Community Rainbow Waves

My story, Flora

Looking back I think I always asked myself about my sexuality.

As soon as in primary school, I remember having a crush on a classmate. Of course at the time, having no idea what it meant and no representation to lean on, I just thought maybe I just wanted her to be my friend, or maybe I wanted to be her, I was confused, kept it a secret and repressed it.

Later, in middle school and high school, my friends started dating, and I felt unmoved by that but at the same time I started asking myself loads of questions. Why wasn’t I attracted to boys the way they were? I craved a relationship though, and when the chance presented I had my first time with a man I met during a trip. I remember feeling very bad after the did. Don’t take me wrong, I wanted it to happened, I thought the guy looked nice and he was very gentle and respectful. But it didn’t feel right, and I wasn’t expecting that.

I had my first “serious” boyfriend soon after. I was in my early 20s. We could spend hours talking, we really got along. But then again the intimate parts seemed off to me. I remember asking myself more and more questions, and being torn apart between the fact that I wanted to be like “everyone” and have a boyfriend, and the fact that deep down I started to feel sure that I wasn’t attracted to men. But I kept finding excuses, maybe he just wasn’t “the one”.

I started to find lesbian representation on TV shows. It became almost an obsession at times. I spent a monstrous amount of time watching and rewatching some scenes, fanvids, reading content on forums etc. I can’t explain it. I had personal issues yes, but a loving and open family nonetheless and the best friends someone could ask for. But I kept all my questioning to myself and spent hundred of hours on the digital world were I felt safe, like I belong.

A few years after that, I met the man who would become my second and last boyfriend. He was the best : funny, ecologically responsible, handsome, smart and so, so nice. But once again it didn’t “click”. I adored him but I knew deep down that I could never love him. After some time, I couldn’t take it anymore and got separated. I hurt him and it was for me so awful and relieving at the same time.

A couple of months after that, I came out as a lesbian to my friends and family. They were all very accepting.

What took me so long I then asked myself, why did I just lost years trying to build relationships with men when I knew very well I was attracted to women? I had known all along that my loved ones wouldn’t reject me. I was the one that rejected me. Because I wanted to be like “everyone”. Because I was scared of what other people could think. Because I felt ashamed. That’s what internalized homophobia and lack of LGBT+ representation as a kid did to me. A lack of courage also maybe.

Sure, nowadays we have more representation in movies and so on. But I feel we don’t have enough. Not because I want to make everything “gay” like some criticize sometimes – I realize that sadly we’re a minority, but because I wish for all the kids out there to grow up in a world where it’s “normal” to be LGBT+, and never feel like they’re abnormal or alone. I want sexuality to become a non-question, I want to stop feeling uncomfortable when someone I don’t know assume I have a boyfriend as if it is the only option I have.

I understand why this issue seems so insignificant for some. Because there are so many problems in the world right now. And I agree with that, but I would say let’s take one fight at a time, and it’s much more important than it seems.

I’m in my late 20s now. I’ve only had one longtime girlfriend who showed me sex can and should feel good. I don’t have the happiest love life right now but it feels so good to accept my preferences and who I am.

That’s my story. Make of that what you will.

No rainbow without the rain – Queer sunshine

My story isn’t the saddest or the most unique one to tell but it is my story. And in the LGBTQIA+ community it is all about representation, so here I go.

Lucky enough for me, when I first discovered that I liked girls it didn’t scare me or terrify me (at first). It was just the way I felt – I recognised it as a part of me, like an inherent puzzle piece of mine. I didn’t judge it as something that needed to be addressed or spoken about, rather, I didn’t think of it much. Almost like breathing: you breath without thinking – in and out – every day, every minute, everywhere. That’s how I felt about being interested in girls, it’s just a part of my nature.

