Community Rainbow Waves

Megan

I truly believe that stories are the way we connect and reflect the bravery, challenges, love, and fear that is this human experience.

I knew I was attracted to girls at the age of seven/eight. Because I had feeling for my friend – I couldn’t name the feeling and it didn’t feel wrong in any way. My friend would sit on my lap and I’d feel so much love for her. As time went on, I released this was not ‘normal’ and no other girls were talking about girls but only boys, so I ignored my feeling for girls for years and years.

I lived in a small town in South Africa and I literally felt like the only gay in the village. If there was any mention of LGBTQI people, it was always in disgust and a negative light. So I was terrified about my feelings. I felt so alone, scared and confused. And then at university (in this small town), I started falling in love with my best friend and it was unbearable. I slipped into a deep depression and started taking antidepressants.

And then something magical happened, I found Youtube but more specifically a LGBTQ channel on Youtube called ‘The Beaver Bunch’ and for the first time I saw real life bisexual, queer, lesbian, trans people living their lives open and proud. I think I watched every single video and keep finding more and more channels. And just like that I didn’t feel so alone and decided to come out. First I came out to the Youtube community in a video and they welcomed me with open arms, love and support. I felt so overwhelming by the support that it gave me the courage to come out to my family.

Coming out to my immediate family didn’t go as well as I had hoped, my dad and sister could care less I was gay but my mum took it hard. She was and is my rock and when I felt her pull away, it broke my heart. I can say now a decade later, she is my biggest ally and supporter.

Besides my mum, all others I came out to were supportive. I feel very blessed and haven’t experience any negative ramifications regarding my sexuality.

I’ve been out for a decades this year and in the same year I came out I met my future wife. I’ve never known a love like I love her. She’s been my best friend, soul mate, and lover for 10 years. But this year just as covid went into full swing, she at the age of 36 was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. To say it’s been a tough time is an understatement, it’s been a living nightmare. All I can do is watch the woman I love and adore fight every day to be here. We exist on the edge of hope and despair every day, and live every day for the small moments of joy that we can find.

So to end, I just want to let everyone know that at the end of the day all we have is love. And love has nothing to do with our physicality, race, gender, or sexuality – but our souls. I hope one day this world will wake up to this and embrace love as the compass the guides us. Light and love to all.

Christine

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.

Internalizing my battles

Usually a story starts at the beginning. When everyone is equally as confused. No one knows where the directors will take each scene and I, being from a conservative family, just was implied that I was straight by nature. No questioning needed of my sexuality. Thus, I live for 22 years just repressing feelings. Going out with boys and then feeling this empty feeling. Like I’m not being completely honest with myself. So I start this story with the middle. My junior year in University. I had already acknowledged that I liked a girl that was one of my best friends but I sweared to myself every girl had those kinds of moments. We are just hyper awear of our feelings. (laughs in closet gay). Well well we’ll. There comes 2018 and the summer that changed my life. I was preparing myself to have 2 months of no interaction with people. Ready to start studying for medical school and then out of nowhere I just put a random show on. Wynonna Earp. What an interesting show. Magic, guns and comedy. I was hooked. What I wasn’t expecting was to identify so much with Waves. How the heck did a writers created this character. Why I’m I getting so emotional over a TV show. How I was going out of my head questioning if I was a lesbian or I just was confused or all of the above. What I didn’t realize was that I will go to YouTube and spend days watching interviews from the cast. What I never realized was that one of them will sing the song I never wanted my lips to sing.
I’m still closet and at age 23 I feel like it’s taken forever to get to this comfortable place where some of my good friends know. But, Dominique I have to say thank you. I just graduated from a bachelor degree in environmental sciences. On my way to my PhD. If it wasn’t for the fact that I saw representation of not only the awesome queer community but also Start the Wave I don’t think I would’ve come out of that depressed stage I was in. Dominique thank you for saying it’s ok to be the odd one out in an ever so serious world. Thank you for standing by our planet’s side. As a queer Hispanic environmentalist it means the world. I sure as hell will be doing the most to save it too.

