journey started in the form of a great internal storm when I was 16 years old, I was studying in a religious school and to be honest Colombia in those years was not a progressive and comfortable environment to talk about issues such as diversity and sexual orientation.
I grew up in a catholic family, my school was catholic, and my training was guided by the principles of a catholic family, so anything that came out of that pattern was labeled taboo or people just made offensive jokes about it. During high school my friends always talked about boys, all my close friends had a boyfriend in the same classroom or in the same school and in the meantime I saw the boys only as friends, the idea of ​​having a boyfriend never crossed my mind, in fact it always seemed irrelevant to me. With the girls it was very different, I felt that “something” that was absent when I saw a boy, but I always kept silent because, due to my ignorance, I thought it was something irrelevant and temporary, perhaps simple admiration.
At university nothing changed, I saw a girl and I still felt the same but this time with a little more freedom to obtain information I was able to find too many articles and LGBT content that helped me to know that something real was happening to me. When I finished university, 6 years had already passed and what started as a storm inside me became an authentic apocalypse, it was many years where the silence had wreaked havoc. What was stopping me? My family. I imagined a situation where I would tell my family and terror would take over because I could hear their voices saying “What have we failed at?”, So to release some of that destructive anxiety I started by telling my closest friends and they gave me that warmth and understanding I needed to keep myself sane at least until I told my family. It took me another year to gather all the strength to tell my family that it only consists of my mother and godmother that I’m a lesbian. The terror I felt when I told them is indescribable, my lips and throat were dry, I could not formulate a coherent phrase and my body was blocked but I could do it and I could feel free, that was…like 4 or 5 years ago I don’t remember well and I still feel that my mother has not assimilated it 100% because she is also the connection with my father’s family and I know that no one in that circle knows it, only my godmother’s family knows it.
I am an only child, perhaps that is why my mother still doesn’t fully assimilate it because she expected from me what almost all parents expect from their children: husband/wife and children but it doesn’t matter because my mother already knows and she will not see me with masks and lying to her, she will understand it 100% someday. Right now I’m calm, there are not storms inside me anymore.

Gender doesn’t define who I am attracted to or love.

Thinking back on my life I have memories of being attracted to both boys & girls but had no examples of what that was. It didn’t help living in the South and the buckle of the Bible Belt. The world, friends & family spoke negatively about “gay” people. So I pushed that part of me away, to the back of my mind. Then fast forward, I’m 28, married to a man & pregnant. I remember watching X-Files and crushing so hard on Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) while my husband thought I was into Mulder (David Duchovny). I began having anxiety, vivid dreams, fear & confusion.
Questions about my sexuality consumed my thoughts. Can I be gay or bisexual and still believe in God? I was “tomboy” but I still like wearing makeup…. Can you be gay and wear makeup?
I continued to hide my feelings. Symptoms got worse. I wanted to die.
I was 32 with 2 kids and miserable on the inside & living a lie. It was when I was ready to swallow 60 Xanax that I looked at my kids and thought I want them to grow up in a better world. I have to be that example!
I found the courage to tell my husband and file for divorce. Everyone chose ” his side”. Threatening to take my children away from their “perverted mother” & raise them the “right way”. I’ve never felt more alone. My own mother told my children their mother was going to burn in hell. I had to set boundaries and distance myself. I had to learn who I was and it took a lot longer than I wanted but it is the best most freeing thing I’ve ever felt. I described as feeling healed.
I slowly tried to make those I love understand that I’m still me and that my sexuality is not the only or most interesting thing about me. It took my mom 8 years to accept me. It was worth it, when I my son & daughter are becoming the loving, kind, & nonjudgmental people the world needs now.
A little advice for those not out and/or struggling is take your time, learn about yourself, research what LGBTQ+ support is available near you, but most importantly, stay safe. Also, before I told anyone, it made me more comfortable & confident to practice saying “I’m gay”, out loud, to myself. Sounds silly but it helped. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Thanks Dom & Start the Wave for providing such a wonderful & safe space!
Wishing Peace & Love to all! 🌈❤🌍✌🏼

I am whatever I say I am

June 13, 2020 9:35 p.m. “I’m gay”. I came out to half of my family in a text. I don’t believe there is or ever was a god but I do believe people can be cruel and unfair. I live in a pretty small town in Illinois mostly everyone is religious. But if there is a higher power then how come we don’t get a say in how we want to live our lives. Or if you are gay you go to hell but you get to chose who you love. Then how come you don’t get to tell them you love them. I say people are cruel because I am a thirteen year old female and I fear that people wouldn’t understand me because of who I chose to love. When I was 11 years old I panicked because I liked one of the girls in my class. I still get butterflies when I talk to her. She makes me laugh and she challenges me which I love.To quote a movie” Love is messy and horrible and selfish… and bold. It’s not finding your perfect half. It’s the trying and reaching and failing.” Life sucks but when we find someone who makes it suck just 0.0000000000000001 % less why can’t we decide to love them whoever they are or however they present themselves. You should not have to lie to make other people happy. You should be able to tell whomever you want whenever you want whatever. So, this is my story, well the true beginning anyways, so what’s your. And if you want you can share it. I am gay. I am bisexual. I am pan sexual. I am what ever I say I am. Nobody gets to say differently.