Community Rainbow Waves

Kathy V.

I am a woman who will be 60 next April, so I come from a time and place where expressing to the world, or at least your family and friends, that you are a Lesbian was not accepted by many. I was around 30 (similar to Dominique) when I finally let people know my truth, my identity. It was one of the scariest and most liberating times of my life. I received some backlash from family and friends but the knowledge that I was being honest for the first time in my life and what I gained from that was worth more than what I lost in relationships. That, to me, is what helped me to finally feel like a whole/complete person. Knowing that I may lose a relationship I shared with someone that had meant a great deal to me for many years. But the TRUTH is, the relationship wasn’t honest and without honesty there can be no depth to any relationship.

I have been fortunate to cultivate relationships over the years with people who do accept me for who I am and I do the same in return. Keeping positive people in your life is the key to living the very best you can.

If I had not come out to at least to myself I would have never attained one of the greatest gifts of my life, my relationship with my partner of over 20 years. She was one of the brightest light in my life and because of her I care deeper for others, give more of my time, help other humans that may need a lift in their life, and most importantly view all people equally. She passed away in March 2020 of a long term illess. But even in her struggles with her health, and there were many, she always put others first. I struggle sometimes with the deep loss I feel and it often times overwhelms me for the sweet soul I have lost from my life, my touch stone. But than I realize I must try to help others for that’s what her life was all about. Even on the most difficult of days she would offer to help someone else without complaint. I don’t believe I can express in words just how generous she was and what a wonderful human being.

So I want anyone who is struggling to know, I am here for you. If you need an ear to listen or voice to help find the answers to your questions, I am here for you. I dont’ have all the answers myself, no one does, but I have been through many difficult situations in this life and have many years of experiences from which to pull. I have spoken/counciled others who are strugging with their identity and how to be accepted by others, and more importantly, accept themselves. I just want you to know that if there is a way I can help I am available.

Sunsets on Mars are blue

I’ve always liked science and reading about anything and everything I could. I grew up as a very curious kid, and was mix of sporty and bookworm. I loved structure and the sense of control that sports gave me. But what I was never able to achieve was to be feminine enough to be seen as a traditional girl and of course I was not a boy either. I was once again a dycotomy, and that mix in my gender expression translated for over fifteen years in being a loner. I love learning and as much as reading about society and history makes me passionate, I came to recognize that I had been avoiding knowing about myself, my truth self. For years I tried to model my behaviour and looks to fit into some image others had created of me and I was so thirsty to fullfill, specially what I thought my parents wanted me to be. I admit now that I was scared of the knowledge that was already deep inside me: I liked girls. The simple thought of it felt to me like I was flirting with something that was out of my reach. I tried to numb it during my teen age years until I relapsed into an episode of severe depression. Now I wonder how many years of deep sadness I could have avoided if I had listened to myself instead of letting the outside noise damp my own voice. I have always known I am gay. Proof of that is how many times I had crushes with female superheroes (Hallee Berry as Storm in XMen was maybe my first) and how many times I craved to be more similar to certain strong female figures (like Ronda Rousy). The knowledge was always there, waiting for me to open that chapter of my own life. My self-acceptance felt like washing my worries away while getting soaked in pouring rain: cleansing and comforting. Then came my very first real relationship with some girl I met in college that quickly morphed into a psychologically violent relationship. It still stings to think of myself as an intimate partner violence survivor as well as a sexual assault survivor. I failed to protect myself because I focused on filling an image that wasn’t my own. Now as I work as a therapist and have made peace with my past I wonder, how many other queer kids like me are in a greater danger to be hurt because they feel the need to hide? How many adults grow up as broken humans because they get denied the chance to shine in their own light? I mourn for the queer kid I was. For that little girl who loved sports and to dress like a boy, who loved climbing trees and wanted more than anything to be able to be the red Power Ranger instead of the pink one. I mourn for all the queer kids like me who are still waiting to shine. If one of you is reading this I can tell you, it gets better, you are loved and wanted just as you are. I finally made peace, I am in a relationship sith a wonderful woman who showed me her acceptance and love to my truth self when she looked for sciencey facts that she knew would make me happy to know. Now in my ribs shines my tattoo with the first fun fact she looked for me: Sunsets on Mars are blue.
I am not longer afraid of knowing myself completely: I am a therapist, still love science, I love sports, I still dress a lot of times more masculine. I am a gay woman and proud. I am loved. I am valid. I am wanted. I belong.
So if you are still seeking, still waiting, if you feel alone I tell you this: I got your back, always, I am your family now. You are wanted, you are loved, please keep shining with your own light.

