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Community Rainbow Waves

Out Is The New In​

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Feel free to exhale homosexuality

For me, understanding my sexuality has meant going through several mental chaos. Before understanding my sexual identity, I had to first understand my sexuality. In my adolescence, while everyone was talking about girls, boys, sex or kissing, I only thought about playing sports and going to the movies. I was not attracted to anyone, neither boys nor girls. And that made me feel like a freak, because everyone was already having a partner or, at least, a taste for someone, except me. I went out with a couple of guys and those have been (until now, 10 years later) the most boring dates of my life.
Also, before discovering my homosexuality I discovered sexual pleasure through masturbation. The first times I felt guilty about doing it because everybody knows that men masturbate, but what a horror if a girl does it. And so, for a couple more years, I was still not attracted to anyone, and did not need to have anyone.
It wasn’t until I entered college that I met the love of my life. This girl stirred up each and every one of my hormones that, until that moment, seemed dead. Unfortunately, it was an unrequited love, because she was suffering for a boy who did not pay as much attention to her as I was suffering for her.
The first person I told about my possible homosexuality was my best friend. His words of comfort (because yes, for him that confession was comforting) were “Relax, you’re not gay, you’re just confused. Let me tell you, there is nothing more confusing than when you are told you are confused. His consolation created a (other) mental chaos for me: how do I know if what I’m feeling is real or if I’m making it up? How do I know if I’m one hundred percent sure of something or if I’m confused and haven’t noticed? Furthermore, what does it mean that I am confused?
With those doubts in my head I entered my first relationship. The first month was a mental chaos because it was my first time (in every way), and it was with a girl. Because of the macho and conservative country I live in (Peru), being gay was seen as something negative. (Level: the same police officers assaulted both gays and lesbians) So, for someone like me, who has always tried to do the right thing and be a better person in every way, the idea of being gay made me ashamed. I mean, I knew it wasn’t a bad thing per se, but I was embarrassed that I wasn’t “normal. I was embarrassed to be something that was seen in a bad light. That’s why I didn’t tell my parents about it. However, as the days went by the mental chaos became more acute, so I thought it would be best to talk about it, maybe I could lean on them to understand me…. The reaction they had was shocking. You definitely don’t really know your family until you come out of the closet. From my mother I expected some rejection for being Catholic, but there was only silence. Not a single word for several days. Until she came over one night and told me to be careful because I could get AIDS. Yes, AIDS. It was the middle of the 21st century and I still believed that you get AIDS just by coming out of the closet.
On the other hand, my father is half relaxed, to the point of letting my brother smoke marijuana in the house. But it seems that drugs are not as serious as homosexuality. As soon as I finished telling him that I thought he was gay, my father started crying. There is nothing more ridiculous than seeing a big, loud person cry because his daughter is a lesbian. He started crying because it turns out that homosexuality is a disease. It turns out that homosexuality is a product of some childhood trauma. It turns out that homosexuality is an impediment to marrying and giving birth to grandchildren. And, in between cries, she began to apologize for whatever she did to make me believe it was “it”.
So far, when I think about that scene, I am aware that my departure was not tragic, it was just disappointing. At that moment I realized that I was alone in all that mental chaos. And I accepted it. You’re not always going to have someone to lean on, so I decided to raise myself to be my own source of support. But, of course, going through that chaos alone is not easy. It took me several more years before I could stop feeling ashamed of myself, and feel truly comfortable in my own skin. And it is only now, at 28, that I feel free to breathe out my homosexuality.
Now, because I’m half antisocial, my story hasn’t inspired anyone (because I don’t talk to anyone), but, if anyone keeps reading this far, what I can tell you is that, it’s not about forcing someone to accept you, it’s about how, as long as you love yourself, little by little things and people around you are going to shape up to you. And, one more thing, Respect. Even if someone lowers himself to the level of disrespect or seeks to harm you, as long as you hold your head up high, little by little you will be the one who wins.
Thank you very much for reading this will. Much love.
Ariana.

