Community Rainbow Waves

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.

Sweet Queer Missy

I knew I was a bit different in high school when my friend had her first boyfriend. I realized I was jealous he got to be her the way I wanted to be with her. This really scared me, and I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I tried dating as many boys as possible to prove nothing was wrong with me. When I went away to college I was blessed to discover an LGBT group on campus. I started going to meetings and became friends with other people like me. I met my first girlfriend shortly after, and experienced my first heartbreak when she broke up with me for a guy. After college I had another stage where I became scared and confused because I found myself attracted to a guy, to a trans woman, feminine women, and tomboys. After seeing sooooo many people now not afraid to live their truth, I am finally comfortable in my own skin and being my true self. I like the term queer because it says I am open to love. I don’t know who that may be with……man, woman, gender fluid…..but I am open to it. Love is love. Thank you to everyone out there shining a beacon of hope for others.

Lesbian (experimenting with the idea of the term queer)

I realised I was a lesbian right after ending my first ever “relationship” (with a boy). Because of the lack of lesbian representation on the media, SPECIALLY in Spain (where I’m from and live), I never really knew that that was and option. It wasn’t until I was 14 or 15 that first week after the breakup that I started watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix. I instantly knew that was me I was watching on the screen. For the first time I didn’t feel like I was broken and unable to love or be loved.

I came out to my cousin via a song I found on YouTube months after (cringy… I am fully aware) A year later I came out to my grandma, which was my everything at the time, and the response couldn’t have been worse. It pushed me back into the closet for another 6 months. After I gathered the courage I came out through text to my mom, dad and two older brothers. They were all amazing at the time but apparently either my cousin or my grandma had told the entire family months before.

They were extremely disappointed in me and honestly it hasn’t been easy at all. My family has one of the most toxic dynamics I’ve ever seen.

I’m just happy I have found peace and comfort knowing exactly who I am and what I stand for.

Hoping to move out in a couple of years to NY and pursue my filmmaking career.

Can’t wait to see what the world has planned for this ragging homosexual to be honest.

Sending my love to anyone that needs it, you are not alone.

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

Under The Same Sky

Salaam from your kazah nomadic wanderer, who finally has found her place in Turkey.

Please do not blame me for my pretentious greeting, it is only a slight whiff of those feelings and sensations that live in my heart (in positive tone, of course 🙂

The overemotional part of me, having overcome the thorny path of finding myself, looking back, can say with a big smile on my lips that it was a long way back and really hard.

There is no greater happiness than being yourself. To be able to breathe freely and not be afraid to confess your feelings to someone who excites your soul so much that your heart skips a beat every time you catch a familiar face on the rearview mirror of your car.

You can deceive everyone around you for an endless time, and sometimes play this role so convincingly that you begin to believe it yourself.

But even so, no one has the right to judge you. Because no one else knows what you went through or are still going through. Only you decide how to live: rise up and fly high in the sky freely, like a bird, or sit in a dusty closet, where it is dark and damp. This is your choice. There are different circumstances and everyone has their own reasons.

I am 33 years old, I am from Kazakhstan and I am a lesbian.

I have always known about my orientation since kindergarten. But even when I grew up and went to elementary and then high school, even after I entered the adolescent phase, I never spoke openly about myself. Never to anyone. At University, there was a moment when I told my friend about my orientation and she stopped communicating with me. Then I decided to just not stand out from the crowd and be like everyone else. Just like the others.

We live among people who are so used to putting labels on everyone and everything that if someone doesn’t live up to their expectations or does not meet their ideas of “normality”, they immediately turn into outcasts.

We live in an environment where society sets the rules and dictates what is “normal” and what is”abnormal”.

We live in a World where money and status have become more important than the mental health. Where real life and colors of nature are erased in the glossy pages of social network. Where the individuality and uniqueness of individuals are distorted under the forced images of imaginary saints.

This is how we live. I lived in such an environment, socialized with such people and tried so hard to match their scale of normality that I began to lose myself. After a while, I didn’t know where I really was, and I couldn’t tell my real self from the image I had created for the public.

Yes, I had a cool job with a high salary. Yes, I had “friends” with whom I spent time, had fun and talked about abstruse topics. Yes, guys were interested in me, asked me out on dates and even confessed their love. Hoy, but I wasn’t interested. So yeah, I really thought I was asexual 🙂 And I didn’t have the most important thing – happiness.

I was just a pale reflection of other people’s emotions and feelings, and deep down I was always alone. Loneliness and I became best friends. During the day I put on my loneliness like a shirt, and during the long cold nights it wrapped me like a plaid. When my circle was celebrating holidays and having fun to the fullest, there were none of those faces who knew the real me. Nobody. The saddest thing is to feel completely alone when you are surrounded by people. This is the price of your obedience.

I was unhappy. How can you be happy if the light of your soul is muted, and there are no colors in the palette that you would like to paint the canvas of your life with?

Until I met Her. An unexpected meeting on a sunny autumn day that turned my whole world upside down. Our friends thought we were just colleagues. Our families thought we were just friends. I don’t know what I was to Her, but to me, She is my favorite topic of conversation with the Heavens for all eternity. No, I am not religious. I just believe in miracles, in the rainbow unicorn and in Sailor Moon 🙂

For the first time, I felt what it was like to be truly happy. And then I didn’t want to and couldn’t live the way I had before I met Her.

