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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Luisa- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION

I had felt “different” from others since I was very very young, I didn’t necessarily understand that I liked girls but I knew I didn’t feel for boys the same way my friends felt for them.
Growing up, being gay didn’t even cross my mind until I was maybe in high school and all my friends had crushes and boyfriends and I felt pressured to have a crush. It never occurred to me that I had crushes because they were not boys. I felt like I needed to like boys so I “tricked” myself into thinking I did.
The fact that I had never seen or known any gay people or specifically any lesbians and the fact that I started listening to some homophobic things from my friends and family made it difficult for me to get in touch with this part of my identity. Deep down I always felt I wasn’t allowed to be myself and I didn’t want to tolerate that.
So fast forward, I graduated high school I moved from my home country of Colombia to Argentina, went to university there and started meeting so many different people from all walks of life, straight, gay, bi. People who accepted and loved me and made me feel safe and seen. The 4 years I lived in Argentina where some of the hardest years I’ve had yet. I was diagnosed with depression and was really struggling to find my voice. After many years of therapy and working on understanding myself I finally realized and accepted that the reason why I hadn’t had any romantic relationships with men wasn’t that I was unlovable or ugly or not girlfriend material but because I wasn’t attracted to men. I was 22.
I felt like the weight of the world had lifted off of my shoulders and I wanted everyone to know that I thought girls were beautiful. I came out right away, I felt like 22 years was enough time to hide this and feel ashamed, and I didn’t wanna do it anymore. I was lucky enough to have friends and family who opened their arms to this part of me and still loved me for all that I am.

My name is Luisa and I am a Lesbian. 🙂

Just a girl who likes girls

I think I’ve known I liked girls since I was 14 but I kind of ignored it, if that makes sense?? I sort of pushed those feelings and ideas away, and tried to be attracted to boys. It’s fair to say that it didn’t work ! I came out to few people at a time, people I could trust but I only told my parents and extented family when I had my first girlfriend. I was 22, so I’m a late bloomer!
And telling my pare nts was hard because I knew they wouldn’t understand and it made them sad ; sad that I wouldn’t live the life they imagined for me and scared I would be seen as “different”. Some people rather blend in and not make waves, but maybe different is cool you know ? It opens up people’s mind and if they make the effort then they can see life from someone’s point of view and sort of grow. In that way representation matters, especially on TV where people how normal queer people are. We are only different from the societal norm but maybe we can just change that norm? How hard could it be to simply accept and embrace our differences ?
This place allows us to be simply ourselves, so thank you for this!
xxx

A flamboyant, macho, brainiac weirdo

Hello there,
I guess I should start with the introduction.
My name is Deniz, most people call me Deni (sounds just like Danny or Denny) and it kinda grew on me because in reality I don’t like my name. Actually I don’t like how it sounds, and sometimes people have hard time pronouncing it correctly (They usually use alternative spelling version in their native language). I just gave up eventually. In Turkish language, “Deniz” is a unisex name, the word means “sea”. For unknown reasons, people always I assume that I’m a biological man and address me as such; on the phone, on documents, in emails and etc. I know that my gender expression isn’t helping at all, but it always bothered me, being assumed to be someone and stuff.

