Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT.

I came out when I was 14 years of age, 13 years ago, most of my family were accepting, though a few were not. Some still not to this day, but have been a little more accepting through the years. Shockingly for me the older generation in the family were more supportive than the younger, excluding my dad. My dad was not accepting at first, it come to the point where I didnt have any contact with my dad for over two years.. due to the fact that when I was in my late teens he actually tried to pay me to be with a boy! As you could tell that was a big no. Thankfully my dad is 100% supportive of me now and we have a great relationship. Many people ask me how I could forgive him? My reply.. whats the point in holding on to something bad, when hes sorry and I’ve had many more happy memories shared with him. I have had many struggles in life many battles I have fought, the most hardest was being told I was confused because I was sexually assaulted from the age of 12 to 14, “your not gay, your just traumatised”, i always new from a young age, the first time I kissed a girl, 9 years of age (practising) like kids did. My happest memory of coming out was actually only 2 years ago, to my great grandfather, I was always told not to say anything as he was old and wouldn’t understand, i was very close with my grampa so, when he was 93 I came out to him, he did not judge me what so ever he just told me about the time he met my great grandmother, and told me it doesn’t matter who you love, it doesn’t matter how much you fight, if you love you them don’t ever let them go . That conversation was one of the last conversations I had with him. Its a conversation that I hold dear to me and one people should listen to.

That Tall Redhead – CONTENT WARNING: This coming out story contains description and/or discussion about self-harming behaviour and suicide.

Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.

Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.

My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.

Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.

At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.

I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.

When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.

I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?

Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.

So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.

Best regards,

That Tall Redhead <3

Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂

My name is Nerea. I’m a non binary/genderqueer and I like girls.

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

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

Nerea.

I am Charlie, a queer trans male.

I have been misgendered from a very young age.

Whether it was a stranger seeing a boy but being told that I was a girl or by my parents who only ever knew me as a female. Then came my next identity crisis. In primary school, I also had my first crush on a girl which created a new bunch of questions that I didn’t know whom to ask. I hadn’t been taught about the vast spectrum of genders and to the extent that I had a sense of sexuality it was faint at best.

I have always been lucky to be surrounded by people who support me and have loved me for whoever I want to be. However even at the tender age of 11, I was well aware that the world around me was not always going to have my back. This fear of whether or not I would be accepted for who I am kept me from yelling from the rooftops how I felt and how I wanted to look.

I went to a girl’s school in Melbourne, Australia. While this only further awaked my sexuality, it did nothing to help with my doubts over who I was. As a 14-year-old I never felt more different to everyone else around me than when I was at school play acting at being a girl surrounded by other teenagers who were definitely female. Yet due to the limited education that I had received about the gender spectrum I only felt alienated and different, without the comfort of having an identity that I could cling to. Believing that there are only two genders in the world, boy and girl, and that you are what you are born as, sent me to a terrifying and dark place.

Even so, I had the comfort that my friends were supportive of me when I came out as queer. I was so shocked when they shrugged and moved on like it was a completely normal thing, I had to ask them if they had heard what I said. Every LGBT story I had ever read led me to believe that I would receive a negative reaction. However, I believe I have been lucky for my parents were the same, reacting with joy and support.

Later, I discovered the gender spectrum and I have never been more relieved. I found a place that I could home and an identity that I could feel comfortable in.

You would think that after coming out once, a second time would be like a piece of cake. Unfortunately, it was even harder. Before I had known my parents friend who were queer. They had been over for dinner and they had tucked me into my bed. Although I wasn’t certain, I wasn’t too worried. Now I was about to tell them that the daughter they had known for years could no longer be their daughter. Perhaps blurting it out at the dinner table ten minutes before our favourite tv show started wasn’t the best idea but they couldn’t have been more supportive.

Although, with my parents I am now in a place where I can talk to them comfortably about me being their son, I have not reached that level of comfortableness outside, in the real world. It is the sad truth that we do not live in a world where every single person is guaranteed to support you. But from my experience so far, there are many people out there who have my back. As someone who is still afraid to go to public toilets, stutters out that they are girl when questioned in the female bathroom but is too scared that they might be thought of as a fraud in the male bathrooms, I applaud those who stand strong and say I don’t care what the world thinks, this is me and I am proud. As a person who does not correct my grandmother when she calls me Sophie, even though my name has been Charlie for three years, I read Dom’s message and I smile, for a person who I have looked up to for so long has stood up and paved the way for many people to truly be themselves.

With the courage from Dom’s coming out, I stand here and I yell from the rooftops that I am a Queer Trans Male and I could not be more proud of who I am.

