Our shop will be on a break between January 4th – January 23rd. All orders placed between these dates will be processed on our return. Thank you!
TRIGGER WARNING: Some of the posts on this page may contain sensitive or potentially triggering content. Start the Wave has tried to identify these posts and place individual trigger warnings on them.
Should you come across any content that needs further review, please contact us through the Contact Us page.
When I was 22, I was reading Sing You Home by Jodi Picoult and I wished I was gay because I wanted a wife, I wanted a relationship like the one the women in the book had. I told this to a friend of mine and she said, “Maybe you’re gayer than you think?” Four months later, I’d left my male fiance and was dating my friend.
I have never posted anything serious on social media and I do not like to post for all to see, but I wanted to get my story out there somehow. When I saw the video that @dominauep_c uploaded I thought I might be able to help others with my story. I understand there is a certain limit on characters with these social media outlets, but I think my story is pretty crazy and actually inspiring for anyone willing to listen. Some days I don’t even know how I am still here and still sane. The story I am about to tell isn’t for sympathy or pity but it is for hope. It’s for others to realize that things can get dark but there is always that glimmer of hope at the end.
I was born in an upper middle class family. I was the middle child and probably the cutest out of my siblings. From what I can recall I had a great childhood and a loving family. When I was 13 my family decided to take one more camping trip before the school year started. Little did I know then, but that day my whole life would change.
My mother ended up having a heart attack on the vacation and would never come back home. My father being the man that he was ended up remarrying 3 months after my mother’s passing to a abusive drug addict with 6 kids. With my fathers decision to remarry our extended family fell away. My life went from a loving family of 5 to a family of 11. Life was terrible for me and my siblings. I was constantly physical and verbally abused for years by my step mother with my fathers knowledge. At the end of my ropes, I finally fought back. My father choosing his new family kicked me and my siblings out. My grandparents took us in but only to a certain extent. We lived in their garage and could only bathe in their pool. My sister during this time was to young and had to move back in with my father and my brother ended up moving away to college, leaving me at the hands of my grandparents. Once again physically and verbally abused, my only escape was to go to college.
Going into my freshmen year of college my father decided he wanted me back in his life. He divorced his wife and got a small apartment for us to live. On my first semester break from college, I went home to his apartment to find it abandoned, no note nothing, my dad once again left me and moved in with his new girlfriend. With no where to go, I moved into my car.
When the semester break was over I returned to college and actually became good friends with a girl from my hometown. Telling her my story, her family took me in. I had a loving family again. It was great and awesome until one day I fell in love with that girl. We hid this relationship from her family, and our closest friends for 11 years. We played the straight life in public, but behind closed doors we were in love. Through those closeted 11 years together we went on dates with men to keep rumors of us together at bay.
At the age of 25 I finally saved enough money to buy my first house. My hopes were to have my girlfriend move in with me and actually come out to our friends and family. Like everything else in my life things did not go as planned. We immediately became estranged from my girlfriends family and also mine. It was hell for 2 years for us. I was getting death threats on the regular from her family that I ruined their life and I turned their daughter gay. I was an abomination to society and shouldn’t be loved for what I am. Despite what we were going through we got married in those two years. My wife’s father did not show and her mother the day before decided she would come. My family ended up coming but only a handful and our wedding was mostly celebrated by our friends who supported us.
We bought a house shortly after our wedding and in hopes of starting a family. I am going to fast forward three years and cut out more heartache of miscarriages to current day.
I am 33 now, I have my own family. I am married to the woman I fell in love with 14 years ago. We have a beautiful 16 month old spitfire and one on the way. We have a beautiful home and finally some hope of happiness and peace.I no longer talk to my family for they believe being gay and brining children into this world is cruel. My wife’s family accepts/tolerates us/ me.
I am telling my story to bring hope to those going through dark times and for those who feel alone. We are not alone and we can bring change and we need to bring change. It is important to fight and keep fighting for what we believe in no matter how dark times may get. Fight for yourself and fight for love.
I will end on words that have kept me going “happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn the light on” – Dumbledore
I came out at thirteen as a lesbian. I was so convinced I only liked women as a result of severe familial trauma in my early years.
Deep, seeded trauma had kept me from being an honest person, and while I don’t use that as an excuse for my adult behavior, I understand that trauma motivated many unsavory behaviors in me until my early twenties at least. And I will have to work the rest of my life to forgive myself for the person I was when I was not honest with myself or anyone else. And that’s okay.
I allowed the fear of myself I harbored to be my sole motivator.
I feared loneliness so I remained in toxic interpersonal relationships for fear of being alone long enough to confront my own trauma.
I feared my parents, who were incapable of caring even for themselves as a result of their own never confronted traumas, thus providing me with a grocery-list of my own traumas to deal with.