I’d like to share a story about the time I came out as bisexual because 12 years ago coming out as queer just wasn’t in the cards. Society I was in, including myself, wasn’t ready to face the notion of gender expressions other that the binary system itself.
When I was 16, I decided to come out to my friends. I wanted to be honest, lying is not my strongest quality, never was. I was always in trıuble for being blunt. No one apreciated it, probably my dead pan face gave it away. I dunno.
I was the team captain of when I was teenager, and lots of younger swimmers in my team were looking up to me. I felt like I had the responsibility to set a good example (I mean I was the older child, I expected too much of myself I see it now). Parents were trusting me to be a wise leader, kids were coming to me with their problems. I was changing in the dressing rooms I shared with lots of younger girls and I didn’t want them to fear me. I didn’t want to seem like a predator, a freak who was supposed to be their older sister (I wasn’t even sure if I was capable of being sexually attracted to anyone until I graduated from high school, it was more of an emotional state of mine for me)
Shortly, I didn’t want to betray anyone’s trust. My coach was already sexually harrassing and grooming, flirting with (I mean what a cliché, amirite?) kids, other athletes, moms…
However, I never had the chance to be myself, I didn’t have the chance nor time to discover what I was, who I was and what I wanted in life other than what was bestowed upon me as an ideal supported and encouraged by the adults in my inner circle. (Truth time, I thought french kiss was the worst thing ever, it was messy and unsanitary, plus in high school at one time I was dating a med student and wait, I just realized that I’ve sated so many med students and I work at a hospital, what is wrong with me – I hated the French kiss because of all the med students I dated)
I attended an elite high school that is still ranked in top ten in the country I live in. It was competitive, very stressful (I don’t want to brag but Turkish education syatem is shit, I was one of the lucky ones and I had to earn my place by sacrificing anything that could be considered as fun). I never get to enjoy that high school experience as most people did. (I don’t even know what that means I mean I made out with girls and went to parties and got drunk and shit but it was low key, considering who I was in college)

One day, I just turned to my friend while we were sitting at our desks in class (I think we were in recess), mind you we were all nerds and geeks with extra ordinary curriculums up our sleeves (up to our butts, my classmate is a soloist – violinist and a successful lawyer right now), and that friend of mine was trying to solve a trigonometry equation that was bothering her for so long (time is relative). I looked at her, and in all seriousness told her that I was bisexual, that I actually liked boys and girls, as if it was my big shameful secret – it felt like I died inside.
I mean, I already dated the basketball team captain in freshman year and the drum player of the school band in sophmore, I was popular (as a weirdo maybe). It felt like a legit mistake. I could’ve seen the next day, people making fun of me and the mentioning the time they found my Lindsay Lohan photo album and asked what it was, the I replied with “She is my role model” bullshit when it was clearly, ehm… whatsevs…
Anyway, she stopped, looked at me, and said “Good for you, I’m happy for you. Now please solve this one because I can’t, and it’s embarrasing.” So, I did. It was easier to solve it if you pretend that the triangle was a part of a pizza slice, and the radius of the arc under the triangle was mirroring the parabol on the graph, thus tan(x) wasn’t just a mystery that haunted my friend for the last couple of hours. (it might have been 5 min)
She was more interested in solving the geometric riddle than whom I’d fancy. I was heartbroken. Who did she think she was? I’m just joking, it was a huge relief.

That was a wake-up call for me to be honest. That eureka moment bunked many negative pretend-comments I had about myself. I was in my head for so long. I was afraid I would let everyone down that I never realized I was letting myself down by belittling myself. I was who I was, I still am who I am. My sexuality, my gender, my gender expression are just not as interesting comparing to my personality, my vision, my interests, what I am capable of, and what I succeded.
I was really proud of myself, and then college happened…

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.

Gender doesn’t define who I am attracted to or love.

Thinking back on my life I have memories of being attracted to both boys & girls but had no examples of what that was. It didn’t help living in the South and the buckle of the Bible Belt. The world, friends & family spoke negatively about “gay” people. So I pushed that part of me away, to the back of my mind. Then fast forward, I’m 28, married to a man & pregnant. I remember watching X-Files and crushing so hard on Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) while my husband thought I was into Mulder (David Duchovny). I began having anxiety, vivid dreams, fear & confusion.
Questions about my sexuality consumed my thoughts. Can I be gay or bisexual and still believe in God? I was “tomboy” but I still like wearing makeup…. Can you be gay and wear makeup?
I continued to hide my feelings. Symptoms got worse. I wanted to die.
I was 32 with 2 kids and miserable on the inside & living a lie. It was when I was ready to swallow 60 Xanax that I looked at my kids and thought I want them to grow up in a better world. I have to be that example!
I found the courage to tell my husband and file for divorce. Everyone chose ” his side”. Threatening to take my children away from their “perverted mother” & raise them the “right way”. I’ve never felt more alone. My own mother told my children their mother was going to burn in hell. I had to set boundaries and distance myself. I had to learn who I was and it took a lot longer than I wanted but it is the best most freeing thing I’ve ever felt. I described as feeling healed.
I slowly tried to make those I love understand that I’m still me and that my sexuality is not the only or most interesting thing about me. It took my mom 8 years to accept me. It was worth it, when I my son & daughter are becoming the loving, kind, & nonjudgmental people the world needs now.
A little advice for those not out and/or struggling is take your time, learn about yourself, research what LGBTQ+ support is available near you, but most importantly, stay safe. Also, before I told anyone, it made me more comfortable & confident to practice saying “I’m gay”, out loud, to myself. Sounds silly but it helped. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Thanks Dom & Start the Wave for providing such a wonderful & safe space!
Wishing Peace & Love to all! 🌈❤🌍✌🏼