I was about 13 years old. And part of why it came to me so easily, without struggling about what it may or may not mean, was due to the Russian band t.A.T.u. Okay, now, we all know it was for show, BUT and that is the important part: I felt represented, I felt like I wasn’t the only one, and even though it was a controversial topic back then, most people discussed it in a very open-minded way. The topic was present in the media. With 14 I had my first girlfriend, and my Dad was totally cool about it. We never needed to talk about it or address it any way – just like me, he never needed to wrap his head around it.

My mom, however, was different: She somehow suspected something, so she went snooping through my things and found a letter of my girlfriend at the time. It was after her telling me that she was disappointed in me, that no child of hers would behave in such a way that I realised being gay or being queer, or whatever label describes you best is maybe not just like breathing. It was the first time that I felt ashamed of myself, that I started thinking about what it meant to be different, that I didn’t feel accepted for who I am. It was within these struggles that I broke up with my girlfriend and that I didn’t have any kind of relationship for the longest of time.

After high school, I went abroad to Canada: learning about myself, working for the first time, living in a foreign country, speaking a different language, and just trying my best to find my authentic and true self. And it was the way people openly accepted me and my queer ways, that I understood that whatever I feel, whomever I feel something for is okay, is valid. I’ve never in my life encountered people who were more open-minded than Canadians, like ever! I’m forever grateful for my Canadian (host) family, for making me feel at ease with myself, for accepting me with all my queeriness.

Today I’m married to the most wonderful woman in the world, we are proud of our relationship and of our love. That doesn’t mean that we do not struggle anymore, or that everyone just accepts us. On the contrary, even though my mum was at our wedding, she does not accept us 100%, she still thinks that the way I live my life is wrong. BUT I know that nothing about love is ever wrong. I know that love and human beings can have a million different colors, and another million different shades of these colors – and that is beautiful. Maybe, just maybe, the more we are willing to stand up for ourselves, to be loud and proud, the more people see that, indeed, love is love, that this precious feeling, the truest of them all, is a wonderful thing and that instead of being ashamed of it we should embrace it with both arms as strong as we possibly can. And when there are moments – and we cannot deny that there are – when people do not accept us, say that homosexuality is a sin, call us names, then we must remember that it is exactly this rain that, together with our inner sun rays, becomes the world-encompassing rainbow we all want to see one day.

Bex

I am 32 years old and have been wanting to come out for a very long time but I still have yet to find the courage to do so. I live in a very small country (Malta) where everybody knows everyone and this makes it even harder for me because I know that not everyone is accepting. Looking back, I have been more drawn to girls from a very young age. My first memory is when I was about 8 years old and I had my first crush. It was all so very confusing for me because I was always taught that a woman should be with a man and vice versa. As I grew older I started learning more about what I was feeling but I could never share it with anyone. This made and still makes me feel very much alone. It also brings a lot of guilt with it because I am lying to everyone about who I really am.

Seeing what Dominique did on her birthday brought out so many emotions. Even though she is younger than me, she is such an inspiration and I wish I could have an ounce of the courage that she does.

I will keep trying to find the courage. I just wanted to share my story and show others that they are not alone if, like me, still have not managed to find their voice.

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

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.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

Katy/Polyamorous Lesbian

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

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

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

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

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

Tinne

I am a cisgendered Lesbian who uses she/her, and who identifies by simply my name.

I knew I was a Lesbian when I was 10 years old. I had a friend who was an actor and singer and I would often help her with work. One day we decided to do some improvisation, which she loved but did not get to do often. She set the scene and we both get into character and then she leads the scene to where I would kiss her. I stopped myself unsure of what to do. I really wanted to kiss her, but as far as I knew she was straight so we did not kiss. It was a little awkward after that but we made it through and remained friends until college. That is a whole different story.

