Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

I’ve always known I liked girls but I never knew it was a “thing”! Growing up I never had contact to anyone gay until one day in middle school and upper classmen came out. She didn’t care and she told everyone!

She was someone I looked up to in sports and when she came out I thought it was cool! At this point I’ve never put any though into my own feelings! Honestly boys annoyed me I think since I was born haha but I never thought anything of it! I questioned myself and until I was a senior in high school I finally started trying to put things together. when one of my good friends came out to me and I to her! It felt amazing to say I felt something for girls! But little did I know that was the beginning of all the struggles of trying to find and ACCEPT MYSELF!
I went off to college lost not knowing who I was or who I should be! I struggle with the thought of what would my mom say! I struggled so much a becalmed depressed for a couple of years! Those years were awful but those years have got me to where I am now!
I had met someone (a beautiful girl) who made me so happy I didn’t care what anyone thought! I came out to my mom and she didn’t take it to well. Good thing I was on my own in college so the long months of my mom calling me crying or not even talking to me because she thought she had failed as a mother. It was hard because my mom is my world but if she couldn’t accept me then I would live on happy living my truth with my girlfriend.
My mom came around thanks to my awesome stepdad and she loved my girlfriend just as much as I did.

Though that relations didn’t last for long but I was out and I’m proud of who I am.
I still struggle with political officials saying that how I feel is wrong! being that my state doesn’t really like people like me and has made it where they can discriminate against me at work if they choose to. It’s hard but what keeps me going is that I know who I am and I live my truth the best I can!
Peace, love, and happiness

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

Leanne M.

So i was like, 15ish when i found out i was bisexual. I kinda knew something was different when i was a kid but i never really looked into it until i started an all girls secondary school basically run by nuns. Very exciting. I was around 13 when i seen this one girl who was like 3-4 years older than me. She was one of the most beautiful people i had ever seen and at the time i felt it was odd that i was feeling like that towards her. I introduced myself and we got talking and i basically became her little side kick aka i got completely friend zoned at the ripe age of 13 and i didn’t know it yet because i still believed that one day she’d magically feel the same way. I would then spend the next several years of school feeling like crap because i was told it was wrong to like the same sex because “the bible says it’s wrong and you’re basically in a nunnery so if we catch you doing that stuff we’ll shame you”. My teenage years were a bit rough to say the least with other family related problems going on so i never felt i had the time to actually find out whether i fully liked girls like the way i liked boys or if it was just a phase /girlcrush. That was until i met my ex girlfriend at 17. I had kissed other girls before that but this time was different considering i was of age (as was she) and stuff was bound to happen as we really liked eachother. I realized after my time with her that i do indeed like having a female companion just as much as I like being with a male one. I am in my 20’s now and have been with enough woman in the passed few years to realise i am comfortable with who i am. As much as i dont know fully who i am but then again who 100% knows themselves. Well probably Freddie mercury but he was Freddie mercury so. Anyway, yeah so lesson is don’t let anybody tell you it’s wrong for feeling the feelings you feel and as i always say you’ll never know you like it until you try it.