My name is Heather, and this story has been brought to you by the letters L and G, and by the number 9.

When I was around 5 years old I had my first crush/love and her name was Dolly Parton. I thought she was really pretty and a good singer. I used to make believe I was marrying her (If you ever read this, Carl Dean, I hope you find it funny!). I grew up playing with my boy cousins when they weren’t being jerks. I liked running around outside in the dirt. I didn’t like wearing dresses or anything remotely “girly.”

Boys weren’t really on my radar and somewhere along the way I was taught that girls liking girls or boys liking boys was gay and therefore gross and wrong. I got into Tae Kwon Do and was the first girl in my school so obviously I was noticed. During those years I began wanting to having a boyfriend because the thought of holding hands with someone was nice. But sometime in high school I began thinking about girls. Of course I would never tell anyone. It was gross and wrong. But why did I keep thinking about it? Did I have a deathwish?

My first serious boyfriend was Glenn. I was 17 and he was 22. Hold on. Let that sink in for a moment. Now I’ll tell you that this was 1997 when the internet was pretty new and the idea of meeting people from online chatrooms was insane. Yet here this man came from New England to see me and we hit it off. I still can’t believe my parents were okay with it. I guess times were different then. At some point I told Glenn that I sometimes thought about girls. But I wasn’t gay. I still wasn’t gay even when a really pretty girl sent me a pic of herself in her bra. I was really confused and told myself it was bad.

After Glenn I had a bit of a break before the next boyfriend. I was a sophomore in college and pledged a sorority and started making new friends. I fell for one of my sisters. Her name was Tammy and she was so adorable and innocent. I remember one night as I was leaving her suite after a visit she gave me a hug and I just closed my eyes and thought, ‘This is perfect.’ I confided in a few friends that knew how to keep a secret and eventually told Tammy. She said she could love me as a friend and a sister. I was 99% sure it would go nowhere but there was that 1% of hope. I left for the summer, came back in the fall, and then not long after began seeing Billy who I also met online but this time on a dating website.

Initially I looked at Billy’s profile and passed because he was 32 and I was 20. But then he sent me a message so I figured I’d reply and it just went from there. It turned out he went to my college and lived just outside of the town. We were together for three years. I think it lasted that long because he was easy. But I didn’t just want to stick around in my college town when there were other things to experience. Billy was set in his ways and when I realized he would never go with me no matter what, my depression was truly kickstarted. If you’ve ever seen the video for the song “Turn Down For What” then you’ll know what I mean about crashing through the floor.

Next came Erick and that was an exercise in futility but I didn’t want to see it. He would say he loved me but didn’t want a relationship at the moment. Depression and love self-esteem make an option like Erick seem fine because you think you don’t deserve better. We had fun times like online gaming. He introduced me to a couple of games that I would play over the next several years. It was in one of those games that I met the gamechanger in the form of a woman named Deidra.

Deidra was part of a group I would chat with on IRC (Is that even still a thing?) and sometimes hang out in-game with. She openly flirted with me and at first I really did not know how to process it. It was just something I had never seen or experienced. I started crushing on her and eventually I said to myself, “Heather, you need to stop lying to yourself. You are definitely into women.” Deidra was one of the first people I told. Erick was still around and I went to visit him once. But during the whole trip there, all I could think about was Deidra. Erick ended up cutting me loose when I point blank asked if there was any chance of us being together. That was the last time I was ever involved in some fashion with a man. I was 25 years old and began identifying as bisexual.

