Community Rainbow Waves

My favorite human once called me Real Life Waverly

For almost 18 years, I thought I would never find love because I considered myself as too picky. I thought that I didn’t deserve to be with anyone because I could not give them what people called “love”. I thought I was not interested in anyone and thus, I did not deserve anyone’s love.

The truth is, I was not looking in the right place. Society had taught me that I needed to be with a boy and I had never felt anything for boys ever since I was little. Sometimes, I wondered if I was gay but then I looked around me and I could not find any queer woman I could relate to.

Representation of queer couples on television is the reason why I have been able to figure out who I was and who I loved. I think it is fair to say that Sanvers, a queer couple on the TV show Supergirl, first helped me to figure out my sexuality. I realized I wanted what these two women had. I realized I would love to be in a relationship like this one.

After discovering Sanvers, I was still very unsecured about the fact that I loved girls. I was still closeted.
Then, I discovered that TV show named Wynonna Earp and it helped me even more through this journey to accept who I was. The fact is, I did not only discover an extraordinary queer couple on television, I also discovered an extraordinary woman named Dominique Provost-Chalkley. I found out that this woman was not only a bloody talented and gorgeous woman playing a queer character on television but also a lovely human being defending lgbtq+ rights in many ways. I felt and still feel connected to this woman as I never did with anyone before. She helped me to be proud of who I was and she made me feel heard. She always manages to make me feel special and to make me feel appreciated.

If I am where I am today, it is thanks to representation. That’s why reprensentation matters. I am thankful for all those new queer couples on television. But, of course, I am hoping for more. Where are the queer characters in the cinema industry? I dream of a world where a Disney princess could be with another princess, where a Disney king could marry another king, where a Disney prince could become a princess. I try to be optmistic but I am not sure I will live long enough to see those kind of things happen. We really have to support every art productions giving a fair and beautiful representation to lgbtq+ people and hope that it will bring a new rainbow wave into all the arts.

If I speak up the way I speak up today, it is thanks to Dom because she started this. She said “out is the new in” and well… I really think out should be the new in.

Let’s start the wave to make the world a better place.

Emma.

Queer

Hello!

I’m Brenn and I realized that I was part of the LGBTIQ+ community at the age of 12 when a girl at school started liking me but I also liked children. For the next 8 years or so it wasn’t a conflict that I liked women, the conflict was that there were stages where I only liked men other times only women, sometimes both and other times no one.

I did not understand what was happening to me, until those stages were over and as I educated myself about the diversity that exists I discovered that being Queer was the closest thing to what I feel and how I identify myself.

When I was 21 years old I came out of the closet with my boyfriend at that time as a bisexual because it was the sexual orientation I knew even though I didn’t feel like I belonged there.

Then I came out at 27 with my parents and brother in a situation that I would not have liked to have happened but it brought my nuclear family to know and they understood the whole situation. Plus they were understanding and took it very well.

So I told my friends, some took it well and others walked away.

In general I always felt that I didn’t fit in anywhere but that also helped me to do a lot of introspection and work on myself, which has made me feel happy with who I am and how that projects on others. It’s true that all those years go by in rather dark episodes but the colors came and now they don’t stop shining and they do more and more.

I live in Mexico in a society in which there is more visibility of the LGBTIQ+ community but there is no education about it, so we have a long way to go but with the hope that we are making a change.

Thank you for everything!

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

Closets Are For Clothes

When I first started to recognize my sexuality, I was thirteen years old. I was at the movies and when the lead actress appeared, there was a rush of desire. For the first time, I understood what all the fuss was about – but I knew I had to keep it a secret. I’d grown up in a small town and I’d never met an openly gay woman, but I knew what people thought of them.

That actress was the first in a long line of crushes. I spent so much time daydreaming about those women, and it felt good and right, but I stopped short of imagining myself with a girl.

I couldn’t be a lesbian. None of the lesbians I’d seen in the media looked, dressed, or acted anything like me. This was during the 90s, and I’d internalized a boat load of homophobia. The articles I sought out in teen magazines reassured me. According to them, a lot of girls had crushes on other girls, but it was a phase they grew out of.

Throughout all of this, I was dating guys. I said yes to anyone who asked me but as soon as I had a boyfriend, I’d do everything I could to distance myself. Being with boys gave me a strange, awful, empty feeling.

Later, there was a lot of guilt to untangle about the way I’d treated these guys. Plus, I had a lot of work to do to unlearn the internalized homophobia that had made me so sure I wasn’t gay in the first place.