Power in knowledge

I’m 17, and I don’t know myself. Or at least I don’t think I want to know myself. As a child, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to because I didn’t have any siblings (other than a dog). I turned to the media, video games, and fictional characters from TV shows and movies to feel a connection to someone or something. Man, I would sit in front of the TV as a kid and watch these shows where I saw these beautiful people and I would always imagine myself pretending that I was their friend. And as I got older, the same thing happened where I continued enjoying characters. But then around my older teenage years, I realized that maybe it wasn’t an “obsession” with the characters, it was that I really liked them. And I was confused because no one had ever really mentioned this feeling to me, but in my mind, it just made sense. And I’m a relatively athletic person, so I got the whole “tomboy” thing as a kid, so people probably chalked it up to that. But I didn’t. Because, as of recently, I figured out who I was. And while only select people know, it’s cool to like the best of both worlds. Like God must have invented males and females for everyone’s enjoyment, so why not enjoy them both? And I’m lucky to be able to say my parents would be accepting of me, but in a way, I feel like they know, so I have avoided making it a “thing,” because why should they focus on a part of me that’s just who I am? There is no reason. And thanks to many TV shows, like Wynonna Earp and their amazing characters and cast, and movies, and just people in general, they have helped me with who I am.

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

I’m a non binary/genderqueer and I like girls

When I was only eight I realized that I liked girls, I didn’t understand the world like I do now and I didn’t know homophobia in it self. So I told my friends when I was something like 9. At the young age of eleven I decided to tell my mother of what I forced myself to be bisexuality, thinking that if she did not accept my homosexuality she wouldn’t be so mad. I am extremely lucky to be in a very understanding and open minded family. My mom said she was very proud of me to have the courage to speak my truth and to know who I was and accept it at only 11. At about twelve a girl in my class literally screamed that I was gay. I thought I was ready and whenever I would come out to one of my friends, it would this time be as lesbian. For two years I was bullied. I started having panic attacks everyday and I didn’t want to go to school anymore. When it became to overwhelming I thought about hurting myself (and I sometimes still do)… I did once or twice but nothing”extra”. At that point my dad knew I was gay and he helped like my sister who is, herself, an asexual biromantic. I had my friends and family to relate on and went to see a therapist. I’m now better and help a lot of my queer friends come out and know that it ok to be who we are and that we shouldn’t be ashamed. For a while I thought I was genderfluid and soon I realized that I felt like using they/them pronouns all the time. It felt right. Although it wasn’t easy understanding the gender confusion I was going threw, people were there and they had my back. I felt safe. I now use the term non binary/genderqueer and the pronouns they/them & she/her. All of that said I am only going to turn 15 in a few months and I still have a lot to learn and emotions to go threw. I am extremely lucky to be surrounded by open minded people. I know some don’t have that particular luxury. And I want to do everything in power to help them.

I hope my story will make a difference somehow. Love and know that you are not alone.

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.

I am still unsure about this part. Still figuring it all out! All I know is that I am not straight.

I think there had always been a little niggle in my mind, something that told me perhaps I was different. I had crushes on guys when I was a teenager, but I think a part of me was always drawn to girls. I briefly wondered whilst at university, when I had a so-called ‘girl crush’ on a member of my cricket team, but someone explained it away by saying that all girls had them at times and it didn’t mean anything romantic. Over the years, I’ve had guys express an interest in me and even ask me out, but I always felt awkward and embarrassed, and ended up not speaking to them again. I just thought it was because I didn’t feel the same way, that I wasn’t attracted to them in return.

So, I dismissed it. Until it starting happening more often over the years. I found myself drawn to women – in real life, on TV, in films – more often than not. Yet it wasn’t until a few months ago, at the age of 32, that I seriously started questioning it. It was whilst living abroad, alone, away from my family and friends in the UK, that I started to think about it – consciously – and had nobody to really speak to. I had never had any friends who were part of the LGBTQ+ community growing up, and nobody ever really spoke about it. It wasn’t until I watched three separate TV shows (Glee, Atypical, then finally Wynonna Earp) in the space of a few months that I realised that I definitely wasn’t straight. Wynonna Earp, in particular, helped me come to that realisation and consolidated what I had begun to suspect, and I will be forever grateful that I discovered the show when I did, to the writers, directors, and cast for their genuine portrayals of the characters and the way this helped me figure out the truth after so many years.

