Community Rainbow Waves

Lesbian

when i was in 7th grade i was confused why all my celebrity crushes were female. I asked my friends that was it normal to have all female crushes. They didn’t know what to say. Time went by and then i had my first non-celebrity crush. Then i did the test and it said im bisexual. But i lied to myself that i like boys too. I’ve always been attracted to girls but i didn’t realize that. So finally i was sure that I’m not straight and i told my friends that I’m bisexual. Then i started to watch Wynonna Earp and that made me realize that im into girls only. So i came out to my friends as lesbian.
It took me a very long time to come out to my family but my sister, brother and dad were supportive. only my mom was like “it will go away”. Now i have been out over a year and im very happy and proud to be a lesbian.

Julie

I’d always been a tomboy. I grew up with 5 brothers and 1 sister (I’m also the youngest), and my dad was all about ‘the sports’ so we’d often be playing football, rugby, and quite a bit of cricket.

When I reached secondary school I really started to notice my feelings towards girls. I’d experienced these feelings before but I hadn’t known what they were, how to identify them.

I grew up in a really dodgy part of Yorkshire in England. It wasn’t a place one would ever identify as a ‘safe space’. It always felt like the whole town was… stuck. There wasn’t any art or culture, no diversity, and there certainly weren’t any (out) gay people. At least none that I can remember.

There wasn’t much to do in my town so as teenagers, me and my friends would end up drinking on the streets. I would only ever talk about my feelings when I was drunk and NEVER with anyone else, only ever to myself. I’d sit there and say “you’re not a lesbian. You’re not a lesbian!”

I did NOT want to stand out, I didn’t want to be different. When I was 14, a girl in the year below me had been outed and her life was made a living hell. No way was I going to do that to myself. So I kept telling myself that I wasn’t gay, that I’d meet the perfect boy and all those feelings would melt away thanks to his chiselled jaw and amazing magical penis.

Anyways, eventually I got out of that town and at 18 went to University. On my very first day, the very first person I spoke to was a super smiley friendly girl named Rachel. We immediately clicked and became instant best friends. But uh-oh, those pesky feelings were bubbling up again!

I ramped up my efforts to find the magical penis that drives off any lesbian tendencies. Personally, I found it pretty gross. And rather boring.

After about 4 months mine and Rachel’s friendship blossomed into something else. And it was MIND BLOWING! The first time we were together it was like my whole body was suddenly awake. Every touch, every sensation was just utterly amazing (I’m being super gushy, sorry). I was DEFINITELY a lesbian.

It wasn’t easy sailing though. Rachel and I had quite a few ups and downs in the beginning. I’d finally accepted my feelings to myself and to Rachel, but my fear of people finding out I was gay was still firmly in place. That fear meant that I, at times, ended up hurting Rach. She wasn’t out either but she handled everything with a great deal more grace and elegance than I ever did.

Over time, as our fledgling romance deepened, we found the courage to come out to our friends. They were very loving and supportive which was a huge relief. I was terrified my best friend from home would be horrified and disown me, but her reaction was so far from it! Which is also silly because I’d known her since we were 6 years old, she was never going to push me away! But I suppose that’s why the fear intensifies when having to tell the most important people in your life – the idea of losing someone you love that much is a hard thing to shake off.

Rachel came out to her parents after about 6 months. Again, they were very accepting and welcomed me with open arms. When Rach was back home and I’d go to stay with them, not having to hide our relationship was such a weight off. We were even allowed to sleep in the same bed… Get in!! 😀

My coming out to my mum took just a little bit longer. Rach and I had been together almost a year. It was Christmas in the second year of uni and Rach was going back to her parents and I to mine. My brother came to pick me up and saw me saying a very soppy goodbye to my ‘best friend’. Over the 20 minute car journey he finally asked me “are you two a couple?”. The word “yes” sat in my throat for what felt like a lifetime. I eventually managed to push it out and then waited for the repercussions…

The smile on my brother’s face was the most relieving thing in the whole wide world. We talked, we laughed, I *nearly* cried (I’m not very good with emotions). Problem was, now my brother knew, it meant I had to tell my mum.

My mum is a very intelligent woman with some interesting views, shall we say. She had gay friends when I was in my teens, but she always called them ‘queers’ and not in the positive way. In a nutshell, I was sh*tting it.

I spent the whole of the two week Christmas break hovering, trying to blurt out “I’m a giant lesbian!”. I almost said it after watching ‘Bend Is Like Beckham’ after the whole confusion where Keira Knightley’s mum thinks she’s a lesbian. I took a deep breath, had the words ready, and said “right, I’m off to bed then”. Fail.