#OutIsTheNewIn

A shy baby bi girl who has no idea what she’s doing, but is glad she is here

I’ve known since a young age that I was attracted to girls. I kissed my babysitters niece when we were 8 or 9, a few years later I found my dad’s playboy magazines – and I wasn’t trying to read the articles, I was lucky enough to have a computer in my room when I was in 6-8th grade and I found wlw fanfics online and I remember the one time I took a 1 megapixel video recording of two (2) girls kissing from a TV show on my flip phone when I was in the 9th grade (of which a friend saw and I’ve never panicked more than I have then, but someone got them to drop it and move on). The point is I’ve always known, I just always felt like that part of me had to stay hidden, even though I later became a very outspoken ally of the LGBTQ2IA+ community. I even sat with several friends as we cried together while they came out to me and I loved and supported all of them, but yet I felt that I couldn’t do the same. Maybe it was just my body insecurities, or whatever but I felt, and I guess still do to an extent, that I didn’t belong. That I didn’t physically look or dress and certain way so I couldn’t be anything but straight.

Even though I supported and had friends in the community I felt that I still needed to hide that part of myself, like it was ok for everyone else but it was wrong that I felt that way. I kept that part of me isolated to my apartment, my second tumblr account, etc. I let others make their own assumptions and just ran with it. That felt a lot easier to me than actually saying those words out loud.

I also struggled as the years went on with my age (I’m 28) I started thinking that I was “too old to come out” and what if I come out as this but later figured out that I’m that or none of those. Would people take me seriously? Would that perpetuate the bisexual stereotype of just being confused? Thinking about coming out is stressful enough but add those questions on top of that with no one to ask or have provide some kind of reassurance that everything I was feeling and thinking was normal and valid and all I had to focus on was me was torture.

And then one day I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw gifs of WayHaught and I read the comments and found out about Wynonna Earp (Funny side story: I didn’t watch the series immediately so I was just going off comments and tags and I thought Nicole was Wynonna for the longest time and was a bit confused when I first started watching the show lol) Watching Waverly grow to understand and accept herself and how brave and sure she was of her feelings for Nicole really hit me. I knew it was just a TV show but her journey was so authentic that if helped me be a bit more comfortable with what I was feeling. As soon as I started the show I also sent out my #EarperGreet tweet and was floored by how friendly and accepting the fandom was. Everything combined made me feel like I had a safe place to be myself. I started getting bolder on what I posted or liked on my main twitter and eventually got the chance to hang out with other Earpers from my city. Being able to hang out with other queer people naturally made me feel more comfortable and confident to be myself. It would be another 7 months after meeting my fellow Earpers in person, of subtle hints and whatnot online before I finally came out on twitter, on national coming out day no less. I came out as Bi and I couldn’t be happier. I’m still a bit shy in person talking about it, but I think that’s just my normal introverted, awkward self. It sounds silly, or maybe it doesn’t, but Wynonna Earp, WayHaught and Earpers as a whole really helped in making it possible for me to be me. If I hadn’t found wearp I honestly think I would have continued to be a closeted ally. So thank you.

Disclamer: I am not a writer by any means and have major scatter brain when I try to write so this probably reads as a word vomit salad so I hope it makes sense.

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 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.

I am me!

I always knew i was different but i didnt know what that meant. I grew up in a very secluded rich neighborhood where being straight was all there was. I was in high school when i met my first gay person and a light went off and everything just clicked. I finally knew who I was. I became me.

