Community Rainbow Waves

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

Human

I love who I love.
Growing up I knew I was different. I was a bit of an introvert. Didn’t want to be around anyone. I felt awkward. I always wanted to please my family. I wanted to leave my little town and never look back as soon as I graduated. I joined the Marines. But I still felt like I needed to please my family. Long story short, Two crappy marriages later (and two wonderful children), I decided to do me and not worry about anything else. I have found someone that truly makes me happy. And my family loves her.
We will all have our ups and downs, but that’s love/relationships.
Be you no matter what. Love the one who loves you.

Lesbian/Gay

I never did have an eureka moment. That, my god, I think I like girls moment. It always just felt somehow innate, a part of me somehow. A part of me I should always without question hide. As a young adult I thought to myself “ Yes, your gay, but you can never act on it”.

I remember being a very young child. I was looking at a performing arts troupe and I was transfixed at one of the performers. It wasn’t an attraction, I was too young, but I felt like I was in a trance , drawn to her female energy.

And so it was, I knew I was Lesbian but I lived in rural Ireland. The mentality as it was at the time -I believed I could never be openly gay. And honestly I was just scared. Too scared to act , not that even if I was brave that there was any place I could go or people I could talk too. No facility’s , no groups , no gay bars. We didn’t even have internet until I was already an adult. TV barely depicted female or gay relationships of any kind. Any show , any song , books, any films that depicted lesbian relationships I clung too. In secret, I clung to this love I didn’t think would I would ever feel for myself.

I was always a Tomboy , playing with the boys , wanting the boys toys. In adolescence when I was teased with “ Your such a Tomboy “ “ Why don’t you like girlie things ” I began to consider myself somehow wrong. I needed to be more girly to be accepted.
And so as a teenager, I dressed more like a typical girl of my age , faked interest in school boy crushes and ultimately completely lost myself in the process. I was such a outgoing confident child, in my adolescence I found myself quieter, more shy, confused and I felt very much alone. I carried this fear that I would be found out – as if that could be the worst thing that could ever happen. Because at the time, I though it was.

When I was 17 and like some teenage film cliche I fell completely and utterly In love with the German exchange student and we were inseparable for 6 months. She even asked me to kiss her once but I didn’t.

I always suffered from sore throats from childhood into adulthood. One day I was in an angel shop and somehow got talking about this with the lady who ran it. She said to me “ You are not speaking your truth “ and that stuck with me. The sore throats continued for a long time.

I went to college. I remember the day the clubs lined the corridor looking for new member. I waked by the LGBT table, afraid that people would see my eyes dart towards it.

I went out with friends. I kissed boys. I hoped it would one day feel different. That it might click. It never did. I even went on a few dates. Boys even fell for me – hard but I couldn’t explain why I didn’t feel the same.

In Ireland the first question from aunts and uncles mouths are usually “ Any boyfriend !?”
Followed by “Why doesn’t a pretty girl like you not have a boyfriend” It was tiring and I felt embarrassed.

I was 21 when I graduated with an honors degree in law but a superior degree in self denial.

One of my classmates and I went out one night in our final year. That night- she went home with a girl. She came into class the next morning in the clothes we had went out in the night before. Without words she asked me to keep her secret and I did. Finally, someone who might know how I felt someone I could talk too. We went to our first gay bar together and there in the middle of the dance floor for the first time in my life I said “ I’m gay “.

I had kissed girls , friends , straight friends drunk on dance floors, maybe for boys benefit but it wasn’t until the summer after I graduated in 2010 that I kissed the first girl who wanted to kiss me back in an abandoned classroom of the college I had just left. I thought my heart might beat out of my body. She became my first girlfriend and what ensued for the next 2 years was a double life , my ‘ straight acting ‘ life at home and my life with her and my small few gay friends I had gathered. I couldn’t explain to friends /family why I had to keep inexplicable leaving to see this person. I was stressed but in love. In love but oh so naive. She broke my heart and I was crushed. My family wondered why I lost so much weight. Why i seemed so sad.Convinced I had developed some eating disorder. In a moment of heartbreak I told my sister. She was kind but warned me to never tell our Mother.

