Community Rainbow Waves

Chris. P.S. Believe in yourselves. Dream. Try. Do good. -Mr Feeny

Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)

At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!

That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)

Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.

My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.

My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)

I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.

I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?

I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?

I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.

Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?

Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?

Not straight

I’m Katelyn, I’m 14 and I live in small town Louisiana. In 2016, I was 11. This show that my great aunt told me to watch was called supergirl. And supergirl was the first show I had ever seen, as a 4th grader, that had a gay character. Alex Danvers was always my favorite even before she came out. I didn’t want to tell anyone but when she came out I liked her a lot more, and I didn’t know why. At that time I still was convinced I liked boys. I had a “boyfriend” if you can even call it that in the fourth grade. I was not fully aware of lgbtq+ people. My parents never hid it from me but didn’t talk about it directly. My dad’s best friend is a lesbian and had girlfriends and all but I didn’t fully understand what that meant. Until I watched supergirl and I watched as Alex struggled with her feelings and eventually came to terms with it. I continued to watch supergirl religiously until like sixth grade. At this point i had different boyfriend. The only reason I have ever had boyfriends is bc everyone around me began having crushes and boyfriends. I never really liked the boys i dated more than a friend. One of which was my best friend. He said he liked me and asked me out. I felt so nervous and pressured that he would become upset if I said no so I said yes. It was awkward holding his hand or sitting close to him. And when people asked if we were dating I get uncomfortable answering. One day in social studies, my teacher moves me to a table with three other girls all of which were very friendly and funny. We would talk all the time during class and the teacher didn’t care. The girls who sat next to me was my favorite. We became really close in class, but would not talk outside of class because w each had our own friend group. In class one day we cheated together on a test and we sat extra close and we giggled the whole time. She grabbed my hand and I get a rush of nerves I strike inside of me. All of a sudden I had butterflies in my stomachs. I assumed it was because I really wanted her as a friend and we were just becoming really close. So every day we would sit really close and hep each other with work and laugh and y’all and the butterflies were always there. And every once and a while she would touch my arm and I get like I was melting. One day in line for class she made a gay joke at me and I didn’t laugh or smile. I still had never realized that I was attracted to her. She asked “hey, what’s the matter? Wait are you gay?” She whispered respectively in my ear. I stood silent for a while, pondering on what she had said. “I think so.” I said. I didn’t know why I had said it I had never even thought it before she asked. She put an arm around me and said “that’s chill, I don’t really care man sorry for joking about it.” And that was that, I had just come out to someone. And honestly I was ok with it. I had never felt any internalized homophobia or anything like that I never felt ashamed either. One day she asked me if I was okay with telling people. I didn’t see an issue so I said ya tell whoever you want I don’t care, just don’t tell my twin sister (only cause she would tel my family and I wasn’t ready for that. They are accepting and all I just wasn’t prepared at the moment and I’m still not ready). So she began telling her friends who would then come up to me and ask if it was true and I would nod. I went to a private catholic school and surprisingly never faced homophobia. They were all really interested seeing as how most of them had never known or met a gay person before. I became kind of popular. Until people wanted to know how I figured it out, like who I had a crush on. I didn’t want to say it was my best friend so I made up and answer. I chose the prettiest, sweetest girl in my grade. We never talked much but when we did she was very kind and quiet. Everyone believed me. I said don’t gel the girl because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. After a couple of months of telling people I liked this random girl, I began to really notice how pretty and nice she was. My best friend was moved away from me in class and we began to talk less because of it. I began to have feelings for the girl I pretended to like. That girls best friend who was known as a blabber mouth, had been really nice to me and wanted or know who I liked. I told her not to tell the girl and that was the first thing she did. The girl I lied about, and was beginning to have feelings for stopped talking to me. She wasn’t mean about it she just felt uncomfortable which I understand. But it hurt. She wouldn’t even look at me when I spoke in class and avoided me in the lunch line. In seventh grade I eventually realized I was in love with her. I became really really attached to her and I get like crying every time she glanced at me and quickly turned away. Near the end of seventh grade she began to talk to me more and she became more adjusted to my reality. On the one year anniversary of coming out she was the only person, including myself, who remembered and she wished me happy one year. I cried that day. I then realized something devastating, I was going to a different school then the rest of my grade was the following year. They were going to our schools sister school and I was going to a public school. The last day of school I cried so hard. I thought about her everyday of my life until I started my new school. I found out one of my friends was hi and we bonded over that. I get more comfortable in my feelings and sexuality and I eventually graduated from my feelings for that girl. I was free from the burden of obsession I had locked myself into because of the freshness of my emotions. I feel I now, at 14, have a clearer and healthier relationship with my sexuality and I am ok. I’m good and I’m as happy as I can be. I am gay, and I’m ok with that. Girls are pretty, what can I say.

The Sovereignty

Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.

And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.

I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.

After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.

Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.

I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”

Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”

Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.

When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.

So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;

The age of love is short, there is no limit to oblivion… But this is the value of love.