Morgan, she/they

TW//Homophobic slur. I guess I started questioning myself around 8th grade. All throughout middle school I had boyfriends and I was happy with that. But in 8th I was dating this guy, Alex, and we couldnt drive so his older sister (I was 13, he 14 and his sister 15) drove us when we wanted to go out. I started talking to her more and more cause she’d drive me home and such, and I remember I really wanted to be her friend. And I remember one day Alex came to school in a bad mood and I asked him what was wrong and he said, “My sisters a fag” really nonchalantly. And I grew up in a religious house and a conservative town so that wasnt really a thing you could be, but I still knew he wasnt suppose to say that word. I yelled at him and he just walked away and he didnt mention it again. I was really confused after finding that out because me and his sister had a lot in common (didnt wants kids/ husband, wanted tattoos/piercing and into art). It honestly scared me because my parents made their negative views on gay people very clear. So flash forward a few months: I just choose not to think about because I liked being with Alex so I must be straight. I got in trouble at school (buying alcohol) and got suspended. I had the choice to either go to rehab for my ‘addiction’ (not an addiction only had it a few times) or a psych ward (for depression or my eating disorder). I figured to go to inpainet rather than rehab. Once their I met alot of people and we went around saying our names and pronouns. I was so confused I didnt even know it was a thing to change your pronouns. But my roomate Liz was bi. One day we had a group counseling sessions and she was talking about how her parents didnt accept her and what not. Later it was bedtime and we were still both awake and I asked how she knew she was bi. She said she knew because she got butterflys in her stomach when she held a girls hand and she always admired girls looks and wanted to be their friend. I though ‘oh’ and thats kinda how I realized it. After a week I went into outpaient for a little under a month and then returned to school. I broke up with Alex after I got back, and told my best friend that I thought i was bi. She gave me a hug and told me that i’d love Greys Anatomy then. It scared the shit out of me to tell her but I knew she wouldnt care. But flash forward once more to now, im a sophmore that idenifies as bi with a girlfriend that i love. Im only out to people really close to me and havent told my family. I no longer talk to Alex but still talk with his sister (who actually turned me into veganism) and my best friend is still along side me (who was right, i loved Greys Anatomy).

Lesbian out and proud finally

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE.