I’m a little strong rainbow in a grey world

I think I’ve known I’m a lesbian since I’ve been a little kid, but it never occurred to me, because it wasn’t the norm? I was always told that I’d find my prince, I’d marry a beautiful man, get some kids one day and all my scars would fade away the second I’d give my heart in the hands of a guy. I was confused and overwhelmed when I got into a relationship with a guy, because everyone did it with 14, so we thought we should do it too since we were good friends. It didnt last long. I broke up with him after a few weeks because I’ve noticed that I dont want this. I didn’t want to hold his hand or kiss his lips. I was scared, I thought I’m not capable of feeling those shiny colourful emotions. Till a lesbian character showed up in my favorite soap opera when I was almost 15 and that’s when it hit me. She showed me that there’s a world besides those stupid stereotypes and it’s okay to like girls. I started to figure it all out, opened up to my closest friends and at the end I told my mother about it. Even though I can say it’s definitely better to share this with anyone if you accept yourself. I didn’t love myself back then, because I was scared of being different. I was never confident so to realise that you’re “different”.. let’s just say it wasn’t easy, so when my mother didn’t accept me i went immediately to a big black hole of hatred. But I fought my way through it and I’ve never been happier. Once you’re truly yourself, you start to see life with a positive attitude and since then I’m doing everything I can to support other people who have the same struggles, I had back then.

Bisexual

I felt (and still kind of do feel) a bit confused about who I like. But I knew I was 100% in to girls as well in 2016. I came out to my friends in 2017 and I promised my self I would come out to my family soon after. It’s now 2020 and I am still in the closet with my family. I know they know I am not straight but I am just too scared to have the conversation with them. I know they will accept me and nothing ‘bad’ is likely to happen but I just can’t say it to them and I am worried that they dynamics may change, especially with my dad.

I don’t think i know yet but i’d probably say for now queer

i think i’ve always known that i liked girls i just never thought anything of it. i always just didn’t even acknowledge it because i didn’t know what it meant. then probably around 10-11 i started really questioning my sexuality and gender identity. today, truth is i don’t know the answer to either of those questions. lately i’ve been thinking maybe i’m gender fluid because i feel like i’m both and i’m neither. this proves to be very confusing for someone who’s just trying to figure themselves out. i’ve thought out all scenarios and i’m not sure of any of them. i’ve questioned being a bisexual trans man and being non binary and just being attracted to feminine people but truth is i don’t think i’ll know for
awhile. I, as a 16 year old kid, don’t have to know exactly who i am right now. at this point i’m just trying to stay positive and patient and when i know who i am i’ll know.

Let’s make a better world by showing our true colors

I think I always knew I was queer. However, when I was 12 I fell in love for the first time, just like you see straight kids do… and it was so beautiful, so truthful and so right. I never once though it was a bad thing, it was all so natural, so pure… And I didn’t even know what homossexuality was, I just knew I liked that girl so much it made my stomach hurt, in a wonderful way, so never questioned myself and I always fully accepted who I was because, at age of 12, we don’t really understand what prejudice and homophobia was and why people would think our love was wrong.

But then I started to grow and realized that society abhor who I was and it was when I started being untruthful with myself and hide the Real me for years… that felt like centuries.

At that time I believe I was bisexual, so I dated a few guys, but I never felt anything and never understood why… if I was bisexual shouldn’t I be also attracted to people of the opposite sex?!
As the years went by, the doubt inside of me grow stronger, it was like I was suppressing the answer unconsciously.

And then, in 2018, my mom found out about me, she had read the messages my (ex) girlfriend and I shared and I had never felt so disrespected in my life. She seemed so okay with who I was, but at the same time I knew she was lying and only trying to make me feel safe.
However, the past year we struggled a lot, she didn’t accept my True Self, she accepted all the parts of me BUT one. For a year my heart was breaking and breaking, in times I could even hear my heart shattering inside of me… and I still don’t feel like she fully accepts me, she keeps denying that part of me.

Nevertheless, we became closer this year and, in a way, I am grateful for that year of suffering and questioning because it forced me to look beyond the surface. I had to engage in some introspection and I finally had the courage to truly accept who I am. I finally had the courage to admit I wasn’t attracted to men at all and that it was okay.

Despite all the hate and prejudice that the world insists on throwing at us. I am really proud of who I am and I will walk in this world with my head held high because there is nothing wrong with being my unapologetic self.

It’s only when I saw and accepted who I was that I could really love myself

One important thing about me is that I’ve always loved stories. Novels, movies, series, any story. From a very young age I’ve felt the need of finding inspiration and role models in fiction. When I was a kid, I deeply wished for two things: being a heroine living many crazy adventures (as a mermaid if possible) and finding true love. True love, from what I had seen mostly in Disney movies seemed like the most extraordinary thing in the world. And it was between a man and a woman. At that time, I didn’t know any queer people. I probably knew gay couples existed but I would have never thought of it as a possibility for myself. It was like this abstract thing that was very far from my world.