Minority Trifecta: Mexican American, LGBTQ, and a Woman

I’m in Spanish class for native speakers my sophomore year of high school. I’ve just recently met a new girl, she doesn’t have many friends but every time I look at her I get this sinking feeling in my tummy since the first day she came into class. The universe somehow places us, months later, sitting near each other. We begin to write notes to one another and tell each other our secrets. We start hanging outside of class and even cuddle when in either of our houses. We hold hands occasionally, but only if we’re sitting on the couch and under a blanket. One evening while browsing the TV, South of Nowhere is on The N. We watch it holding our breaths and between each commercial we somehow manage to awkwardly get up. When it’s over my hands start to sweat and when I look over to her, finally, my heart races. She knows and I know now what this all means.
We dated for 6 years, during high school and a year into college. We broke up because of distance and just life teaching us different life lessons – but that was my first love. My awkward first fumbly kiss, I love you, and even first sexual experience was with her, and it was pure.

However, in between all of that, I had to come out to my VERY Mexican, Catholic, and conservative parents – not once, but three times. If you ask any Mexican-American Latinx folk out there they’ll tell you our culture is so intertwined with Catholicism that it becomes our lives. The first time my parents found out, they found a note (the ones we used to pass) from my girlfriend during the summer. That summer they sent me to Texas to be with my aunts. I did not have a cell phone. I did not have access to the internet. I was alone. I contemplated suicide a lot that summer because I finally saw what it would mean if I lived my truth. The second time I came out to them was after my suicide attempt. It was 2 weeks after my 17th birthday and I had enough of hiding who I was, I had enough of the world telling me that I couldn’t be Mexican, a lesbian, and a woman, and that if I was I was going to disappoint the family, the church, and our community. I had enough of lying to my parents. During the treatment process my counselor pulled my parents into a room and he had us have an honest conversation. I told them that I attempted suicide because I knew that I was different and they’d never accept it. My mom knew what that meant and never repeated it again – we didn’t even have closure that session. I completed therapy and completed my in-patient program. I recovered from that incident, but I was completely broken already. Years passed and I finally had the chance to go away for college – to a 4 year Uni in Chicago. By this time I was no longer with my first girlfriend. I joined a diverse sorority and met so many queer women that empowered me. I attended a social-justice driven school and so when I learned so much academically then thanks to “city life” about strength in diversity my perspective changed. I started dating around and I came home less and less every semester. My parents found my Facebook and they realized how I was going out and having fun; they realized we no longer had a deep relationship. They sat me down one Sunday afternoon and asked about me finally. My mom sat me down and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us? What is going on here?” I was filled with animosity and hate toward them, toward my culture, toward my spirituality. I told her all of that. I told her it was because I was gay. That was the third and final time I had to come out to them. They finally got it after that. My mom cried of course, we stopped talking for months, my aunts would call my cell and leave voicemails with gospel readings, my cousins stayed at a distance… etc… It was horrible, lonely, painful – I still have flashbacks of the time I spent not knowing if I had a blood family. I had already found my Gamily (gay family) in the city. I knew who I could go to and feel safe to, and cry to. That’s what became important to me, gamily that could just accept me as me and protect me as me.

I’m 30 years old now. I met my now wife in 2013. We’ve been married since 2016 and have two cats. We still live in the city where we fell in love, Chicago. I am now comfortable in my own beautiful Mexican brown skin. My parents and family don’t fully accept our marriage, but they’re coming around slowly. I am still attending therapy, I am now doing meditation and I’ve opened my mind/body to the healing powers of crystals and other rituals. We work on our spirituality a lot, just not with religion. We advocate constantly for queer Latinx youth that feel lonely and isolated. We are strong queer feminists. We support transgender equality wholeheartedly. We are living the life we wish we had when we were younger.

If you’re Mexican American, or of any Latinx background and you identify as LGBTQ feel free to take this story as the representation you seek/need. I am proof that things get better, always. (Sorry for the Cliche). They get better when you find your gamily. They get better when you begin to live authentically and unapologetically. You’re valid. You’re beautiful. You deserve happiness, too.

Life’s a lot of fun if you look on the bright side.