When I came across this website, I had no intention of posting my story but reading this particular paragraph written by Dominique P-C “milestones appear when I take the time to observe what does and does not bring me happiness and then having the courage to make the changes in my life to align that which isn’t working” it made me realize I haven’t been as happy as I could be so it was time to sit back, take inventory of my life and take the time to realign myself.
I first realized I was a lesbian when o was 12. I noticed I tended to gravitate toward one female friend at a time and found myself disappointed when they developed relationships with boys. I suppressed this for a long time. I thought I can’t be gay. While I was realizing my sexual orientation my parents got divorced. It became easier to suppress because both my parents got remarried. You can only imagine the fear I had coming out when my mom married a physically abusive man who said we couldn’t bring home an African American never mind being gay. My dad married a woman who was a faithful Roman Catholic and my father also started practicing faithfully at this time. My step mom to this day is very emotionally and mentally abusive person. As I sat through church every Sunday knowing this religion believed I should go to hell for being gay, you can only imagine the fear I had wanting to come out to them.
As high school went on, I did everything I could do to please my parents. I graduated 4th in my class, volunteered, worked, and played sports and did what I thought all parents wanted. I was met with a mom who didn’t show up for one game or award ceremony. She told me I would never get into college, let alone be a nurse. I ended up getting into the best college in the northeast of the US. This is when my sexuality as a lesbian crept back up. This is when I started my drug and alcohol endeavour to suppress those feelings. I thankfully retained things well and could pull off good work at the last minute. I did what my mom said I couldn’t do and graduated on the dean’s list and got my nursing degree and license.
I immediately left home after this to get an apartment with friend and my lesbian instincts were in high gear at this point. All my life I had something to prove to get acceptance from my parents. I had no one to prove anything to anymore and was left with my own feelings. I became an alcoholic. I functioned and went to work but that was the only time I was sober. It happened to be one of those drunken nights when I finally said out loud I am a lesbian. It felt like a weight had been lifted and I could finally breath.
When I told my parents they were receptive at first, but as time goes on the tune has changed. I ended up meeting the love of my life, who I am now proud to call my wife. I remember our first date we went to the beach and stayed there all night til 4am because we didn’t want to leave each other. I knew that night I wanted to be with her the rest of my life. She had her own struggles including being hospitalized with cystic fibrosis (a chronic lung conditon) and pancreatitis. Despite the obstacles with her illnesses, I knew that night I was all in. Hearing her stories while hospitalized including coding and being brought back to life was incredible. She is the strongest woman i have ever met to endure what she has had to endure. We habe spend weeks on the hospital at a time, to be home for a week to be back in the hospital for weeks at a time again. The past 5 years we have been lucky enough to have no hospitalizatons. In have spent an amazing 7 years with my wife. She is strong, resilient, honest, faithful, loving, caring, compassionate, beautiful, smart, and puts everyone else first despite what she has been through. She is extroidinary.
My family “accepted us” at first, to later be met with comments like if you were a boy I wouldn’t be comfortable with you being gay or you and your wife don’t bother me because you don’t show affection in front of us. It is sad to know I can’t show affection to my wife in front of my family. I am sick of hiding what makes me happy and it is my relationship with my wife.
My wife put up with a lot to be with me. She helped me deal with my alcoholism. When I first met her, I could suppress the alcoholism but it eventually came out roaring and my wife almost left me due to the decisions I made while drunk all the time besides work. I am proud to say I have been sober for a year and a half with her help. She has helped me help myself become a better, stronger, smarter, honest and more caring person. She helped me become a better nurse. I can’t thank her enough. I put in the work with lots of therapy and I did it for me and on my own, but couldn’t habe done it without her support.
It is sad to know I can’t be myself around my family. They are also big drinkers and now that I am sober, the one thing I had in common with them disappeared. I no longer fit in and they don’t understand I am a different but better person sober. It is sad to know I can’t love my wife openly and honestly without judgment or feeling the need to hide who I am.
This being said in the time of COVID 19 the safety of my wife has never been more important where she is immunocompromised with a lung condition. This made me realize I need to take a step back and look at the things I do have and not the things I don’t have. I have very loving in-laws who are now my family. My wife’s extended family also took me ad if I was one of their own. I may not have the support of my family, but I have a family with my wife’s family. They love me and us as a couple unconditionally. We live simple, a good over our heads, food in the cupboard, and money to do fun things now and then, but most importantly we have each other and this beautiful love we have created.
The long and short of it is, I am no longer letting my parents affect how I love my wife from this point forward thanks to this safe place to post and read other’s stories. I am going to love my wife openly and honestly from this point forward and not be afraid of who I am. I am a lesbian woman madly in love with the woman of my dreams, my soulmate and I am not going to let anyone dictate that. I am going to continue to provide care for my patients as a nurse and do my best to keep them safe and to keep my wife safe as I along with many others continue to fight COVID 19. I am going to be my true, sober authentic self. I am going to be brave and strong and not be afraid to love my wife openly, honestly, and freely despite what my parents or this world thinks. I spent too much time hiding and I am not hiding anymore. We only get so much time on this earth to love others and treat everyone the way they should be treated no matter religion, race, sexual orientation, etc. With my wife chronically ill, it became abundantly clear that the time on this earth is short and you don’t know how long you have with the love of your life, so that being said I and going forth loving my wife freely, openly and honestly for the rest of my life.

I’m a spanish young girl. I’m 14 years old and I came out to my family a week ago.But I told some of my friends the 2nd of July.

I knew I was a member of the community because when I was 11 years old I fell in love with a 15-years-old girl that played football in the same club as me but not in the same team. I didn’t realize that I was in love, I just wanted to be close to her, I brought her candies, I talked to her on the phone during all the summer and even me and some friends recorded a dance for her. But she was much older than me and time pasted and I don’t talk to her now. After her I had a lot of crushes, like Melissa Benoist and other women on tv. I didn’t fell in love with famous men, but I didn’t realize of that either. My uncle is gay so since I was little for me always has been love, there was or is gender for love.
Like I said, I came out to my family a week ago as a lesbian, to my mom I gave her a letter with my feelings but not with the word “lesbian” I wanted to tell her face to face, so I did, and she told me that nothing had change, that I am and I will always be her baby, whoever I love, she also said that she already knew it, like she imagined it, she was very supportive. A couple of days after that I told to my older sister, and as my mom she said that that’s okay. And my mom told to my stepfather, who was also supportive and who said that he loves me even more because he will be the only man in my live. That was really sweet.
This pandemic has helped me to know me better and to accept me. Dominique Provost-Chalkley, Kat Barrell, Emily Andras and every single human in the Wynonna Earp’s show has supportited me in many ways and the representation that Wayhaught was, is and will do has been my rock in this part of my live that’s why is and will be my favourite show as like Dom is not my favourite actress but my favourite person.
I love Earpers and Wynonna Earp.