Through the majority of my 20s i had a few different relationships , but never disclosed that to my parents. They only knew some of me , I had to omit so much of my life , the best parts of my life because it was my love. I left out my happiness. We spoke about surface matters and it became apparent that , that was ok. My father was kind and loving and I never felt it would be an issue but I couldn’t tell one without the other ( I suspect he knew) that my sisters had filled him in. He made efforts to show me he loved me. My mother had once told me “ Never tell me your Gay Anita, don’t ever tell me that . I couldn’t take it” and so I didn’t.

I use to feel uncomfortable at home hoping certain questions wouldn’t come up. I loved my partners , I loved being myself and I could because I didn’t live at home so when I went home a lot of the time I felt repressed , like I was in hiding. Just awaiting a time I could leave and embrace myself again. For a long time I was a stranger to them. I was scared to come out. I honestly thought that my Mother would just preferred for me not to do it. And so that’s what I did for a long time. I came out to friends along the way which explained some things to them. All were kind.

Very slowly my two worlds, my two lives grew together, along with my own growth, my own comfortableness with myself , my self love ignited.

In 2015 Marriage Equality was passed in Ireland and I took to the streets. I saw the glee and the love and I smiled. I attended the Marches and now the celebrations and it had all come full circle. I felt ashamed of the parts of me I still kept hidden away.

In the end I never had that sit down conversation with my parents where I said ‘ I’m gay’- it just naturally transitioned.

Some things I wanted in my life I wrote down on a piece of paper and put it in my wallet, a to do list. The thing I wanted the most was “ a love that even time would lie down and be still for “ I wished for it , every eyelash , every birthday candle blow out. On my list I wrote “ Find a love that makes your heart sing “.

I had loved , experienced great times , great experiences and adventures but always something felt missing.

I have found that love that makes my heart sing , it makes everything sing. My Dad passed away in November 2018 and I’m glad he got to meet her. I know he could tell I was happy. His passing also helped me grow , to solidify that I could never think of hiding that love. When I brought her home , the love was palpable and for the first time any walls that were still up or any withholding between me and my family seems to fall away without words.

I was guilty of being private with my life but we have all let each other in, in a way we never have before and it can only grow from here. Having experience the grief of my Dads death I feel silly for hiding so much of myself from him for so long – a regret of sorts but with every goodbye we learn. I’m happy to be where I am now , happy in my own skin and so very in love with my soul mate. 32 years old and being my authentic self. It took love , grief and growth to get here. The journey is different for everyone. Happy travels.

Truth

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

A transwoman, finally able to be herself

I first realized something about me was different when I was about 14. All the boys in my religious private school, which was gender segregated, started noticing girls. I noticed girls, and boys, but more importantly I wanted to be the girls. This was during a time when it was very much not acceptable to be trans. And in the religious community where I lived, even more so. I was told, “a person can either be queer, or they can be Jewish. They can’t be both.” And the Jewish community was my world, my life. It was everything I knew.

Over the next few years, I struggled with myself and my identity, up-and-down and up-and-down. I tried to pray the gay away. I tried being hyper masculine, to offset what I knew was the real person inside me. Nothing worked, nothing made the pain of living a lie go away. And I would spiral up-and-down and up-and-down. And then I couldn’t take it anymore.

I sat my spouse down, and I explained to her how I have been feeling and how I was not the person that she thought she married. I had my bags packed, and I fully expected her to throw me out. And to my utter surprise, and as I started sobbing common she didn’t. She hugged me and said “OK. Let’s deal with this together.”

Since then, I have come out, I’m living my truth, and I could never be happier. I’ve met family members who I never knew before, and found the family of my heart. And I could not possibly be happier. My wife accepts me for who I am, my children accept me for who I am. And that’s all that’s really important.