I found wings to soar above the images of public opinion about “normality.” I got my voice back to say: “Hey, I’ve had enough of this shit! (pardon my French). Now, I will be myself”. I found the will to change my life and live in full colors. I accepted myself and found freedom. Yup, the number of acquaintances and friends has decreased. But the PLUS is that the atmosphere has become friendly.

Maybe your feelings will be one-sided or vice versa, you will be among the lucky ones who reciprocated (woohoo, congratulations dude!). Or maybe you haven’t met your soulmate yet and you’re not in a relationship right now. It is all right, sooner or later you will catch your wave 🙂

After all, to be able to openly talk about your feelings, about yourself and your dream means to have equal rights.

Equal rights to be yourself, to love and not to be afraid that you will come under the pressure of public hatred for WHO YOU ARE.

Someone will understand you and support you, someone will turn away and stop communicating with you. It is OK, everything will be fine. You are not alone! Here WE are, your rainbow soulmates 🙂

I am not asking for special treatment. I am just asking for equal treatment. To live. To be who I am. To love..

Sometimes words just aren’t enough to describe all your love. Sometimes a smile just isn’t enough to express that love. Hiding my feelings in a veil of lies, I don’t understand what is real and what is fiction. I choose to live under the same sky and enjoy a sunny day, speak openly, smile in front of everyone and hug when it snows or walk next to my loved one in the rain.. Always in this way.

When you are really happy, your soul shines so brightly that your heart becomes so warm. It is like you can embrace the whole World!

Na’vi from the planet Pandora greet each other with “I See You”, which means “I see the real you, not what you seem” (thank you, James Cameron). I see into you. And I understand you. Guys, I SEE YOU! Let’s be kind to each other. Let’s make a better World for you, for me, for ALL of US!

One meeting can change your life. One voice can change the World. One good thing can change Everything.

Be yourself. Be free. Be happy.

Much love and “may the Force be with you”!

#underthesamesky

Bisexual

I always knew early on that I was different. I knew that I liked people and not gender. And that I Katie McGrath for more than her acting. But growing up I couldn’t always accept that, I grew up in a Christian society and though they weren’t anti-gay it still seemed scary. Then my brother came out as gay and I watched my mother struggle for years with her faith and love for him. And I didn’t want to be a burden, I was already extremely bullied for a lot of things and didn’t want to add one more to the list. It wasn’t until freshman year that I openly said the words “I’m bi” and that was only to my friends. It was nice to have a place where I could be me and open and happy, but then I would go home and where the “straight mask” again and that grew so tiresome. Then I moved away from that school to go live in the south which terrified me because of the rumors. My brother new that I was Bi and helped me be not so scared. But my next school wasn’t so bad. I found people like me who were out and pround and I even came out to a couple family members. I just became a senior in higb school and I haven’t told my mother yet, but I’m not scared to do it anymore. I just want my moment to be mind. And when it is I will be fearless!

Anonymous

i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.

ELIAS

I now am a proud trans* man but the journey to get there has been rough. I remember always feeling like I wasn’t a straight cisgender girl, but I also remember thinking if I ignore it, it will go away.
At age 14 I first saw a lesbian couple on screen. That gave me so much representation and feeling like I wasn’t alone. It really motivated me to come out as gay.
Two years later or something I like that I stumbled upon my first ever representation of a trans* man and I was so shocked to learn that trans* man existed. That may have been like that, because (especially in german/Austrian media) they only show trans* woman and they mostly do it for the sole reason to mock the community so I wasn’t really fond of that.
At the time I saw a trans* man in media for the first time I thought to myself I may be gender queer. I identified as gender queer for two years, before I came to the conclusion, that I myself was a trans* man. I’ve been out and proud as a trans* man for a little less than two years now (July 2020) and it was the best decision I could have ever made. I feel so much more like myself.
And to make it easier for people who might feel the same way I am fighting for more trans* (especially trans* male) representation in the media. You are not alone!

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

Gayer than a fruit loop, but too young to love.

I first started questioning my sexuality when I was 11. My grandma had just passed and I was severely depressed. I realised that I liked dressing more masculine, and in what I know see was a way too hide that I was gay, I decided that I was probably trans. I started going by the name Sam and started wanting to cut my hair. I even tried to bind my chest (in very unsafe ways) and I thought that I was depressed because I had gender dysphoria. After about a year I realised that I was just really fucking gay. So, I decided to lived my truth in a very homophobic school and it was the best choice I ever made.

I started coming out at twelve by mentioning it slightly in conversations, mostly by denying attraction to boys rather than admitting my love for women.

This year i turned 15 and after two gay relationships and after being out for three years Im still uncomfortable with my sexuality. I hate to say it and I wish it wasn’t like that, but my class mates and and the society we live in has pushed the ‘predatory lesbian’ stereotype on me for so long that it’s hard to forget.

I’ve recently decided that I will try to wear my pride bracelet in a way of showing who I am with out having to say something. And most importantly it serves as a small reminder for me that, no matter what my classmates say, being gay is 100% okay and that I’m so fucking proud of being a part of this community.