College at 19 I finally accepted who I am now to come out. I struggled for a year alone with it going back in forth about if my family will accept me. Despite my parents having Lesbian friends and going to gay bars with them. Well during the year I was struggling my older sister and mom were talking about my sexuality. Finally mom told me my sister was worried I didn’t know who I was because I had never dated anyone. I was so mad that I said I know exactly who I am. I am a Lesbian mom. Her reaction was I know. I was waiting for you to tell me. That went not at all as I had planned! So now the next step my dad. Mom wants to wait so I do. My mom, dad and I go on vacation together when I am 21. While I am visiting friends my parents along with an ex minister and his wife go to gay pride where my proceeds to out me to everyone. Yeah I was livid. So I come back and my dad is acting awkward. He put his arm around me and said oh sorry you don’t like that. I am like dad just because I do not like that from other men does not mean I do not like it from you. You are my dad and that will never change. We were good from that time on and remained close to each other as we always had been. Then the Minister asks me what advice I had for people coming out after I tell them the whole story of my first girlfriend, which my mom knew nothing about. I said expect the worst and hope for the best. That is what I did, which floored everyone there. I said you can be open minded about other people being queer but it is different when it is your own child. Then it was time to come out to my siblings. I had asked my wife to marry me so I decided to come out and tell them I was engaged at the same time and they were like yeah we know and congratulations and moved on with the conversation.

I am extremely lucky in my journey to have had so much positivity and acceptance and because of that I try to pass it on as much as I can to others. I still give the advice I did then but I will add. If you are not lucky enough to have an accepting family then find one that will accept you. You are beautiful the way you are. You have the right to love whoever you want. You have the right to be whoever you are, because you are a beautiful human being just they way you are. Find a family who will celebrate and support you in being you. Own your individuality and pride. Own who you are.

Lesbian/Gay

I’m older than a lot of you but still thought I’d share. When I was in 3rd grade I had a crush on my best friend a girl and also a boy in my class. Well I soon figured out I just liked him as a friend. Then 4th grade we had this gorgeous student helper. I continued to have these feelings as I grew but I hid them throughout high school. I came from a very religious family and you couldn’t do anything worse than being homosexual. It was right up there with murder….! So I dated boys and even married but it only lasted a year we had plenty of issues. It was only after I was divorced at the age of 21 that I met this incredible woman and she was everything that I’d ever I wanted. I allowed myself to feel the things I had hidden deep down and I was flooded with something I’d never known….happiness! We have been married for 5 years now and I’m so happy I was finally able to be me. So coming out is a process that I still do after all these years. My family found me disgusting for many years. They slowly let me back into their life’s. When I work with someone new the question always comes up, so are you married and do you have kids? I tell them the truth which I feel is coming out again and again. At least it’s easier now and most don’t say anything even if they are against it.

2nd generation Homo

I think I knew I was gay before I knew I was gay. To a lot of people that will make no sense and to so many others it will make perfect sense! I used to write on my diary about people I liked and make up boys names to use instead of the girls name, but still I didn’t reall realise i was gay. I have this clear memory of sitting with my friend when I was about 13 and telling her that when I imagine myself when I’m older and settled down, it is with a girl and my friend said cool so your gay then? And I remember being like what?! No, of coarse not…. It wasn’t until a few years later when I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend at the time that it finally started to sink in, I think I might be gay. I came out when o was 15. When I told my friends they just sighed a breath of relief that I’d finally cottoned on. When I told my mum, who I was terrified to tell. She told me ‘ive known since you were 3 and wouldn’t wear a dress’ as soon as she said that I knew we would be fine. I mean it took a few years but we got there eventually. She may still say the odd comment here or there but she doesn’t mean to offend when that happens usually it’s just a lack of understanding and then we talk and it’s better. I came out when I was 15 and I’m now 31 so I have been out longer than I was in and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be my age and only just being able to be your authentic self. My dad came out when he was 40 and I felt so much sorrow for him that he had to live so much of his life not being himself. He was always a bit of a grumpy man but that completely changed when he came out. He is 60 now and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him grumpy for even a minute on the last 20 years since he has been out. For anyone out there who is struggling with coming out, who is worried about what the people around them think. just remember you are part of a community, a community full of love and acceptance and we will always accept you. ‘the people who matter won’t mind and the people who mind don’t matter’