I went from lying to myself about it, to accepting that it wasn’t going to change. During that time, I promised myself that nobody would ever find out. Then, slowly, I realized that I couldn’t live a full life without being open. I get that it’s not that way for everyone, but I sensed that it would be like that for me.

I inched out of the closet. First, I told my siblings, then my best friends, one parent and then another, gradually other friends and family. My worst fears never came true, but it wasn’t all positive either. There were reactions that hurt like hell.

That was nearly fifteen years ago, and I’m still coming out. It’s true when people say that it never stops, but it’s not hard anymore.

There was a time when I would have done anything to make it go away. If there was a magic pill that could have made me straight, I probably would have taken it.

The fact that the world makes young people feel that way is tragic. Boil it down to its simplest parts, and people who have a problem with LGBTQ+ people just can’t handle difference. They want everyone to be like them, so they can feel that their way of being is the only correct one. That speaks to a deep insecurity and unhappiness.

I love my life. Being gay is a part of me that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’ve got a long-term girlfriend, great friends, a job I like. I still get crushes on celebrities, and it would never occur to me to hide it anymore. Hard-won pride is pretty sweet!

Thompkell (she/her)

I have a vivid memory of walking home from school when I was 13 years old. Where my steady footsteps on the pavement, the soft weight of my backpack, and the gentle warmth of afternoon sunshine created the conditions for my mind to wander to romantic curiosities about one of my best friends – a girl (like me). The memory doesn’t stay with me as a milestone for my first gay thought (which I’m not even sure would be accurate), but it hovers because of the innocence that emerged when I remember telling myself afterwards with a playful shrug – “I’m sure everyone has thoughts like this.”

Whether or not more people ever do feel a pull to kiss their same-sex friends, my experience was that it was unsafe to consider – so forget talk about – that this desire could be any part of my truth. But there was something enchanting about the tension that I then began to experience as I felt called to acknowledge this part of myself.

I had to make a choice.

So instead of pulling myself together – I split and divided core facets of my being to maintain an illusion of a “normal” life and to hide the pieces I was not ready to accept.

The division, as one might expect, led to secrecy and a dynamic where I could only find true happiness in controlled, private, and hidden spaces. Escapism and disconnection. And, as if to further confuse my inherent sense of self and intuition, my friend – who I had imagined kissing – ended up playing in these shadows with me. We “dated” in the later years of high school – a secret we kept from literally everyone else in our lives. But where we were each coming from, at our cores, wasn’t aligned. She would cycle through boyfriends and force a hard separation from our day life and our shadowed life. I started living a life so empty on the surface – craving the time in the shadows – that I became numb to who I was spending time with when it wasn’t her.

I lost my centre.
I lost my own personal sense of who I was since I was craving to exist in the only one place I permitted and allowed myself to connect to what I was truly feeling.

Eventually it became too much to maintain the separation between the two lives. When I had approached her with the confession – that what I felt in the shadows was something I wanted to share with the light – I was met with hostility and denial. This would start a dysfunctional pattern of dismissing my own needs for those I love. How can you develop any sense of confidence in yourself when the person you care about most and feel you can be your truest self with is ashamed of who you are? Can look you right in your eyes, speak directly to your heart and tell you that who you are and what you feel is wrong?

But perhaps the biggest hurt was to realize that we did not feel the same way about what we were experiencing. That the space we had created together was starkly unsafe for me to feel the way I felt.
My world began to collapse.

I had separated an incredibly significant piece of my identity from the rest of my experience, and since I had defined my happiness based on how worthy I was in someone else’s eyes, my core became a void. Who was I? An emptiness emerged from the gaping hole that I had been filling with validation from others – validation I did not recognize I needed to be seeking from myself first. And when the sadness shifted to numbness it became an exceedingly difficult vibration to move out of – especially when fear and shame took control.

Then in the swirl of sadness, shame, confusion, loss, and uncertainty – the emergent realization that maybe I am gay snapped any remaining stability out from under me. To be this way wasn’t safe, especially if my love won’t be reciprocated, wasn’t enough, or was to be used as a weapon to demonize me. I couldn’t trust myself if this kind of happiness also meant so much harm.

But what is a “coming out story”?