Hi, my name is Amélie but my friends call me Waméliz (don’t try to understand).
I’m 18 years old.
And sorry if my English is disastrous because I’m French.
Anyway, since primary school my thing has always been to hang out with boys, to play at fights, to dress up as a pirate for fancy dress birthday parties, to hate dresses, tights, ballerinas etc…
For a long time I was regularly at my grandparents’ house.
And like all self-respecting old people, I had the right to a classical education: a girl doesn’t dress like a boy, two girls kissing “my gods what a horror” and the racist thought…
As a child I didn’t understand all that.
I just wanted to put on jeans and a T-shirt and go have fun with my friends.

As time went by, I started to feminize myself more and more, imitating other girls my age, having boyfriends and hanging out with girls only.

It wasn’t until I was in 9th grade that I realized that I liked girls.
There was a new girl in our class, at the time I didn’t pay too much attention to her.
But one day she had a lot of trouble carrying her bag because as she was handicapped sometimes her knee joints got blocked.

So I helped her carry her bag home, and I continued to help her like this every night after school.
She was very much on my mind and I loved spending time with her.
In college, being gay wasn’t very well accepted, even though harassment had gotten under my skin, so when I imagined coming out, I didn’t want to take any chances.
So I decided to keep my thoughts to myself (something that should never be done, it seems).
But I did tell my loved ones about it.
Starting with my mother, I told her about this girl with whom I shared the road every night.
To tell her in the final sentence “I think I am in love with her”.
And my mother replied, “I thought so, my daughter”.
Yes, well, there are better things, but at least it went well.
Then it was my father’s turn, as there is not much communication with him, I wanted to tell him quickly.
That is to say, just before he went to sleep, “Good night daddy, and I also wanted to tell you that I am in love with a girl”.

Might as well tell you that he didn’t have a very good night, the next day he told me that I didn’t have sex with a boy I couldn’t know who I really loved, I asked him if he had slept with boys to find out if he really loved my mother but he took it the wrong way and ended the conversation.

Months went by and I decided to tell the girl how I felt.
To make a long story short, she told me she didn’t feel the same way and stopped seeing each other (no my life is not a TV show), so what can I say except unicorn poop?
When I arrived in high school, that’s when I could fully assume who I am, a PANSEXUAL girl who wants to be friends with everyone and who loves people big, small, white, black, yellow, green, multicolored etc…
My last two coming-out dates were this year.
One to my friends who took it very well except for one who asked me if I ever fell in love with an animal and I said “yes of course be careful with your dog the next time I come to your place”.

And the last one to my grandmother, she must have had at least three heart attacks but she finally accepted it.

I’m proud to be part of the LGBTQ2SZETRWU community… there you go.

Queer!

i first realized that i wasn’t quite straight when i was 12. it was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me, and i tried to suppress my feelings for a couple years before i realized that i couldn’t live my life like that.
a couple months before i turned 17, i decided to stop pretending and stop hiding. it was both the most daunting and most relieving thing i’d ever done. i was extremely lucky to have friends that graciously welcomed me into their arms, and i am so incredibly thankful for them.
people that i grew up with were forced to see that lgbtq+ do exist, and that their existence is normal. my coming out may have been uncomfortable and scary at the time, but now, i’m so proud of myself for being open and true to myself, as well as opening the eyes of people that had previously held negative ideas about the lgbtq+ community.
i’m here, i’m queer, and i fucking love people.

Woman/Lesbian/Gay/Queer…it’s all good! ; )

I properly came out I when I was 25 as a lesbian, but I called myself Bi when I 1st talked about liking women when I was 22 and I fell in love with my best friend.
Growing up in a very religious family I didn’t hear the word gay until my early teens, but never heard the word “lesbian” spoken out loud.
Looking back it was so obvious I was gay as I’ve always “liked” girls/women. I had a crushes on celebrities and my mum’s and older sisters friends, but never put 2 and 2 together.
When I broke away from my family and started travelling the world from 19 year of age I discovered about the gay community. But it really hit home when I fell in love with my best friend when we were in the army.
I was so confused, so embarrassed and thought I didn’t want to be different. My religious upbringing really made me feel guilty and wrong. But luckily my friend was so understand, even though it was unrequited love and I was heartbroken. I went backpacking to Australia after leaving the army and really started hitting the gay scene. There I discovered I was a lesbian as I never was physically attracted to men.
After that, I travelled to London where I had several relationships with women, partied hard on the lesbian/queer scene and years later met my future wife.
We now have 2 kids and been together for 17 years.
So it’s been a long journey and I could tell you so many stories, but that is for another time!
Anyway, I wish everyone discovering themselves a great journey. It will all be ok xxx Romy aka MamaGoo5e

“I am made and remade continually”.