The last morning before going home I went and sat on my mum’s bed to talk to her. I still couldn’t do it. My mum threw me a lifeline though – “is there something you want to tell me? I feel like you’ve been hovering”. I got under her duvet, covered my face, heart pounding through my chest, lump in my throat, “me and Rach are an item”. Head between legs, fingers in ears, wait for the eruption…

“I know. I heard you call her ‘sweetheart’ on the phone. I didn’t ask because I wanted you to tell me in your own time”. And just like that, my mum knew I was gay and my world didn’t end. I even got a call from my gran telling me I was still the same person, and “we talk to ’em (gay people) don’t we!” She was trying to be sweet so I let that go.

My mum took it well initially but still had her own struggles with me coming out, mainly because she had plans for me to have a strapping young husband to do her DIY. She got there in the end though.

Rachel and I have now been together for 16 years and our 12th Wedding anniversary is in May. We have a 6 year old son and live a very happy ‘out’ existence. That smiley girl, the very first person a shy me spoke to at Uni, became the love of my life.

Apologies for the huge essay.

Final note though – if I’ve learned anything in my 34 years, it’s love who you love and live your best life for you.

Stay kind beautiful people.

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” 🙂

A girl named Emily

I’ll call myself Emily. That’s not my real name, but that’s what my high school English teacher called me. By hiding my name I do not intend to hide myself. This is my story..

High school seems to be a good place to start. I was always the sporty girl who got along with everyone and who actually liked school. I had a lot of friends and my home life was good. I was always boy crazy, but sports came first. My sophomore year is when it happened first. No not the first lesbian experience, you’ll have to keep reading for that one! The first time I fell in love. He was a skater boy, and he had me. It was a typical first love— wild, free, electrifying. The first time I felt life was bigger than big. We of course had our ups and downs. But man did we love each other. That’s the first time I learned I could care so much for another person. We dated for four years. Which takes us to my sophomore year in college. I was in a sorority, played soccer and still was obsessed with school. I loved everything about being free and learning. Putting myself in uncharted waters gave me self growth. So naturally I traveled a lot. Little did I know I knew NOTHING about self growth. That would come in a few years. I dated around my sophomore and junior year. Nothing too serious. I had just spent four years with some so I wanted to live a little. The guys at my college were so damn handsome and cool. Getting invited to date parties or a long weekend at the lake was great. College did not disappoint. By my senior year I decided to study abroad, because why not? I went to Ireland and had a blast. So much of a blast that it happened again. Love. This one hit me hard too. Irishmen certainly have a way with words. This love was different though. It was mature. I felt safe with him in every way a woman could feel safe: emotionally, financially, physically. He was it. So like any responsible college graduate would do, I bought a one way ticket to Ireland two weeks after graduation. Over the next three years I would continue to fall in love with this man. We’d spend a few weeks every year in America and he fit right in. He bought a ring and asked permission from my parents. I was certain this was it for me. But something happened. He and I grew apart and I was unhappy. I ended up breaking things off and it hurt. Like, really hurt. This man loved me to my bones! And he was a good person. His family became my family. His sisters were mine. I actually spend a week or two with his family every year. He made a joke once to me, “You better not leave me for a girl. That’s what my ex did.” Whoops.

I packed up and moved back to America. Landed an awesome job in a city I had never visited. I thought, hey I can do this. People like me and I’m outgoing. I’ll make friends in no time. Luckily, I did make friends fast. Little did I know these strangers I’d only known for a few months would become my back bone. My pack. They’d celebrate with me, tell me to suck it the fuck up when I was down, and cry with me in the pouring rain behind a dumpster. Anyways, back to the real story. Up to this point, I’d only ever had an eye for guys. I longed for a husband and children. Part of me still does. This is where things get real.

Most of my friends in this new city were gay. I had okayed sports my whole life so it was nothing new to me. At my first pride I met someone. I had actually met her a few weeks ago at a bar but she was too drunk to remember. She walked right up me, wallaby legs and beer in hand and asked if I was married. I told her no, and she just smiled and walked away. The same girl stood before me at pride introducing herself for the first time, again. We were inseparable. At this point I was still denying to anyone that her and I were more than friends, but they didn’t buy it. Within two shorts months it happened again. Love. Remember when I said I thought traveling helped me in self growth? Okay falling in love for the first time with a women is SELF GROWTH. Holy shit. Knocked me sideways. I couldn’t think straight (ha, pun). Her and I were in an off for 3-4 years. I learned a lot about myself and how I was to live my life. Like most of us, ‘coming out’ was unthinkable at first. And I’m not sure I’m fully ‘out’ but this story is still being written. I learned accepting yourself isn’t about fitting it; it’s not becoming what you thought you would be; and it’s certainly not about making anyone proud other than yourself. When you can look in the mirror every morning and say “Life is good. I am good. Let’s make it better today”. That’s self growth for me.
Without my friends here who take me for who I am, I’d probably be in a relationship with a guy having ridiculously lousy sex. And les-be-honest, life is too short to have bad sex. So this is my story, for now. I seek love in all relationships: Love in friendships and love in romantic-ships. I made up that word but I think it should become a thing. I am accepting that I can love and be loved by women and it’s pretty sweet. Maybe I’ll date guys again, maybe I won’t. Love has no gender and certainly isn’t on a set schedule. I am open to myself and am optimistic about the best time IT happens.