I would love to say that this was the lowest point of my life through this journey – but that isn’t the case. I would also love for this to have been the moment that I accepted and acknowledged my place in the LGBTQ2IA+ community – but that isn’t true either. It would take many years to get to where I am today, and maybe I will always be going through the process of coming out and deepening my self acceptance.

What is the case though, truly, is that as I have found more self acceptance, the people in my life and the world (I believe) have also been finding softer hearts and raising their levels of acceptance, awareness, and love – consciously and subconsciously. And I genuinely believe that we will only get better. We will only love more. We will only build on and grow our collective kindness and compassion.

And, at least based on my experience, I deeply believe all of this is possible through the simple, challenging work of each of us turning inwards towards ourselves – first – and lovingly embracing all of who we are.

Change doesn’t need to be a light switch – but trust that lights shine their brightest in the dark.

Thank you for creating this space for us to share. Thank you for starting this wave of change and inspiration. Thank you for your sincerity and courage.
xo

Lesbian

Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.

Mikayla

In retrospect, there were plenty of signs throughout my childhood that proved I wasn’t straight. No, I didn’t just really, really want to be friends with certain female classmates like I thought at the time, I had huge crushes on them. At 13, I consciously made the decision to be an “ally” to my friend whom I thought might be gay. Oh, the irony. Even after taking every available “Am I Gay?” quiz on the internet, my brain managed to maintain the wall it put up to protect my consciousness from the reality of my queer identity. “Reality” involved too many struggles, uncertainties, and judgements that I would’ve had to face once I came out to myself, so I spent years unaware that a part of me had already begun questioning my sexuality. Then, when I was 16, I had a dream that I was dating one of my female classmates. I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night and said out loud to myself, “Shit, I’m gay.” An epiphany. Then, I smiled, so peaceful and happy to finally understand so much of my life from before that moment. Though, the fear eventually set in. I tried so desperately to stay closeted and avoid being a target for the homophobia expressed by my family and classmates that I spent everyday until graduation with the goal of being as invisible as possible. Almost three years later, I’d mostly come to terms with being bisexual and decided to come out to my little sister, step-sister, and best friend. They all accepted me immediately. Then, a few weeks later, the Pulse Nightclub shooting happened in my city and it stomped out all the light of my newfound openness. However, it was never a question that I would eventually come out to everyone I could, but afraid that I’d be disowned, I decided to wait until I graduated college and moved out of my mom’s house to come out to my parents. Things didn’t work out that way though because I was outed to my mother when she found paperwork from my therapist about my sexuality and a few other very serious issues I was seeking help for. I had to officially come out to her in a therapy session after that. She said she loved me no matter what but we haven’t spoken about it in three years. I was less interested in hiding my identity from my Trump-supporting dad since I didn’t live with him anyway. Eventually, he asked me about the pride flag on my keychain so I told him I was bi. He also said he loved me no matter what but that it’s better if I just pick one gender to be interested in (I decided to choose my battles wisely and leave that conversation for another time). He hugged me and said he’d keep my “secret” and we haven’t talked about it in a year. I have spent the last few years living “out” and finding where I belong in the world and among the vastness of the queer community. Most of this part of my journey has been led by Wynonna Earp, its fandom and cast, and Start The Wave, as they came into my life at the most pivotal moments possible and exactly when I truly needed them. The universe, man. And now, I’ll navigate the next steps of my journey to fully living as my authentic self with my brave little sister by my side since she has recently come out to me as bisexual. We got this. To other queer people, you got this, too.

Trans masculine

I first questioned things when I was 5, but a negative reaction from my mother led me to suppress my queerness until I was 17. That was when I tried binding my chest for the first time. It was a life changing experience, and over the past 5 years I’ve continued to explore my gender. Now I can confidently say I am a non-binary man, and I am no longer ashamed of it.

Yes I am, Undo Me and Ghost

My name is Sheelagh. I was born and raised in the Philippines. I grew up Christian with a mixture of Catholicism. My family is well-known in the Filipino-Chinese community. Both sides of the family are well-to-do. My grandparents built a Evangelical church next door because of his faith. Among my family’s businesses, we distributed Christian music in the Philippines. My Christian upbringing was certainly a very important part of my life.

My story begins in Kindergarten. This was the first time I felt the feeling of “being different.” I had a crush on my teacher. The older I got, I would always notice the girls in my class. However, I did not understand any of this. I didn’t know if there was a word to describe who or what I am.