For me, realizing that I was a lesbian was probably the easiest part of my identity. I was in 8th grade and came out to my school in a research paper I had written on gender-neutral bathrooms (as one does).

This year, as an 18 year old student nurse, I felt that something about me was wrong.

I began to question whether or not I was a lesbian. I have always had moments where I thought that maybe I just hadn’t found the right guy yet. Eventually, I’d realize that was comphet and that I was very much a lesbian.

This summer, it hit me. It wasn’t the term “lesbian” that made me uncomfy. It was the term “girl”.

I think it would be fair to say that I spent well over 24 hours just scrolling through blog posts, coming out videos, twitter profiles, etc., all with one common topic: Non-binary.

I struggled for a long time trying to accept the fact that I was non-binary. I had always felt a close relationship with my womanhood and female empowerment. But some days, I feel very disconnected from it all.

Realizing that I was, in fact, non-binary was the easier step of my gender exploration.

I cannot tell you how many times I opened my social media accounts to change my pronouns from “she/her” to “she/they”. The tight squeeze I would feel in my throat always prevented me from solidifying that. I had many fears. Can I still identify as a lesbian? I still feel like a girl most days, am I non-binary? What if I change my pronouns back later on and people think I’m a fraud?

Reading it now, I’m giggling to myself at how silly my concerns were. Eventually, I gathered the nerve to come out to my friends, who received it very very well. I have yet to tell my family and, if I’m being honest, I don’t think I ever will. It is a part of my identity that I like to keep to myself. To my friends. I don’t feel so strongly about having to tell my family because I’m still the same person I was before I changed my pronouns. Sure, I’ll tell them if they ask why my pronouns say “she/they”. But I don’t feel that I have to make it well-known that I’m enby. And that’s okay!

So, the point of sharing this crazy story? To remind any of you that you are not alone. Sexuality is fluid. Gender is fluid. Identity is fluid. Feel free to experiment, to change, to find who you really are. Because once you find that part of yourself that just feels so right, everything around you begins to fall into place.

I’m Reagan. I’m 18 years old, and I am a non-binary lesbian.

Cisgender Queer Lesbian (Indigo Moon)

Being queer is something I have always been. But before I discovered this gorgeous term, I just always said to myself, “I’m me, and that’s it”.

Before I knew I was gay, I didn’t know much about labels. Growing up, I never saw the benefits of placing myself into categories. It felt too forced as if I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.

Ever since I remember, I have always been drawn to women. When I was a child, I had no understanding of attraction but throughout these years, whenever I watched something on TV or socialised with others, it was other girls who I felt pulled towards.

Willow from Buffy, Root from Person of Interest to Rose from Doctor Who, I had multiple fangirl obsessions. But because of the society that we live in, heteronormativity dominated the classroom and playground.

All of the other girls appeared to only like boys whereas I only saw them as friends or even brothers. Amongst the confusion, I kept saying to myself, “well, I’m just me” and that’s okay. Yet I didn’t talk about my feelings to my family. I was too scared.

Skipping ahead to 2016, I was off to university and at this point, I knew more about the LGBTQ+ community and sexuality. But I still didn’t ask myself where I fit in the rainbow spectrum.

Looking back, I was in denial.

I kept remembering moments where I had friends who were boys. When they said they wanted to be my boyfriend, I knew in my gut that I never wanted it to happen. But then I thought, it might just be these boys you don’t like, you might like others

So as I got older, I remembered men that I had met at social gatherings and went through the same process. I tried to picture myself being intimate with them. It felt so wrong. But when I imagined the same scenario with another woman, I felt immense joy and happiness bubble up inside me. It felt so right and so beautiful.