For the next while I began looking for movies, stories, anything about women loving women. An “L Word” fansite practically saved my life one night when I was feeling so low that I was scared of what I might do. I got involved in that fandom and was able to connect with other women like me and some became friends I still talk to today.

Eventually I began wondering if I even really liked men. I can’t say I didn’t love the men from my past because that would be lying. But then when I really thought about it, whenever I thought of the future, I didn’t see a man beside me. Instead I saw a woman. Today I identify as gay or lesbian and sometimes queer. The idea of being with a man is just not appealing to me anymore.

As of the end of this story I am 41 and have had a couple of girlfriends. Donna* (name changed as she is not out that I know of) I met through the “Wentworth” fandom a few years ago. That didn’t last very long due to distance and other factors. Then there was Cindy* (another changed name but they know who they are) who I met through the “Wynonna Earp” fandom. Even though it didn’t work out they are still a very dear friend of mine. As for who’s next, well, I have no idea. I’ll just have to wait and see.

Oh, and in case you were wondering what the number 9 has to do with anything, it’s my favorite number. It’s almost a perfect 10 but still has some areas to improve upon.

A discombobulated female that is into girls

It never completely dawned on me that it wasn’t socially ‘normal’. Both my parents had never shown a liking to the community but never expressed directly that they hated it either. We moved house a lot when I was younger cause of their work, so I got to see so many different cultures and ways of living.

I first got the impression that I was (in some ways) different when I was in secondary school. My favourite teacher did an assembly on LGBTQ+ topic, and ended it by coming out (subtly). A few months later I was questioning her on all things GAY! How to know if I was gay, if other people could tell etc. I ended up coming out as lesbian in year 9, and from then I noticed an increase in my confidence and self-respect. Most of my friend were extremely supportive giving me even more reasons to be proud.

I came out to my parents a month ago, 2 years after my first big announcement. I was only able to do this because of my amazing teacher guiding me through the hate crowd we call a society. She is the reason I can stand up to people and admit that I am a lesbian.

I want this to show that support and knowledge about LGBTQ+ matters and can make someone change from a nervous 11 year old with a stutter to a strong(ish) 16 year old.

I haven’t had a long battle with my sexuality and sometimes I am told that I’m not ‘old enough’ to know what I want. BUT I am proud of me and my community 🙂

Learning not to Fight Myself

A lot of people seem to know that they are “different” from an early age.

I never did. Or I didn’t for years anyway.

I had so many other things I was worried about. Whether it was switching schools again, taking care of my siblings that were significantly younger than me, or just trying to settle in to another new place, boys always seemed unimportant, so the fact that I wasn’t interested in them obviously just wasn’t a big deal. “I’m busy,” I told myself. “I need to make friends, get good grades, go off to college, then I’ll have time for that.”

But I was enamored with my girl friends, here and there. They were dynamic, intelligent, powerful, beautiful, captivating. I wanted to understand them, to do things for them, to make them feel like they were seen and they mattered. I would skip out on homework to text them, crawl out onto the roof at night when I was supposed to be in bed to have long phone conversations about our hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities. I would give up sleep to hear more about the complexities that come out of a person in the dark. I resented the boys that made them feel worthless or annoying or not good enough, because how could they be so blind?

When I first figured out that dating girls was a thing that you could do, I was 15. My first thought was, “Oh no. That. I want to do that.”

I made my way through my sophomore year in a blur, for the first time fully aware of a crush while it was happening. I went to prom with a nice boy from my friend group and hid in the bathroom because I couldn’t bring myself to dance with him. I knew I was staring at a friend who would never look at me that way, and I knew I had something to confront.

In the middle of all of it, my parents sold my childhood home and announced that we would be moving from our tiny Midwestern town to a suburb of Denver. I muddled through the year, researching by consuming every piece of lesbian representation that I could find and then promptly deleting my search history. Until the day that I didn’t. Until the day my parents sat me down as asked me about it. And I told them. And they asked if I was trying to get back at them for making me move. And we decided a few months later that I would go back home to finish high school, but tell no one because it would make things too hard. Make people too uncomfortable.