When I was 5th grade, I remember being in a car with my entire family. My older sister asked my parents the pivotal question that kept me in the closet for the longest time. She asked: “What is something your children would do that you would not be able to forgive us for?” After a long pregnant pause, my mom replied, “If I found out one of my four children is gay/homosexual.” I went to the dictionary and found out what the word homosexual meant. Okay, now I had a word to describe who I and what I am. If I come out, my parents will never forgive me for it. I remember thinking to myself, “that’s great. I will just keep this information to myself.”

In 7th grade, I walked into a music store and asked the salesperson if she had any recommendations for me. I wanted something new, alternative and different. She introduced me to Melissa Etheridge. Something in the lyrics of her songs spoke to my soul. I was able to come out to myself and say “Yes, I am a lesbian. Yes, I am a homosexual. Yes, this is who I am.” For years, I went to sleep listening to all her albums at night.

When I was a Sophomore in high school, a friend came out to me. I stopped talking to her after that conversation. I stopped hanging out with her. She eventually left school and went to the US to finish high school. I still feel bad about this. I hurt her because I was not ready to face that part of myself.

My parents were very strict. We were not allowed sleep-overs. We were not allowed to go to parties until we were 18.

By college, I became active with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was at church almost every day of the week. I attended a prayer group on Tuesday. I joined a Bible study on Wednesday. I attended youth group on Friday and Saturday. And I was in church on Sunday.

In 2004, I watched the movie, “Saving Face” starring Joan Chen, Lynn Chen and Michelle Krusiec. For the first time, I saw myself on screen. It was my first exposure to positive lesbian representation on film. I wish I had the courage to say the words, “妈妈，我爱你. 我也是gay.” In English, mama, I love you. I am also gay.” But I didn’t. I was too scared to have that conversation with my family or with anybody. I came out by not coming home one night. I totally regret not having
that conversation but I just didn’t know what to say or where to begin.

Things began to not go well for me after what I did.

My family got me connected with an ex-gay ministry affiliated with Exodus International. I was not allowed to go anywhere by myself. I was driven to Bible study with this group every week. My family started a Bible study at my home. When my family realized that Bible study and family discussions were going nowhere, my mom gave me an ultimatum – change now or leave the house. I was also told that if I left, I would be cut off from the family and disowned.

I chose to leave with my girlfriend at the time. My family hired a private detective and tracked me down. My parents said they wanted to talk to me. When I came to see talk to them at a hotel room, I felt trapped. I felt I was being interrogated and coerced to go the US and think about my actions. This went on for hours until I broke down and said yes. Within less than a week, I was on a plane to Florida. My parents made arrangements that I was going to stay with family there.

After 6 months, my relatives realized that after numerous discussions, things were going nowhere. I was given another ultimatum – change now or go back home. In my mind, I pictured my family was either going to lock me up/throw away the key or I was going to be forced to marry a guy.

Neither scenario was acceptable to me. I thought about what I was going to do. I realized that for me to stay in the US, I needed to give my parents an acceptable proposition. I went online and found that Exodus International had a live-in ministry/program in Wichita, KS. I figured since they want me to consider changing who I am, I think they should pay for my expenses.

I found myself in Wichita. I got accepted into the ministry. I regret my participation (about 5 years) with this organization. The people running the ministry may have good intentions. Perhaps they were concerned about the well-being of my soul. However, there was no social worker on staff or anyone with religious training in their background. I was not allowed to interact with anyone outside the ministry and the church. I was not allowed to listen to music that was not pre-approved. I was not allowed to watch any television that was not pre-approved. For about half a decade, I was asked to not question their authority and just receive their message.

It totally went against everything that I believed in. I always questioned things. This really threw me off for a loop. I feel like I am still suffering from the mind games of being in this program. I went from being comfortable in my own skin to having a complex about who I am.

My only saving grace during this time was Jennifer Knapp’s music. I discovered her music while I was in the program. Her lyrics are so honest and moved me to remain open to God. The song “Undo Me” is my favorite from her album.

Undo Me became my prayer for many years. I went from being comfortable in own skin and not having any issues with my sexuality to praying that God take this away from me. I know the only way to please my family is for God to change me. There is no way I can do it on my own.

Luckily, because my family distributed Christian music in the Philippines, I was able to get all her albums sent to me. Her music gave me life while in that program. Without it, I do not know if I would have survived those years.

When I finally left the program, I was angry at God. I became promiscuous. I stopped caring about my faith. I went on downward spiral for a few years. I put myself in situations that were not healthy or positive. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to me.