Aly

On some level, I always knew I was different. I knew that I wasn’t as “boy crazy” as all my friends growing up. Due to various outside forces at play, including (but not limited to) family, peers, church, and small town disdain of queer identities, I never allowed myself to explore the possibility that I was a lesbian.

That all changed when I graduated high school and moved 2 hours away to college. Geographically, I was still in close proximity to my family; socially, however, I was a world away from the “hick town” of my upbringing. While in college, I joined both a sorority AND the rugby club team. I met queer women of many identities and walks of life in both organizations.

Once I realized that the sometimes all-too-typical media portrayal of “butch” lesbians were not the only way to be queer, all the mental puzzle pieces clicked into place. (I feel as though I should interject here and sing the praises of butch lesbians for the wonderful, beautiful beings that they are. That’s just not an identity I have ever associated with myself, therefore it took me some time to understand that one could be a lesbian without also being perceived as masculine.)

Once I came out to myself (thanks in no small part to the Spashley and Otalia ships, as well as the movies Blue Crush and Bring It On) and started dating my first girlfriend, there was really no looking back. I finally understood the butterflies my friends talked about when referencing their first kisses with their respective boyfriends. It was with SO MUCH relieve that I realized I was neither crazy nor broken….just gay!

I still live just outside of my old college town, working as a nurse. My beautiful wife, who had her own coming-out struggles involving her very Mexican/Catholic family, is working as a local high school teacher. Every day that I wake up and get to live life alongside the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, I thank my lucky stars that I found the courage to accept and live my truth.

Lesbian

Ive know I was apart of the LGBTQIA community from a very young age. Its been interesting trying to figure out who I am as a individual and how I identify. Growing up as a twin, had its own impacts which affected how I see myself in ways some people don’t understand. While coming to the realization that I was attracted to women, allowed me to have my own voice separate from my twin which was definitely something different. We were seen as one, like most twins are especially if they’re the same sex. But coming to the realization and coming out are two different situations. As well as realizing it and accept it. It was a struggle for me at first to accept it because no one asks to be “different” especially when people are hated for it in some places. My home situation was the best anyone could ask for but the people i grew up around weren’t the most open minded. In my case, I was petrified of what others would think rather than my family because I knew regardless my family would love me but would i still be the same person to the people who were my friends. The beliefs I had made me suppress the feelings for a while but then high school started. My high school experience gave me much anxiety during the first year because I had accepted it by then but i didn’t know if i was ready to be out. The first year of school forced me to be the best “straight” me, so i could connect with others, but not fully show the real me. At this time I was still suppressing a party of me regardless of what anyone said. Id get asked often if i was gay because i’m not the most feminine girl but i refused because the concept of talking about it was never there. My best friend at the time didnt even know and she would often try to get me to tell and it just didnt happen. I was genuinely terrified. Freshman year had just ended and I had been watching a lot of youtube videos on coming outs for inspiration. It had become so physically and mentally exhausting to be in the situation where i’m not being the full me, it felt like I was holding my breath most of the time. i wanted to be me but i couldn’t bring myself to do it so I told myself if my mom asked if i was gay i would just say yes and that would be that, but its not always so easy. My mom had asked multiple times between me maki the decision and me coming out because after a point it became obvious the I wanted to say something but nothing was coming out. Then fathers day came, we went to swim and I was sitting next to my mom in the pool just talking and then question came up. She asked me and I froze. I started to cry and shake my head. She was shocked that I had said yes after denying for so long but she was proud. She was the first person I had come out to, not even my twin sister. A couple minutes later I came out to my sister, then later that night my dad which was harder than I thought it was going to be. I had felt so much relief like a rock had been taken off my chest and it was the best thing i could ask for. They love and support me regardless and thats all I needed. In the next coming weeks I came out to my friends one by one. The deeper the relationship established I did it public while the once that were less intimate I did over text. Although I am out now, i still find it hard occasionally to come out to new people in my life. I don’t think it’ll completely go away but as of right now i’m comfortable with who i am enough to not let others make me feel invalided for who I love. In the fall, i’m starting college in tennessee on a full ride scholarship, and its going to be a ride coming out to my teammates and the other people I meet, but i’m ready for it. Essentially you’re coming out everyday to someone new and its just apart of being who I am and i fully accept that because Im proud of who I am and absolutely nothing will change that.