I truly, publicly, came out a month after I graduated. The day that marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, June 26th 2015, I wrote a long, thoughtful Facebook post for anyone apart from my friends and family I’d already told. My mom called me to tell me that I should have asked her first, because she was having a hard week because it was her 40th birthday. That I should have asked before I celebrated because she didn’t want to deal with questions form the family. That I could still live a life of celibacy with God.

That was the first time that I felt the fierce protectiveness for my community, for myself, for my own worth, swirl and solidify in my chest. The first time that I really recognized that I didn’t need to be my own worst enemy because the world would take care of that. I had plenty to fight. I didn’t need to fight myself. Most importantly, I was strong enough to put myself in front of anyone that wasn’t there yet, and that that’s what this community does. We defend each other. We help each other. We love each other.

Since then we’ve seen the Pulse shooting. We’ve seen half a dozen years of Pride. We’ve seen job discrimination outlawed. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back into it again. I’ve met spectacular women and men and non-binary and agender folks that have taught me the beauty of the spectrum of human expressions of gender and sexuality and love. It’s made me a better person. I’m more understanding, more empathetic, more open. I wouldn’t trade this community, or this experience of myself for anything.

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.

Fluid/gay/lesbian

I’ve always had a strong physical connection with other human beings. Intimate energy draws me to people, especially in a romantic sense. Because of this, I grew up in many relationships with different boys. It wasn’t until after 10 months with my last boyfriend at 15 years old (I’m now 21) when I realised that something wasn’t quite right. I had never truly been intimate with any of my partners, and at this point I hadn’t yet done ‘the deed’ with him. The moment came and it didn’t feel special, I didn’t feel ‘in love’ is what I realised. So we didn’t do it, and I made the decision to end the relationship with him the week after. As cruel as it may seem, I was being more cruel to myself by keeping it going after the realisation.
5 months had passed and YouTube became my best friend. I discovered Ally Hills and Stevie Boebi, Shannon Beveridge and Cammie Scott, I watched them for months in pure denial that I was attracted to women. This was during Summer, when I wasn’t at school – most of my time was spent watching these YouTubers and doing ‘Am I gay?’ tests because I very extremely confused and simply didn’t want to admit the truth. I had a lot of internalised homophobia.
By the end of Summer, I had become so paranoid and depressed by internalising it, I had to tell someone. First, it was my best friend at the time. Then she told her mum, who was supportive of me. That same day I told my sister (who had been jokingly calling me a lesbian my whole life) and she gave me the courage to tell my mum. We weren’t a family who spoke about our emotions much, so me saying this to their faces was completely out of the picture. My sister told my mum for me, then my mum told my dad. It seems strange however, I’m not one to open up easily and for me, this was the best option. My mum smiled and welcomed me with open arms, I cried at the relief of her acceptance. I never spoke to my dad about it, but I knew he’d be okay with it.
It took a few months for my parents to stop mentioning boyfriends and realise it wasn’t a phase – I’m lucky that now I can openly talk to them about my relationships with girls and the future I have with my family, adopting or surrogacy in regards to my future children.
As I lived in a more conservative town, I came out to a heteronormative society. Because of this, it was hard to explain the decisions I made as a gay woman – explaining why I was a-romantic towards men however still very much gay. I was repeatedly told I was bisexual, which I knew wasn’t right and caused many arguments with my friends. After leaving my hometown to embark of university life, I was much more accepted and as I discovered more of my own confidence and identity, I realised that I am much more fluid in my choice of partners whilst still mainly preferring women. This was whilst also becoming more educated in gender and sexuality as I realised that I was also interested in non-binary people.
So, I am a fluid, gay woman. I am a proud fluid, gay woman. No one can tell me otherwise and I now don’t ever feel the need to explain myself. I know who I am, and that’s all that matters. If you know who you are, then nothing else matters. If you don’t know who you are, then that’s okay. You need to experience a journey before you get to your destination. Your destination may change, it may stay the same, but what matters is that your are happy and that you allow yourself to explore and enjoy the journey you face. – Scarlett (England, UK)