I eventually broached the idea with my dad and a friend when I went back home for another friend’s wedding in February, but it wasn’t until last week (May, 2020) that I finally told my parents over the phone that I was almost certain that I was gay. And they were so supportive, said that they just wanted me to be happy, and they had always been worried that I would be alone forever given my apparent disinterest in dating guys. It didn’t matter to them with whom I found that happiness. And, really, nobody was surprised. Perhaps they knew all along and it just took me longer to figure out…

A part of me will always look back over the years and regret not finding myself earlier. But then I think I can finally look to the future and find my happiness, wherever it may lay and with whomever it may be. My dad has always said things work out the way they are meant to in the end, and I’m beginning to believe that may be true.

I live life my way

Hello, my name is Maria G. I come from a Catholic home. I am the second of three sisters and one brother (the youngest). I had a frustrating adolescence when I wanted to open the closet door. Although my family was not homophobic, I was afraid to face it. Since I was 9 years old I focused on sports (archery and athletics) it helped me a lot, it was my escape, my work, my everything, it kept me busy, traveling, meeting people, socializing but I never dared to open up to anyone. The first person I told was my sister Carolina the 3rd she was 18 years old and I 26 Wow! However I am one of those who thinks that our life, we should manage it ourselves, not because I won’t tell people it wasn’t “free”. Before coming clean with me I tried to have boyfriends, but not to pretend anything with my family, but because I had the need to be loved, to have someone give me love, affection, since in my home it was a constant and resounding fight. I had 3 boyfriends between 15 and 19 years old that didn’t last 3 months and I hid from them because I didn’t really feel anything, but it was nothing hahaha…
At 23 years old I came out of the closet when I started playing handball. It turns out that there were two sides there, the Heteroes and the Gays. I was very innocent, I only realized which side I was on after I came out of the closet. I started to get to know my teammates, I adapted easily to the team, although I am introverted and I usually integrate well with people. Well on the 2nd side, the Gays were wondering if I was or wasn’t hahaha… one of them started to seduce me this little flower showed its colorful petals… at first it was like an internal struggle to accept me. The worst thing that happened to me during this time, was once I took this “friend” home, my father was traveling with my brothers, only my mother was home, she had a foot in a cast from a fall. It was already late, I assumed that my mother was asleep, the door to my room was between open because my parents did not like us to close the doors of the rooms; my “friend” and I began to kiss, suddenly I heard a noise outside, we separated immediately, I got up, checked and saw my mother “asleep”. I went to bed, nothing else happened, everyone slept, but my head was turning, the next morning my suspicions were confirmed, my mom was acting strange, she avoided me, I did the same and I went with “my friend” to the university. In the afternoon my mother called me and told me that if I could go home early she needed to talk to me. I got home at 5pm and there she was waiting for me to talk… wow! My heart was pounding into a hole in my chest, it was pounding that I thought it was going to come out. We sat down, she told me what she saw and asked me the question, not before telling me that she was going to accept whatever decision I made, that I was her daughter and she loved me above all things, my heart was beating stronger and stronger, there was a silence, she was waiting for my answer, everything was going through my head, I felt nauseous, Dizzy, it was a horrible moment I thought hours had passed, but not a minute had passed, and the moment my mouth was going to pronounce a YES I am Gay, I changed my answer and said NO, I was confused, my mother looked at me, knelt down in front of me, grabbed me by the legs and said these words: Thank you God, because I thought I had lost my daughter. Wow! At that moment I was in shock. Even though she told me she loved me above all else, the fact that I had confirmed to her that I was gay was going to destroy her inside, and my father had already done too much damage for me to sink her any further. The days went by, although I continued with my friends, I didn’t bring anyone else into the house, I stayed out of the house. These words marked me forever, even today. After telling my sister Carola, I told my father years later, it didn’t cost me anything to tell him, my father was more open with me than my mother was. After that I have not told anyone else. I have always been an independent person, I have made my life to my liking, in my own way, although my family has been a great support, I have always made my own decisions about each of the steps I take, I have never consulted anyone about anything, I only comment when I have made the decision, I do not like that they interfere or manipulate what I want, so that is why I decided to make my life without caring what they think or say. When I was 25 I moved from the West to the East of the country, I left because a handball team signed me to play with them. I had a freedom that I had never felt before, I lived alone, already graduated from Lcda in Education, without rules, without tense looks, new faces, another culture, less reserved, it was a 100% change, that was coming out of the closet. I began to experiment, imagine it when I was 26 years old. At the age of 27 I met a girl 7 years younger than me, through sport her name is Rosme and was my first serious relationship, my first partner as such! We lasted 4 years, after a year of relationship we got married, it was a ceremony on the beach, but it was because of Santeria, native beliefs of the region. After a year and a few months she got pregnant, not from me in that we agree hahaha… it was a strong situationeee the day I found out it was from comics. She started with pain in her belly and we went early to the doctor, the doctor attended to her and I stayed in the office but withdrew, so that the doctor did not see my face when she gave me the news; the doctor made the echo and asked me: what are you of her? Immediately I answer: her cousin, not to hide it but so that she could not see my face. The doctor said: She is only pregnant, she is 3 months old… my jaw hit the floor and Rosme covered her face with her hand, I took a deep breath, I controlled myself, I thanked the doctor for her attention and I left the office with a cloudy mind. Rosme came out behind me, not knowing what to say, so she spoke to me and I told her: don’t say anything, please, the only thing I’m telling you is not to have an abortion, have the baby and if you don’t want it, I’ll adopt it, but don’t kill it, because then I’ll hate you all my life. We continued walking, we arrived home, I asked him for space, to let me breathe. She had no one else to support her, so I took responsibility. I had always wanted to be a mother, but since I don’t like men, I didn’t have money for an artificial insemination. I told her I only supported her because of the baby, if it was a boy, but I made it a condition that she would not separate me from the baby, that she would allow me to be part of her life for ever. The child’s father only gave her his last name, since he was a married man. When he was born it was like that light that completely fills the void, it was an inexplicable happiness, it was an angel, it is my angel. Rosme asked me to forgive her, with time and the pregnancy I forgave her, we continued together, she asked me to name the baby: his name is Gabriel Moses. From his first day he illuminated my life, seeing him was the most beautiful thing God could create. Wow! I became a mother, I worked, trained and raised Gabriel, who I did not love, so when I was able to take him out for a walk I took him everywhere, whether it was the three of us or just him and me. I felt complete. Later Rosme and I separated, at the beginning of the breakup it was horrible the treatment, although Gabriel practically raised him, she was very absent “experimenting”, with the passage of time she stabilized got a good person and our treatment was improving especially for the good of Gabriel, for his stability. Today Gabo is already 10 years old, I can say that he is a wonderful, noble child, he is my life. After my relationship with Rosme 7 years ago, I had two more relationships but they were not lasting. I believe that with Rosme I learned a lot, I matured a lot and my self-esteem was reinforced a lot. Today I don’t have a partner but I am calm and emotionally stable. Although it takes a lot to be loved, it takes more to love yourself to feel fulfilled.