Since childhood. But the awareness and acceptance of self came at a more conscious age. Now I am happy about it. I have been living with my beloved person for several years now and the most wonderful thing for her is that I was a discovery of her sexuality and an opportunity to realize that the world is not only black and white. I live in Russia, the country that patience and understanding of such I am not very different, here still slips the foundations of the past, and there is probably a disadvantage in this, but there are a lot of people like me who are gradually me attitude towards us)

Gay

I forced myself to have a crush on a boy because everyone else had one so that’s what I did. Little did I know that I was crushing on girls that were older than me and I didn’t even know it. I thought it was normal to feel that way so I never thought anything of it. I was always nervous and my face would always fluster because I was attracted to them. I remember when I was in 7th grade someone had asked me what my sexuality was and at that time I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t even know what gays and lesbians or even being bi was. So when I told them I was bi I didn’t really know what it meant so I just stuck with it. But a few days after that they ended up telling my whole class that I was bi. Every second that I had I denied everything because I was so scared of what people would think about me or if they would treat me differently. I was in a catholic school so it was never normal or shown so I denied every second of it. Until I moved schools and I saw diversity and I found out what sexuality was. That’s when I actually noticed that I was paying more attention to the girls rather than the boys. I made up what I thought were real crushes with boys and then I started realize that I liked girls the entire time. But of course I was always in denial of it. I even went online to take the ‘am I gay quiz’ I took so many of them, every single one of them came out positive. Even after all that I denied it I didn’t want anything to do with it because I was scared of it.
I remember one day my mom was taking me to soccer practice and she ended up talking to me about labels. And she started explaining to me about how my older sister thought that she was gay and that putting labels on things is what makes it become real. It sounded like my mom knew about me and basically told me I was full of crap for thinking the way I was even though I hadn’t told her anything about me. At this time I had a girlfriend and everything so I just brushed that conversation off. But but it made me feel insecure a little bit. It made me feel like I was stupid for falling for a girl and that it was fake like it was child’s play. So I hid my relationship the best way I could publicly and at home. I never really came out to my mom but now I’m growing into it and finally accepting myself for who I am. And it makes me shine brightly and especially to know that I wasn’t alone in this, that other people had been going through the same thing I was or am.

My Name Is Gabi

I knew I was part of the lqbtq community when I was in fifth grade I Started to catch feelings for my girl best friend. People always Asked me “Gabi are u Bisexual” My anwser was always no I felt like no one would support a couple of months later I decided to come out to friends yes I lost some friends but it’s better to be ur self than I thought I have a huge community that supports me my friends support and love me that why I appreciate Them Soo much.

Lesbian

When I realised I had feelings for a close friend and freaked out. At that time, I already had another friend come out to me as bisexual so I knew that there was hope of me still being normal even though I was not straight.
I was forced out of the closet after I tried giving a family member some advice who then outed me to their homophobic parents. They threatened to tell mine unless I told them first.
I hope we can continue to spread love and acceptance to all and that we’re able to create more safe spaces. Thank you all for the work you do

Ainiz

I remember the first time I saw two girls kiss in a show. I was 12 and it was the show Heroes. I was so shocked but at the same time I was like “omg that’s so cute”, I started seeing love differently 🙂

I was in 10th grade, I had never had feelings for a guy and I was starting to question if I was asexual because the whole idea of being with a man scared me BUT then I started having feelings for this girl in my class (that then became my best friend) but I was always pushing those feelings away thinking it was nothing and it was a “phase”, I was kinda scared of love let alone the fact that I could have feelings for a girl. I never said anything about it.

Then I failed 10th grade and went to an art school to study music and that’s when it got REAL! Once I got there everyone was extremely welcoming and open! It was totally different! I started crushing on a girl from my class again the thing was that my best friend was also crushing on her AHAHAH we were fine tho she was really cool about it so I was like “okay dude.. maybe you’re bisexual????”. I decided to tell the girl that I had a crush on her and she ghosted me… it was my very first heartbreak and it sucked :'(

I came out ONLY to my friends as bisexual and then…. I started crushing on another girl (what I learned from all of this is that I fall for people way too easily ahaha).

This girl was like THE girl like everyone knew her and had a crush on her so I was like “I’ll just wait for the feelings to go away” but…. we became best friends too… smh this crush lasted 2 years!!! and I NEVER said anything but it was getting obvious so I told her. She seemed really cool and okay with it and I was really happy but then.. she started talking less to me.. she would push me and my real best friend away from each other and I was just trying to still be friends with her. It became EXTREMELY toxic so I left the group.

I eventually came out to my uncle (who is my dad basically cause my actual dad passed away) and it just came in the conversation and he didn’t even have a reaction, he was totally fine with it and it felt like something was lifted off my shoulders.

During all of this I also realized that I was most likely gay and I felt more comfortable with gay but I’m also not a big fan of labels so now I just say that I’m queer

I came out to the rest of my family in an Instagram story HAHAHAH I drew a rainbow and just came out HAHAHA. I am lucky enough to have a family that supports me and doesn’t care about my sexuality (even tho there’s always those people that make ALOT of questions about it) but yeah.