Still figuring things out 🙂

I’m still very young, I am only in my mid teens but I’ve known that I had feelings for girls since I was like 7 or 8. I live in quite a small town and had no representation around me apart from in the odd tv show, I thought sexuality was as linear as just either straight or gay. As a 7 year old that had certain feelings towards girls but also fancied a boy in her class this very small concept on sexuality made me very confused on who I was and what I was meant to feel.
I went to church with my nanny even though my parents weren’t super religious and had sort of picked up through the years that love was supposedly only meant to be between a man and a woman. I was a very anxious child and the idea of hell was terrifying to me so the fact I had been taught that that’s were I would end up if I continued feeling the way I did made me very very scared. Now I know that I have been made the way I am and I’m not going to get punished or condemned for just being me so I’ve been able to overcome the that fear. And the thought of a big pride party in a lgbtq+ section in hell makes me giggle a bit.
The year or two of fear and confusion led me to just suppress it as much as I could and just try get on with the normal things a 9 year old should be worried about. My attraction to girls always just stayed in the back of my head and by the age of 12 I had learnt about bisexuality so anytime the thought creeped back into my head i just sort of went ok well your probably bisexual but that’s good because you can still just end up with a man.
I always avoided the thought until around the start of 2020 when my best friend told me she liked me, at first I was just like ok chill and didn’t think much of it until I started thinking did I feel the same. Over a month or two I stopped hiding from my sexuality which was pretty easy as I spent a lot of time just by myself because of lockdown. It was a lot easier than when I was younger as I had my friend who felt the same as I did.
In this time I labelled myself Bi and talked about it with a few of my close friends. they were all supportive and to my surprise a lot of them were also questioning their sexuality. Deep down I still felt unsettled about being bi apparently undoing years of internalized homophobia towards yourself isn’t the easiest thing to do. Thankfully I had several friends around me on the same journey so I never felt abnormal in my friend group.
I started watching just about every show with the slightest wlw representation in it because I’ve always used tv for comfort or an escape so maybe these shows could help me feel more comfortable with myself. It was sort of difficult to find a show that had a good representation of a wlw representation but then Bly manor came out and a short time later I found Wynonna Earp. Even though Dani and Jamie’s relationship didn’t end the happiest it was still a beautiful story and it was never made a huge thing that they fell in love with the same gender it just focused on their love story and the plot of the show. The same with Nicole and Waverly, it was never made out to be something so shocking that they fell in love with each other, it was also nice seeing Waverly accept her sexuality there was no 3 seasons of her questioning, it was simply a oh well that’s new, a slight hiccup then a, well I love this person so why should it matter if they are the same gender as me. This definitely helped me view my future, potentially with a woman, with a lot more ease.
In the past month or so I have started to question myself a lot again on whether I am bisexual or lesbian. I think watching these shows and realizing that ending up with a man isn’t the only normal thing has made me think whether my very few experiences with having feelings towards men were real or simply because I had been taught since birth that was the “normal” thing or the way I had to feel to fit in with society.
I am still very young and have so many things to figure out and do but at the moment I am happy with my sexuality whatever my specific label is. I am not out to my family but actually just a few hours ago my sister told me if I ever had an attraction to woman I could tell her because she would never want me to feel alone. safe to say I cried a little but I am very happy that I have support from at least one of my family members.

apologies if anything doesn’t make sense I’m not the best writer but I’m very grateful to be able to share 🙂

I’m a bisexual latina

I think that since I was little I always felt that something was off or that I did’t fit with the rest of my family or friends. I grew up in a place where being LGBT wasn’t something that you could be or see on a daily basis. I was your typical stereotype of being not so feminine, loooove soccer and hang out with the boys more so than with the girls. Oh the irony!

I remember that when I was 8 o 9 I had this “competitive” obsession with this girl in the opposite soccer team. I always thought that I just wanted to defeat her in every soccer match and If she didn’t play I would get very upset. Later on you start to see this “gays clues” that life would throw at you and don’t realize. Then, when I was in secondary school and puberty started I had this massive crush on a boy, the pretty boy of the school, so I got distracted for a while but deep down I still felt off from the rest. When I was 13 this boy got a girlfriend and for a while I thought that I was jealous of her but in reality I was jealous of both, at the same time!

Then, highschool happened.

When I was 15 I finally had the opportunity to see “gay people”. Yes, as ridiculous as it sounds. Back then representation was not something you could find in mexican telenovelas o any other type of show broadcasted. Internet was just starting to be a thing and basic education at school never tells you that not being a cis straight person it’s possible. So there I was watching girls kissing girls and boys kissing boys and then I knew that was possible but still didn’t questioned it within myself. I hadn’t realized that I’ve had feelings for girls before.

Not until I was 16.

I’ll never forget it.

I was in my biology class, bored as hell so I started to get distracted and while looking around I suddenly felt that someone was staring at me. So…I turned around and there she was, this beautiful girl looking at me. We shared a look, like a 10 seconds long look!…and I knew. Nothing happened between us mostly because I was scared. I’ll always regret that.

After that, research started, quizes about whether I was gay or not, youtube videos, webseries, Carmilla, clexa, Las Aparicio here in Mexico and eventually I came out to myself.

I was in fact, attracted to cis men and cis women, I was bisexual. So far I haven’t had attrattion towards non-cis folks but who knows?!

It took a while for me to know because my attraction towards men is not as strong as it is towards women so I thought I couldn’t use that label but who cares, I feel comfortable with it and sexuality is fluid. If I ever feel the need to change it , I will and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it.

Once I figured that out I decided to come out to others.

I started with my bother, who by the way, is also part of the community! I was so funny when we both knew about each other.

Then, my mom. Poor soul, my bother had just came out to her and a week later her daughter as well. She was shocked I can tell you that but with some time she processed it and now she is even asking me to take her to a Pride Parade, gay bars and everything that’s gay because as she says, it’s what makes me happy and “gay people are so funny”

My dad found out because of her, she told him and he was cool about it.
I know that I am lucky to have a family that loves me and supports me no matter what and unfortunately that is not something everyone has but I know the world is slowly changing.

We will make it, maybe not my generation but the future looks better than the past.

XO XO from Mexico.