I feared being adopted or thrust into the foster care system, like my siblings had been. If I was going to have to be housed, I’d rather not have had to meet new people doing it.
I feared disappointing others, mostly my religious grandparents.
I feared all men as a result of my mother’s propensity for self sabotage and men with abusive habits.
This fear has followed me for decades. I’m here because I’m not a lesbian and I don’t think I’ve formulated a coherent thought around that before now. I love love. I love all types of people. Despite what I’ve convinced myself, I am capable of great love and I am deserving of it, no matter who it’s from. I am so sorry to my younger self for forcing her into this box. I was convinced I had to pick a side to be taken seriously. I don’t. You don’t. It’s ridiculous. Be open to love in its many forms. My life has opened up greatly since I had this revelation.
I’m trying. And sometimes that’s all you can do.
When I found love. I didnt say anything, I’m just action speak louder than words. I think everyone, no, not everyone notice what makes me happy. But I am glad i found love and Im lil bit scared because not everyone knows or accepted my imperfection. And that’s for being a Bi. So I am not totally out because I’m scared.
I always knew there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it was called, and certainly didn’t know the emotional battles I would have with myself as I was growing up.
Coming from a relatively small country town was even more confusing for me.
What is wrong with me?
Is there something wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
Are there other girls like me? Where are they?
How will I know?
What will people think?
What will my family think?
Will my friends hate me?
The questions just kept coming, but I didn’t have any answers. Each and every day I was struggling with my inner demons.
I remember my first real girl crush like it was yesterday. There was a girl in my class at primary school that just got me. I know she is still out there, and I know she is out. One day our paths may cross again.
I moved away from my home town when I was 19 and headed for the big smoke. By this time I was in so much emotional pain. I developed a very close relationship with alcohol, but the pain didn’t go away. It was always there the next day.
I became close to one of my friend’s mum. I could talk to her about anything. She obviously saw something in me that I didn’t know was ‘visible’.
When she asked if I wanted to go out one night with her and some friends, of course I said yes. What she didn’t tell me was that it was a women’s only club. When we walked in, although petrified, I finally felt like I was not alone. The place was packed, so I definitely wasn’t alone 
. Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.
I guess this was the first time I came out, and I didn’t have to say a word. And I guess that’s when her and her partner came out to me.
When it came time to start coming out to family and friends, I was shit scared, and rightly so. I was cast out, given death glares, humiliated, bullied, publicly shamed, and the list goes on.
I was made to feel disgusted that I was a human being.
Even though I was living the party life, I was now very much alone. Let’s be honest, I was trying to fill a void.
At my lowest point, I just wanted to die.
Slowly, I started to meet people who just saw me, without judgement. I was finally starting to realise that life could be beautiful.
Times were changing.
Or was it just me seeing things more clearly?
Things were very different back in the 90’s.
Along came the internet, mobile phones, and a multitude of Social Media platforms.
May the support, awareness and love continue to grow for the LGBTQ+ community.
I always knew I liked girls. I think I was as young as six. But I also liked being a girl, and being girly. I never quite felt the same about boys, but this way of feeling was totally different from those around me, so I guess I thought I was just wrong. Maybe I just admired girls? Maybe that’s just being a feminist? Girl power? Haha. I was a 90s kids so Spice Girls, and Britney and Christina Aguilera were totally ok to fangal over but I felt I liked them a bit more than others. The slow realisation that I was a feminine lesbian took several years not because I was confused about me identifying as that, but cause I didn’t feel there was a place in the world for me, so again, I must be wrong. The word lesbian sounded harsh and pornographic I didn’t like it, the stereotype put me off and seemed quite negative and exclusive, when I attempted to step in to the community I wasn’t welcomed in for fear I was too girly to be gay I MUST be straight or just curious. I didn’t fit anywhere. I felt alone. I think I’ve only started to accept who I am in the last few years and now I’m nearly 30. Scary and sad it’s taken so long. But after 25 I guess the youthful angst washes away and you begin to feel comfortable in your own skin, whatever that may be. You accept that you’re not going anywhere so you may as well settle in for the long run. At the same time, life is short, so cut the crap and just get on with it! Queer representation in culture and media is also just starting to blossom. It’s now kinda cool to be gay, which seems a little superficial but at least a little room as been made for me to exist as MY authentic self. I AM A WOMAN WHO LIKES BEING A WOMAN AND LOVES WOMEN! Haha. I still don’t like the term lesbian, but at least now I love being me 🙂