This is my story and I am one of the lucky ones, I was also very lucky to be in slightly luckier generation (I’m almost 19). There’s alot more representation nowadays but some of it is still not being portrayed the right way and we need to keep fighting for that!

Thank you for letting me share my story and I hope it helps someone somehow!

I don’t label/identify. I’m a girl who tries to be confident with being me every single day.

I came out to my family in a three page word document in 2006 or 2007. It felt easier than face to face. To this day I still express myself better or shall I say more openly, more honestly, and more in depth via typing, texting, writing. Honestly, After coming out to my family back then, I spent many year’s slowly coming out to people. Through college, through work, etc. I knew most people knew, but there is a huge difference in assuming someone knows and informing them yourself. I can’t recall the last time I “came out” to someone. Now I guess I “come out” in different ways. I don’t explain things or nervously back into it. I will just say this is my ex wife, my girlfriend, my kids other mom. Sometimes I still feel uneasy but generally I’m adapting much better. It took me over 10 years to finally take a chance on cutting my hair short like other friends had and like how I, I repeat “I”, wanted it. I not only love it, but it has created even more confidence.

I have supportive friends, family and coworkers. There will always be people who judge, but I would consider myself to be one of the lucky ones.

Christine H.

When it comes to coming out, there is no such thing as “too late.”

For me, the time came during my sophomore year of college (only two years ago, though it feels like a distant lifetime ago now). Up to that point, I’d scarcely given a thought to my sexuality, let alone my gender. Sure, I’d had friends who’d come out as bisexual and/or nonbinary, I’d had 3 a.m. conversations with these friends about gender and related topics, and I supported those friends and tried to learn about the LGBTQ+ community as best I could, but as far as I knew, I was a cisgender heterosexual guy, and that was that.

Except, of course, it wasn’t.

Coming out, for me, took breaking away from so many of society’s expectations and perceptions of transgender people especially.

In the early months of 2018, the questions started to gnaw away at me, lurking in the back of my mind, ever-present even as I was just trying my best to make it through the rest of the school year in one piece.

Slowly, the questions shifted from “is it possible that I might be a girl?” to “is it okay for me to be a girl?” to “how much do I stand to lose from living my life as a girl?”

As if that struggle weren’t enough, I had to contend with one extra train of thought that complicated matters that much more: “I’m probably a trans girl… but I still like girls.”

There are so many stigmas that society places on transgender people, and what society had taught me was that if you were a trans woman, you had to have figured it out when you were young, you had to be into men, and you had to be as stereotypically girly as possible.

And so I held back. I suppressed as much as I could and tried to go on with my everyday life… until, finally, I couldn’t. The end of sophomore year came, and with nothing else to preoccupy me, the questions drifted back to the front of my mind, and I had no choice but to face them head on.

So, as many of us tend to do in this day and age, I took to the internet looking for answers. Slowly, I started to learn that everything I knew was wrong, and those answers I found smashed through the mental barriers that had held me back.

YES, you can be a trans woman and a lesbian. YES, you don’t have to figure out these things so soon in life. YES, you don’t have to adhere to society’s expectations. YES, you are valid.

By the end of May, I’d come to terms with my transness, though the goals I set for myself changed rapidly. At first, I’d thought I would hold back on coming out and transitioning until later in life… before long, that changed to “within a few years,” which soon gave way to “I’ll come out after I graduate.”

Eventually, I realized time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to look back into my past years down the line and see nothing but regret. Living my life as my true self was the only way forward.

And so I started to make plans. I was going to come out by the end of that summer, and nothing was going to stop me.

I planned my coming out meticulously, because I worried endlessly that my parents, my family, wouldn’t accept me for who I am, that they would try to hold on to their perception of me as their 19-year-old son. I needed to be prepared, and so I took drastic measures. I wrote letters, and I made plans to leave them at home one day and then drive away for a few days to give my family time to take it all in, because I was so scared they would take out their emotions on me.

I remember leaving the letters and a poem explaining all the feelings I’d dealt with over the past months one afternoon in early August, and I remember how long that 90-minute drive to the next state over to stay with a friend felt.

It. Was. Terrifying.

My family’s panicked reactions that first night only made me more scared. I remember the frantic yelling over the phone, I remember the shock my family felt, and above all, I remember the fear I felt, with very few things to take my mind off of it. There was a part of me that worried I would never be able to go home again.

But to my relief, things got better. Within a few days, my family came around. I was able to go back home to a family that resolved that no matter what, they would learn, love me and support me (even if there were things they didn’t quite understand — I still remember the confusion in my dad’s face as he realized I was now a girl who liked girls, which, yes, made me a lesbian), and in the year and a half since my coming out, that hasn’t changed.

I’ve had the chance to well and truly find myself, and I am unabashedly proud to be who I am today. I finally feel like the woman I’m meant to be, and I am so much happier for it.

The road to finding yourself can be a long one, and oftentimes, it can be fraught with struggles, both internal and external. But as I look back at who I used to be and think of how much things have changed for the better in my life since then, I firmly believe traveling down that path has been worth it, and I hope that so many more people will get the chance to take that journey in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.