THE WAY TO YOURSELF BEGINS WITH LOVE

Love for a woman is the most beautiful thing that happened in my life.

I’ve always been a weird kid who wasn’t interested in relationships. I didn’t like boys and I didn’t like girls. I was fascinated by my inner world and the mysteries that fill my life. But I confess: “All my life I have been looking for a friend with whom I would like to share my discoveries.”

At the age of 16, I went to another school and met a girl. It seemed to us that we were once very close, which amazed us. One accident helped me become aware of my feelings. Unfortunately, they were not reciprocal. I was able to suppress these feelings in order to move on.

From the very beginning it seemed so natural to me. The only reason I tested myself for a long time, trying to be normal, is our legislation. Most likely, I will never have a full-fledged family … But it is easier to accept this than to pretend all my life.

None of my relatives know about this. I don’t want to lose my only family. And I don’t want to hurt them. But with close friends, I am absolutely frank. This gives freedom to me and to them. Very soon I fell unrequitedly in love again, but chose a new path.

Once a persone I loved said: “Unconditional love is possible only for God.” And I smiled …

I think that to love a person whom you don’t hear, don’t see, don’t know whether he is smiling now or sadness fills his heart … and even more so you don’t have the opportunity to be near, to bare yourself in front of him … This is the same as to love God.

After all, all you know is that he Is. And at some point it becomes enough for you.

My soul has always resisted the understanding of Love as an internal state. After all, I was sure that love is, first of all, a manifestation … without which any important words lose all value. And these feelings (be it inspiration or immense emptiness) without action are most likely nothing more than a need for acceptance and recognition. Since you feel so important because of the other. And this is actually enough for many people.

But when you Love, one state seems so little. There is a growing feeling of overcrowding. It’s like a cup inside you, which will soon overflow … Or a growing tree, directed upward, which is blocked by a stone roof, not allowing it to become even larger and more powerful.

Subsequently, a moment comes when you lose the meaning of life… It’s scary, hard, and aimless.

Every day the same question: “Why? What is the meaning of everything that happens to you, what is born in you, changes you, inspires you, but also throws you against a concrete wall? ” Even if you do not even have the right to say “I love you” … In any case, in the sense that is genuine.

But you don’t want to get rid of it…

It’s so easy to erase someone from your heart, stifle it in yourself and move on, continuing your search. But only weak people do this. This is the path of those who expect love from others but don’t love others. You know … When you do not want to give up on anyone, consciously dooming yourself to loneliness, the appearance of that very only person gradually dissolves. His figure slowly disappears, but the feeling remains with you.

Now I look into the eyes and find God in them, I see a blurry silhouette, behind which the whole world is.

I was finally able to feel that everything in the world exists as a whole. One soul that knew nothing but chaos until it incarnated in the material world. That is why when you meet a person who seems similar, understandable and so familiar to you, you get the feeling that you have returned home.
It always seemed to me that to be spiritual means to be in such a state of consciousness in which you identify yourself with everything living and nonliving that exists in this world or another.

Now I also identify the people I love with the Universe. They are an integral part of it, just like me. This means that we are all small parts of each other.
This gives so many opportunities for my Love that I have not found before. And if I want to show my feelings, I can do it at any moment, under any circumstances, and wherever I am. Then the world, albeit imperceptibly, will change.