Over time and with the help of some of my favourite fictional queer characters (thank you Willow Rosenberg and Alex Danvers), I felt ready to come out.

The first person I told was my amazing sister. I knew she wouldn’t have any difficulty accepting this part of me because she, in fact, already knew.

Apparently, I suck at keeping my queerness hidden. Which I am really proud of. Maybe even my younger self knew I didn’t need to be afraid.

So far, so good, my sister was supportive as any sibling could be. Next, were my friends but this felt more casual. There was no big announcement. When the right moment came along, I just said, “I only like women” or “Yep, I’m a lesbian”. Thankfully, I have wonderfully loving friends and some are also queer.

The two people I was felt most nervous to tell was my mum and grandma. We aren’t a religious family but they have made comments about queer folk in the past that has made me uncomfortable.

Regardless of my trepidation and fear, I knew I had to embrace my authenticity and start living for myself. So I sent my Mum a text. She said she didn’t know I was attracted to other women but that it didn’t matter. She didn’t love me any differently.

And my Nan, well, I never actually said to her, “I’m gay”. When I told her I had someone and her name was Sophie, she didn’t even bat an eyelid, she just carried on with her day. I love that response because that’s how I believe it should be. Being queer needs to be normalised in society. Why should we have to announce, “This is me, I am coming out.. as myself”.

It feels wrong to me that we should even have to reveal or announce our sexual or gender identity. I want to live in a world where people don’t fear difference but embrace and cherish it. Where we can be accepted and loved.

Since I came out, my life has been transformed and I fully accept that being queer is one of the most beautiful parts of myself. I am living authentically, with grace, gratitude, joy, compassion and empathy.

I believe when we live authentically, the Earth falls into balance and we become ONE with every being in the universe.

Questioning until further notice…

My journey started 9 years ago and is still going on now. Looking back, it may have even started years before that? But 9 years ago, my sister got pregnant at 16 and kickstarted my mother into giving my younger sister and I the dreaded “safe sex” talk at age 11 & 13! Being the smart ass that I am, told my mother I didn’t need the “talk” because I was a lesbian. We all had a good laugh and left the conversation at that. Except that became a running joke within my family… “when you get a girlfriend she’ll be my favourite daughter” my mum would say. It’s kinda the reversal of 90% of queer stories, rather than feeling like i was being putting in this heterosexual mould that society expected of me, I was constantly being called gay by my family. sometimes fondly, sometimes not so fondly. It lead me on a journey of confusion and frustration. For years I was a walking, human-shaped, lump of utter confusion, sometimes I still am. It started making me question everything; interactions I’ve had, friends I made, people I avoided. I had a fear of talking to new people, mostly boys. In 23 years I can count on one hand the amount of relationships I have had (spoiler alert: it’s absolutely zero)… But I like to read stories, fanfiction, comics and 99% of them are queer. Most times, I can’t watch a tv show if it doesn’t have at least one rainbow community representation.. it’s been 9 years and I still don’t know what I am or what I like.. however, I’ve always felt more connected, safer, with females, I can remember meeting a couple when I was like 7yrs old (because that’s what I liked to do when I was little; assert myself into strangers life if even for a few minutes) at the beach and introducing myself and staying with them for hours. The woman was so nice, Jill was her name, and they were trying for a baby of their own. I held her hand, she make sure I had sunblock on, that I was fed and not thirsty. In retrospect, that’s kinda weird for someone to do for a random kid but I remember crying when I had to leave. I don’t remember her boyfriend, nor did I have any sort of connection with him or any other male (though that may be a result of some early childhood trauma? Idk) what I’m trying to say is that my journey is still going on now and I am looking forward to wherever it may lead me; my mother may get a future daughter-in-law or a son-in-law or someone in between or maybe I’ll just get a whole bunch of cats? Either way, I am loved. I adore Waverly and her bravery to go after what she wants and I aspire to be even half as brave! I am trying to absorb some of Waverly’s Bravery to explore what could make me happy…. also, Ive watched Gentleman Jack (several times; Sophie Rundle is adorable!) for an appreciation of just how far we’ve come!!