I am a lesbian.

Hi, I’m Helen and I knew I liked girls to a different level probably in my 7th grade. I knew something was off and fell in love with one of my close friends during high school. At the time I didn’t know the word lesbian (I’m from Cambodia and only knew the word ‘gay’ which I thought can only be use for boys who love boys). So during college I met with my first girlfriend, we met through Facebook. We were together for two years then I broke up with her because I was too scared to get caught and also my parents at the time was forcing me to get married to a guy and I was fucked up inside the head. And I gave in to my parents and agreed to get married at the age of 25. I wasn’t happy, not at all. I lived my life in pretending to be happy. Then I got pregnant and gave birth to a beautiful boy. I got divorced when my son turned 3. I couldn’t stand living with a man anymore. My parents didn’t say anything to me but they are embarrassed that I became a widow. Through all these years I still don’t have the courage to come out. I’m now 28 years old and still living in fear of rejection and judgment from my family if they found out that I’m a lesbian. I don’t know if I will ever be brave to come out. I don’t think I can have a happy ending in this life. This is my story.

Someone who celebrates love.

ever since I was 10 I knew that I liked (but was super picky with) girls and boys. I’m surrounded by people who are absolutely phased at the idea of that, something different, I live in the south (big surprise). “Strange” (queer) people around here receive stares and hatred, not acceptance. What truly hurts my heart though is that these acts of rejection come from my family and friends, the only people i have. I’ve tried so hard to spread the word that things out of the, what our world has established, “ordinary” (aka anything that doesn’t fit in the little cis, straight, “perfect” box) is okay, but people still don’t get it. So I have realized that maybe one day people from where I’m from might understand, and instead of trying to change the mindset of others, I have to FIND a community that will let me in with open arms and warm hearts, which, I can only hope, will be lucky to find someday. The point is that sometimes, finding “your people” is the only thing you can do, which has taken me years to realize. How do you expect people to express their most genuine selves in a world filled with hate? You don’t. This is why things need to change. The only way our world can have a chance for a better future is if we teach love and the power of acceptance for the generations to come. I find hope in knowing that in the future, I WILL find my people, and a refuge in the community of those who do choose to value, accept, and embrace LOVE. knowing this will be my motivation to come out to the world, and even though it may be a while, a happiness found through the “weird, unusual, and absurd” love that is QUEERNESS will most definitely worth the wait. – Iris, 16.

Kalyani

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

There’s a saying in Urdu, “Sitaaron se aagey jahaan aur bhi hai, abhi ishq ke imtehaan aur bhi hai” which means that there are a lot of other worlds beyond the stars other than our own. We still have to face a lot of hurdles on this path of love. And I think that’s exactly how I feel deep in my heart.

My name is Kalyani and I’m from India. I kind of knew I was a lesbian when I was 13. But I was never sure because I always thought a big reason why I wasn’t attracted to boys was because I was sexually abused as a child. So I was confused. I was broken to the point where I completely gave up on life and started using drugs and drinking, hoping that I would somehow magically become “normal” because growing up on India it was always difficult to live my own truth about my sexuality and I wanted to be accepted and loved but I also didn’t want people to judge me for who I was. So I always kept pushing it away and that led to self harm and s*icidal tendencies.
2019 was the definitive year for me. That’s when I decided to take help and started therapy. And it helped me accept myself and love myself. I’m not saying I’ve magically just started appreciating myself but I’m getting there. I’m trying to let go of my past and forgive the people who have hurt me, I’ve reached out to the people I’ve hurt in the process and asked for their forgiveness. I started my food business in 2020 and even though I don’t always make a lot of money, I want to help the Indian LGBTQIA movement on any way I possibly can so that people like us can be heard and accepted and be allowed to live their life without being judged or shamed.