My journey started 9 years ago and is still going on now. Looking back, it may have even started years before that? But 9 years ago, my sister got pregnant at 16 and kickstarted my mother into giving my younger sister and I the dreaded “safe sex” talk at age 11 & 13! Being the smart ass that I am, told my mother I didn’t need the “talk” because I was a lesbian. We all had a good laugh and left the conversation at that. Except that became a running joke within my family… “when you get a girlfriend she’ll be my favourite daughter” my mum would say. It’s kinda the reversal of 90% of queer stories, rather than feeling like i was being putting in this heterosexual mould that society expected of me, I was constantly being called gay by my family. sometimes fondly, sometimes not so fondly. It lead me on a journey of confusion and frustration. For years I was a walking, human-shaped, lump of utter confusion, sometimes I still am. It started making me question everything; interactions I’ve had, friends I made, people I avoided. I had a fear of talking to new people, mostly boys. In 23 years I can count on one hand the amount of relationships I have had (spoiler alert: it’s absolutely zero)… But I like to read stories, fanfiction, comics and 99% of them are queer. Most times, I can’t watch a tv show if it doesn’t have at least one rainbow community representation.. it’s been 9 years and I still don’t know what I am or what I like.. however, I’ve always felt more connected, safer, with females, I can remember meeting a couple when I was like 7yrs old (because that’s what I liked to do when I was little; assert myself into strangers life if even for a few minutes) at the beach and introducing myself and staying with them for hours. The woman was so nice, Jill was her name, and they were trying for a baby of their own. I held her hand, she make sure I had sunblock on, that I was fed and not thirsty. In retrospect, that’s kinda weird for someone to do for a random kid but I remember crying when I had to leave. I don’t remember her boyfriend, nor did I have any sort of connection with him or any other male (though that may be a result of some early childhood trauma? Idk) what I’m trying to say is that my journey is still going on now and I am looking forward to wherever it may lead me; my mother may get a future daughter-in-law or a son-in-law or someone in between or maybe I’ll just get a whole bunch of cats? Either way, I am loved. I adore Waverly and her bravery to go after what she wants and I aspire to be even half as brave! I am trying to absorb some of Waverly’s Bravery to explore what could make me happy…. also, Ive watched Gentleman Jack (several times; Sophie Rundle is adorable!) for an appreciation of just how far we’ve come!!
All of the coming out stories on this site encouraged me to write what follows and post it on my website and social media. Thank you to one and all for speaking their truth and in doing so, reminding me how important it is to own our truth and for me, stand publicly in my truth.
I have never officially come out of the closet. I also never sat my parents down to explain my sexuality. It never felt right to me, I would not explain having a boyfriend so why would I explain having a girlfriend. The idea felt degrading and separatist. I brought my girlfriend home from college and we slept in the same room. My parents have always been accepting and supportive and this was no different. Eventually conversations occurred with my parents and we all acknowledged my having a girlfriend in college and in high school it was boyfriends. That was it, and the love and support I expected and desired has always been there. With time and life experiences I recognize how blessed I have been to have such parents.
By my sophomore year at college I had a serious girlfriend. We were not out to everyone, but we were not hiding. We essentially lived together and hung out with mutual friends. College felt freeing to me, having grown up in a small town in Western Kansas where EVERYONE knew everything, or it seemed. Unfortunately, college was also my first experience where I discovered what it is like to be judged and attacked for my sexuality. I was outed by an instructor and several peers. The derisive gossip was meant to attack and shame me, to what end I do not know. Action taken, I assume, because I was different and that apparently made me a threat. Again, one of those people who outed me was a college instructor… The lesson I took was to become smaller and less of a threat, and it worked.
I became a professional horse trainer and riding instructor; a career path that is heavily dominated by men with women predominantly the clientele, a world built on traditional conservative values. In this role I had to be as tough as a man and as feminine as I could be in appearance to survive; I worked hard and found success and continued to hide in plain sight. My inner circle knew, I just did not blatantly flaunt my relationships in the workplace. However, on occasion, I experienced people finding out and attempting to use my sexuality as a weapon against me. They were never even my clients. Somehow, being a woman and loving a woman was a threat to some. I find it confusing, the horses never seemed bothered and my students grew their riding skills. Shouldn’t that be enough? Wasn’t that my job?
Over the last several decades I have been asked to go back into the closet surprisingly frequently. One such request was from a partner. For her, I embraced a much higher level of privacy and seclusion, embracing dishonesty about my truth. I justified it to myself for her benefit as she was struggling with her own sexuality, and I knew what it is like to be outed and attacked. This choice came at a cost. I slowly but surely chipped away at my own value and self-worth. When you add the shift in our culture toward more blatant violence being taken against the LGBTQ+ community, it is no wonder I find myself hesitating to come out of my cave and stand tall.