In this moment, I realize that I love life like I never did before. And I so want to know her. Since life itself is Love. Now I listen to music differently, I read books differently, my fingers touch the strings of the guitar in a new way, my arms hug my relatives differently, and my eyes look at the stars in a different way.

These feelings are so pleasant. Something warm and bright shines inside me.

The body seems light, and complex things seem surprisingly simple.

It’s incredible how beautiful everything around me is, and it deserves the greatest love.

So one person becomes the whole world.

I will go my own way and sow seeds, in the expectation that the most beautiful buds will bloom in those places someday. And you will feel their wonderful scent, or you will even be able to enjoy the dazzling colors and amazing shapes.

And I still believe that I will be lucky enough to meet someone who is as in love with life as I am to love it together.

After all, when I am gone, the world will continue to exist. And I want that in this world there would be more Life!

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

Bisexual

For me, it all started with a dream. I had a dream about my best friend when I was 15, and that was when I knew that I had deeper feelings for her. We ended up falling in love and having a relationship for almost two years. We chose to keep it a secret because we were so afraid of being judged by our family and friends. The secrecy ultimately led to our demise. In college, I started to tell people my story. Everyone struggles with their identity, but it’s even harder when you grew up in a community that has a negative view of who you truly are. When I stopped repressed who I was, I started living as my true self. Honestly, I was so surprised by the love and support I received from everyone. I told my family and have their full support. For me, I needed the love and acceptance of others to ultimately love myself. I am proudly bisexual! Being apart of the LGBTQ+ community is my superpower and has given me the ability to feel deep empathy towards others. I have learned to stop judging myself, which in turn made me stop judging others. Love always win.

Kiwi TomBoy

I am a cis female, Lesbian/Queer she/her
When I was very young I always knew I didn’t fit in or feel comfortable with what I was starting to learn was “normal”. I didn’t know why though. I liked sports and I preferred bring with boys, not because I was attracted to them, whatever that meant, but because they got to do all the cool stuff. I was the classic Tomboy. Over the next few years by the time I got to high school in the early 80s in conservative Christchurch NZ , I began to realize there was something else going on, but without the knowledge to figure it all out fully. I went to a very formal all girls school, but only wanted to be friends with a select few. I was an introvert who only came out of my shell when playing sport, and of course I chose softball and cricket, two stereotypically sports dominated by gays. Yeah I know right! Read the room girl!
There had been early crushes but by the time I was about 15 there was one girl who was so different who grabbed my attention right off. Soo baby butch, the older me of course later realized. I just knew I wanted her but also her confidence. However everywhere I went I encountered homophobia even in the sports I played, which to me was scary and confusing, considering how many gays I knew in those arenas. Homosexuality was still illegal in NZ until 1986. Internalized homophobia was looking back at me in the mirror. I always was fighting my mum over my hair and clothing, as I hate dresses and skirts and still do. Even today she hates my short hair. That simple aspect of identity meant it took me too many years to be able to say out loud and proud what I had always suppressed – that I was a Lesbian/Queer and that is my biggest regret. I let the fear rise higher than my bravery.
Once I came out after University and left home, it was like a huge weight had been taken off my chest. I could finally breathe deeply and just be my true authentic self.
Would I do things differently if I could, of course, but cest la vie since I ain’t a Time Lord. I have learnt to live in the moment and be kind firstly to myself, and then to others. I am grateful I took that jump off the metaphorical cliff knowing I would fly or at least glide smoothly to a safe landing and I thank my friendsfor their support. The waves of fear no longer crash over me as I learnt how to run instead. Love of the outdoors gives me peacefulness and mindfulness, the tools of which I am still learning, but I am now happy, healthy. I am definitely still a Tomboy, hopefully a bit more dapper and stylish than the young 10 year old version of me.
Ps I wish I had a show like Wynonna Earp when I was that young teenager but I am so grateful it is there for this generation of queers.