Keep shining and know that you are beautiful xx

I am me.

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOR.

Since I was a little girl I felt so confused as to why I saw the girls the same way all of my friends saw the boys, I could understand why they thought the boy looked cute, this only added to my confusion. I struggled silently until the summer before high school, my best friend asked me to meet up with another girl who she liked, that was the first time I realised I was not alone. We went to the city and her friend joined us there, she too had come along with a friend, I remember seeing her and I knew instantly I was attracted to her, I didn’t just think she was pretty, there was so many more feelings going on in my head than that. We spent the entire day just smiling at each other, we both went incredibly shy, I dared to think maybe she felt it too. This was back when msn was the in thing so we spent hours upon hours talking to each other every evening and we met up a couple of times with our friends, after the third time we met up I confessed to her I liked her and how confused it was making me feel, luckily she was understanding as she felt the same way. I was so excited to have found someone who understood me for me but I was terrified of what my family and friends would think, how could I possibly tell them I had a girlfriend? The first person I turned to was my sister and she was so supportive, she still helps me to remain positive even to this day. She told me she loved me no matter what and that my family would say the same, but I was still terrified to tell my parents, especially my mum, I come from a Catholic family, church every Sunday, Catholic schools. I decided to wait a bit to tell the rest of my family but my friends started questioning me when we returned to school, so I decided to tell them, I was unapologetically out and proud at school and honestly no one even battered an eyelid, in fact a few other girls and one boy in my year also came out a couple of weeks later, which was incredible. When I eventually told my parents my mum told me it was a phase, I had been dreading hearing that, it broke me. I left my girlfriend and became seriously depressed, my mum was and still is my rock, I needed her support the most. I completely lost myself after that, all of my friends started meeting guys and going to parties, I decided I needed to be ‘normal’ and so I did the same, I was getting attention and so decided to just go for it but although I enjoyed the partying and even the attention, I was missing something, I felt so empty inside. High school was over and I had spent 4 years of my life battling against my heart to be ‘normal’ and I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, I had been to prom the night before and it just all felt so fake, this wasn’t me and I didn’t want to be here if I couldn’t be me, I took an overdose, my mum found me and rushed me to hospital, I wasn’t in a good way but I pulled through, I had to agree to go to councilling before the would let me go home, so I did. I went along and told them what I knew they wanted to here but it was all a lie, I was hurting so badly inside. I decided to go on an online forum for lesbians and just talk to people in the hope it would make me feel okay being the real me, I met a girl on there and we really hit it off. We met up and she was my first true love, after a short while I moved away from home and lived with her and her family, we eventually got our own place and I felt like I could be me, the real me. Unfortunately she wasn’t the loving person I thought she was and she did a lot of very bad things, she broke me to pieces but my mum was there to pick me back up. She told me she understood and it was okay, she loved me no matter what, she loved me for me, the real me. Every part of me wanted to believe her but the voices inside repeatedly screamed ‘it’s just a phase’ and so I drank to numb the pain of a heart break and the feeling of rejection, of being a freak. I spent two years working to go out and drink and/or do drugs, my world was spiraling out of control and I knew I needed help but felt the only person I could turn to was my sister and so that is was I did. I turned up at her door in tears, she held me and her husband called my parents, within 15 minutes my parents, brother and his wife had all come to my sisters home, they told me it was okay to be me, they just wanted me to be okay and to realise my worth and how much I meant to them and from that day I never looked back. I haven’t touched drugs in 6 years, I have a pint or 6 if the footballs on but supporting Norwich City does that to you! I don’t smoke. I am out and proud again, at home, with my friends and at work. I am currently planning my wedding with my Fiancé for 2022 and my whole family will be there and hers. Sometimes the road is tough, really relentlessly tough but stick it out. Find your person, find them and talk to them, always, tell them your fears, your worries and allow them to reassure your that you are perfect the way you are.