During this pandemic, I have had some extra time on my hands and have continued the process of self-discovery and awakening. In 2016 I had a health scare, a little bit of breast cancer, which started me on a path of embracing life at an elevated level. I have explored regrets, past relationships, work choices, friendships, the list goes on. Recently I have been addressing my sexuality in depth. It seems strange to do at 51… After my last breakup I tried to talk myself into being straight, didn’t work. I have sought a label to fit in, frankly because it seems easier to find community and answer questions. The truth is that I do not fit a specific label, I am not gay, straight or bisexual. I like men, but I truly prefer women. Like many, I have struggled with understanding the diverse array of labels I have come across and what they all mean. Finally, I have landed on the belief that they, much like me, are trying to find a simple way to describe and understand themselves and maybe find others who are similar. It is hard to find community and mentors if you cannot describe yourself or see yourself in others. Visibility matters. Voice matters. Being acknowledged matters. Being seen, really seen matters.
Today I am choosing to officially come out of the closet. I am guessing the closest I will get to a label is calling myself queer, but I still do not prefer labels… I am so much more than this one word. I am a woman, driven, a leader, compassionate, an empath, a warrior, a facilitator, a healer, a horse trainer, a people trainer and coach, an aunt, a daughter, a professor, a humorist, an author, a story teller, a nature lover, a dog mom, a dancer…. and I am queer. I must speak my truth and be fully congruent. If I am not congruent, I am not whole. I deserve to live an entirely whole life embodying my full truth. I am most at ease and entirely in my power when I am my truth. I want to be the mentor for that person who feels alone and know it is possible to be fully embodied and live your truth. Self-acceptance gifts us with self-confidence, which empowers us. The job or client I do not get because of this statement, I do not want. No more tainted money. I am a better facilitator, teacher, trainer and human being because of who I am and what I have experienced in my life. I deserve to give you the best of me and you deserve to receive my best. That means I must stand fully in MY power.
I am here and I am reaching my hand out. To my cousin – I am sorry I did not know you, did not know that you were suddenly a teenager forced to survive life and the streets because of who you are. I am so grateful to know you today, to love you and count you as my family. I do not want to fail another. To those who simply need to know they are not alone, I am here with you. I stand beside you and see your light. To those who need a hand, I am here and will steady the ladder. To those who need to be witnessed or heard, my eyes and ears are open. May we all as a community, young and not so young, stand together and raise our voices. May we rise and be the mentors we dreamed of to create a better world for us all; every shade of the rainbow deserves to be seen and honored.
Cathy
The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.
So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.
For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.
I knew I was different, in elementary school, but I didn’t know why. As I got older, I started learning about things that were never spoken about in the Mexican culture. I learned about sex through classmates when I was in elementary school. When I came home, I told my mom some of my peers told me about sex. My Mom immediately got upset, she told me they shouldn’t have revealed to me what that was, and told me to never speak to my school mates again.
As I grew older and entered middle school, I was looking for music on a computer. I found a folder that had a name thinking it was a music file and well it wasn’t a music file. As you can imagine, that was a bit of a shock. I shamefully closed the window as quickly as I could. However, curiosity got the best of me and I opened it again, several times. Finally, embarrassed and fearing being found out, I closed everything on the computer. These feelings that I stumbled upon, continued to grow throughout my formative middle school years. I began to realize how much more I noticed girls and not boys.
When I started high school, I knew that I liked women but I dated boys, because I was scared to come out to my parents. I did what I thought I should have done. I lost my virginity to a guy sometime in high school, although I didn’t feel any emotional connection. I did eventually find a great group of friends and we would remain close throughout the rest of high school. I had crushes on two of the girls in my friend group and I was still afraid to come out. The one crush was particularly devastating, as she was taken by my other male best friend. He wasn’t upset but it was still scary to come out because I wasn’t sure what the reception would be. I didn’t want to lose my friends. Not only that I was still questioning myself. I eventually lost touch with my high school friends unfortunately.
I did eventually come out to my parents near the end of high school. I told them after coming back home from a church retreat. I came out and told them I was bi ( I still wasn’t sure of myself at the time) my mom proceeded to call her church friends so they could pray the gay away from me. I complied with my mom’s wishes. I kneeled down and pretended to repent while crossing my fingers behind my back. My mother at one point screamed at god asking why she had been punished by having a gay child. After this we didn’t talk for a while.
Around the same time, I came out to my brother on the same day that he was going to give me a guitar as a christmas gift. I cried and I told him about my situation with Mom and Dad as well as my fear of losing people. He embraced me with the warmest hug and told me that I shouldn’t care what others think or worry about the religious factor. He told me he loves me no matter what. I was relieved and happy.
I was much more nervous to tell my sister, oddly enough she already knew. And we also never spoke about it again.
With Phoenix job corps came many new experiences and new crushes. I felt like I could finally be myself. I came to grips with the realization I am a lesbian and not bisexual. And today I finally find the courage to come out to you all as a Mexican American lesbian and I am authentically proud to be me.