Two years prior to meeting my wife, I realized this was not the life I wanted for myself. I stopped going to bars. I stopped having casual sex. I made a promise to myself. I will only consider sharing an intimate moment with somebody who I can see myself being in a serious relationship with.
Luckily, a wonderful and beautiful woman came into my life. She is now my wifey. We have two pugs, a son and a great life together. I have never been happier.

When Adaline decided to help others who have suffered religious trauma, I was excited. I am on this very journey. I need help in this area. Who knew that Ghost would mean so much more than the magic of WayHaught/and the stairs?

However, religious trauma is painful. I have not opened the Bible since leaving the ex-gay ministry. However, amazing human beings out there like Adaline and Jennifer Knapp are giving me hope. Who knew that Wynonna Earp and the community of Earpers will grow into something beyond the show and the fandom?

I am completely estranged from my family. They think the only way I can be acceptable and welcomed into the family is if I marry a guy or stay single/embrace celibacy for the rest of my life. It hurts when we talk because they always ask me how I am doing as if I am unmarried. When I share information about my life they act like I didn’t say anything.

Being part of this community has been a great source of hope and healing for me. I feel so blessed and honored to have read all your stories. Thank you for sharing because you make me feel like I am not alone. Thank you, Dominique for starting the wave. I am so grateful.

It took an almost deadly accident for me to be true to myself

I began to know I was LGBT in middle school but I lived in a very small east Texas town where it was highly frowned upon. I struggled with relationships, trying to date men as society wanted. I never talked to anyone about my feelings towards women except my Mom, and she was always supportive but I was terrified of being rejected by my family, friends and church community.
In my late 20s I became an active cyclist. Riding 20-40 miles each week. Not long after my 30th birthday I went for what seemed like a normal ride on my nearby trail. Instead, I had a severe accident where I flipped over my handlebars onto the road. As I laid in the road unconscious a woman driving by stopped and called 911. I had landed on my head and shoulder. I cracked my helmet in 3 places, broke my collarbone into pieces and cracked my shoulder blade. I was very lucky to be alive and not parallelized.
For me that was a wake up call, I finally decided to be who my heart wanted me to be. I came out to my family one by one, my father took it the hardest, telling me it was a phase. I was told by an aunt to lie and hide who I was, not to share anything on social media so my grandpa did not find out. He denied my marriage to my wife until a few months before he died. When he finally accepted me, my wife and my son, whom he met for the first time.
I have now been happily married for 6 years to an amazing woman! I love that Dominique decided to be her true self as well. It can be so hard to fear everyone will shut you out but it’s much better to not shut out yourself.

The woman in Compartment C, Car 193

I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality until I tried to be everything else but myself first. Even today, I shy away from receiving love. I remember feeling myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding at Electric Forest on June 26th, 2015. I remember the day before not being as colorful. It was in Nashville years prior that I took my first big step to come out. It was midnight and sleep was impossible those days. I slipped out through the back door of the second story entrance down a long staircase past the window of my sleeping roommates, and I would get into the car and drive down the rocks of Battlefield Drive. I drove alone on the streets of Nashville past Sevier park, past Belmont University, and I would hear the clash of live bands outside of the bars off Broadway. This was the only way I could quiet my anxieties. Sometimes, Abigail and William would pick me up in their wagon and take me to East Nashville. We would walk into their bare house and go to the back yard and start the fire pit. William would turn on Delta Spirit, and they would let me talk about whatever it was that was keeping me up at night. It was always the same thing, but I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it. So I talked around it, and they let me. They gave me the space I needed to talk circles around my sexuality until I felt safe enough to talk about it directly. After I did, I was able to come out to my friends one by one. I flew to NYC to have dinner with a friend and to tell her I loved her when we were in high school. At JFK, I called my mom and started crying as I told her what I confessed to my friend. I asked her if that was okay and if she stilled loved me (which she said of course). Coming out wasn’t hard just the first time. It was hard every time, and even after coming out and moving to Los Angeles, I still found myself hiding behind terms that didn’t fit me, like bisexuality. I spent the first couple years in Los Angeles testing the waters, but still feeling like I wasn’t confident enough to be myself. Even today, I have to remind myself to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. And this isn’t always the same breath. We are constantly restricting ourselves in different ways, oftentimes unnoticed. The times that I am the happiest are the times I didn’t even realize I was letting go. I was just being me at that moment, not for anyone else, and not for any other purpose but to be.