Queer and still working on the proud (but getting there)

I knew I was queer when I was 20. I fell pretty hard for this girl in a summer program I was in while in undergrad but I didn’t let myself admit it for a long time. I came out to myself at 23. For me when I finally let myself admit that I was queer there was this moment where I looked back at my previous relationships and realized all those girls I wanted to be “super best friends” with were crushes. I could admit why I was always seeking out TV shows and movies and anything I could get my hands on that had queer representation in it. A few weeks later I called my friends and came out to them. I told them I was bi but as I’ve come to understand myself more I feel like queer or gay fits better. My friends have been supportive and wonderful. I haven’t been able to come out to my parents yet, but will at some point. They are fairly conservative and right now they are still responsible for much of my financial stability while I’m in graduate school. I’m 26 now and gender stuff has been coming up for me recently. I don’t really know what it is or how I identify gender wise all the time but I’m okay with that. I don’t need to nail it down or put a label on it. I still deal with a lot of shame and internalized homophobia that I don’t always know how to process but I’m working on being proud of who I am. It’s a lot of work and will probably be something I will always have to work on. In the meantime I’m becoming more comfortable with my gender expression and have created a space I can be myself with friends.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

Hi! i’m 20 years old and a closeted female bisexual

3 years ago, i discovered that i belong to the LGBBTQ2IA+, a
female bisexual to be specific. i remember myself being so confused. i
like boys but at the same time i’m also attracted to girls. i had no one
to talk to, not even my parents because i’m scared of what would they
feel and think about me. but then i came across shows that represents
people like me and the confusions and problems that came with it. i
started to understand and accept who i am, the truth about my sexuality.
for the first time, i felt like a burden has been lifted off my
shoulders. i may not have the courage to come-out to my parents yet, but
i thought that sharing my story would be a great first step to move
forward. i thank Ms. Dominique provost-Chalkley for being a great and
brave example. she showed me that coming-out takes time and a lot of
courage. but the most important lesson that i learned is that coming-out
should be on your own terms, you shouldn’t let things and people
pressure you to do so. this is my truth and my story, thank you for
giving me the chance to share it with everyone. #OUTISTHENEWIN

A lesbian who loves to hear peoples’ life stories. content warning – this coming out story contains discussion and/or mention of self-harming behaviour and suicide

Howdy! My name is Megan. My first “not straight” feelings were around age 9. I didn’t know what I was, all I knew was that I held my female best friend’s hand, and my stomach did somersaults. At age 10, I started going to a conservative baptist church, and over the next 14 years, I would battle with homophobia to the point of almost ending my life. My best friend, we’ll call her T, began to treat me as her significant other. We’d cuddle and kiss and hold hands, but it was just practicing for our future husbands (fun fact, I wasn’t practicing). T would kiss me, then ghost me for a bit and tell me what we did was wrong and against God. This happened for about 6 years, and then she started dating my brother (my brother did not know what was going on). As soon as they started dating, I lost myself. I became angry at everything and everyone. At this point, I was on my 3rd round of biblical counseling; I was being told I wasn’t thankful for my role as a woman, I was giving in to a life consuming sin, and that if I just prayed hard enough, that I would find a husband and these feelings would go away. I tortured myself to try to fit the mold I thought I needed to… In June of 2018, I was in Florida with my family. In key west, there was a pride parade, but I didn’t ask to go as to not make my family uncomfortable. We ended up accidentally running into the parade. I got off of my motorcycle and stood in the crowd, and they began throwing beads in my direction, but a big familiar hand caught them, and I looked to find my father standing next to me. Over the next few months, I began a journey of feeing comfortable enough to come out to my family, and then the world. I lost people in my life, and my family made sacrifices as well to support me. My brother and I left the church, and my parents were kicked out because they weren’t willing to disown me. I live now as a happy lesbian in eastern Washington State, and I wouldn’t change anything. My experiences made me a far more compassionate person, and I treasure that more than I know.

I identify as “Trying”

I came out at thirteen as a lesbian. I was so convinced I only liked women as a result of severe familial trauma in my early years.

Deep, seeded trauma had kept me from being an honest person, and while I don’t use that as an excuse for my adult behavior, I understand that trauma motivated many unsavory behaviors in me until my early twenties at least. And I will have to work the rest of my life to forgive myself for the person I was when I was not honest with myself or anyone else. And that’s okay.

I allowed the fear of myself I harbored to be my sole motivator.
I feared loneliness so I remained in toxic interpersonal relationships for fear of being alone long enough to confront my own trauma.

I feared my parents, who were incapable of caring even for themselves as a result of their own never confronted traumas, thus providing me with a grocery-list of my own traumas to deal with.

I feared being adopted or thrust into the foster care system, like my siblings had been. If I was going to have to be housed, I’d rather not have had to meet new people doing it.

I feared disappointing others, mostly my religious grandparents.

I feared all men as a result of my mother’s propensity for self sabotage and men with abusive habits.

This fear has followed me for decades. I’m here because I’m not a lesbian and I don’t think I’ve formulated a coherent thought around that before now. I love love. I love all types of people. Despite what I’ve convinced myself, I am capable of great love and I am deserving of it, no matter who it’s from. I am so sorry to my younger self for forcing her into this box. I was convinced I had to pick a side to be taken seriously. I don’t. You don’t. It’s ridiculous. Be open to love in its many forms. My life has opened up greatly since I had this revelation.

I’m trying. And sometimes that’s all you can do.