Lesbian

I came out when I turned 18 and finished high school. I posted this on my blog for the whole world to see:

I like girls. It seems very easy to say, but it wasn’t for me. Just like many people will say it isn’t. But I’m ready now, ready to be who I really am. No more hiding.

I’m 18 now, but I’ve known for a few years. There are a few reasons why I haven’t told anyone yet and I am still unsure wether this is the best way to do so, but here it goes.

I wanted to resist that I should have to stand up for it. It came so normal for me and I didn’t think it was fair that I would have to justify myself for who I love. I might have hoped that it would become clear by itself.

Another reason was school; I was in a not very accepting school and I was already not accepted by the other students. I didn’t feel safe enough to open myself up. So I waited until I graduated and gave myself this summer to finally be honest with myself and all my friends, family and acquaintances.

The idea to go to Pride was a natural choice, because I think it is so important and I really could use it. I have felt so accepted this weekend, by everyone around me on Pride and it really helped me. The self-confidence of others radiated to me and through that energy I eventually found the courage to express myself. I will always be grateful for that. It were not only strangers who helped me, but also my closest friends who supported me enormously and gave me a lot of love, so that I now dare to be truly proud of myself and who I really am.

First Clue… Crush on the Flying Nun

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.

Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.

First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.

Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.

Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.

Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.

Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.

Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!

Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…

Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.

Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”

Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”

There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.

I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.