When I became a teenager, I remember that at a very young age I wanted a boyfriend who would love me. I was still watching Disney, but also teen movies and Romcoms. I remember that I was looking for a guy in my class whom I could have a crush on. And every year or so I would find a guy I would fall for, and secretly admire, wishing for this perfect movie ending.
It was also in these years that I really discovered that lesbian love was actually a thing. First by a Russian band called Tatu (that you may or may not know). This band was formed by two girls who were a couple and it was a huge hit at that time. I loved there songs but I was mostly very curious about their relationship. I became very attached to it, I was buying magazines about them. I remember once I bought one, and there was a poster in it where they were kissing. My parents said they thought it vulgar. I’ll come back to my parents a bit later.

Of course, it was revealed that apparently the couple of this band was totally fake. At that time, I felt betrayed (teenagers can be dramatic, what can I say). But I feel like my admiration for them opened a door that never really closed. I was thirteen when I realized I had feeling with my best friend. I don’t know if it was because of our friendship, or because I actually felt an attraction. In the girls magazine I was reading, they were saying that it’s normal as a teenager to question yourself, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re gay. So maybe it was just that, I was confused.

I feel like I was living a sort of double life the following years: as I was still looking for my prince charming, I was at the same time watching and reading everything I could that was including a lesbian relationship. The problem was most of these characters where ending awfully: getting killed, committing suicide, being miserable in any way, or back to straight.

As I told you before, fiction has always been very important for me, to inspire me for what I wanted, for my dreams. I think at an unconscious level I got persuaded that if I was not ending in a relationship with a man, I would be miserable. I realized that everything would have probably been better if I had talked about this to someone. It didn’t even cross my mind, probably because I wouldn’t have known who to talk to anyway.

So for most of my teen and adult life, I lived as a straight woman, in straight relationships. Do I need to specify that it was a disaster ?

I started physical relationships at university mostly. And without realizing it, I developed a pattern: I was always attracted to men I couldn’t have, or didn’t try to have. And I was never attracted to men who were attracted to me, at least not at first. To be honest, I wouldn’t have looked at any of the men I ever dated in my life if they hadn’t show interest in me in the first place. And then I felt so lucky that they even considered to look at me (Hello low self-esteem). And then we were dating, and I was making me falling for them, and I was playing the perfect girlfriend. These relationships all ended in the same way: at some point the guy was losing interest in me and breaking up.

The thing is, even I if I felt heartbroken and bad every time, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of relief at the same time. Like suddenly I got my time, my energy and myself back.

And yes, I kept wanting to have a boyfriend, or THE boyfriend. I felt jealousy towards my friends who were dating these awesome guys who loved them for so long. Why wasn’t anyone loving me? Wasn’t I able to be loved?

In all my early and mid twenties I avoided thinking about my own sexual orientation. But when I was 23 or 24 I met a woman (let’s call her Marie) who was openly gay. We became friends, and she invited me one weekend at her and her girlfriend’s place. As we were watching movies and talking, she said that it was so strange that I was only attracted to men, because even here other straight friends all had at least on same-gender crush (mostly celebrities). I didn’t know what to respond to that. Obviously, I couldn’t be gay or even bi if for Marie I was the straightest of all her straight friends. Since she was gay, she obviously knew better than me.

I’d like to take this opportunity to say that no, no one know who you are, who you love or attracted to better than yourself.

To go back to my parents, when I told them that Marie was gay, my mom answered me with a laugh « as long as you don’t become like that. » It was a joke for her.
That’s the thing with my parents: they are not what you could call obviously homophobic. They don’t insult queer people, they think they should have rights, they have no problem watching movies about gay people (as long as it’s tasteful according to my mom. I don’t know what it means either) and being moved by gay love stories. But they always made me feel like being something else than straight wasn’t right for me. I know that my mom have always pictured me with a handsome guy (and is probably very desperate because it’s still not happening) and I can feel the heavy weight of her expectations. It is probably why even if I’m 31 my parents still don’t know who I really am. I don’t know I’m ever gonna be able to tell them (if anyone has tips^^) or iff they suspect something.

But this story has a happy twist. After a burn out at work, I started a big work on myself, and after my last relationship with a man, I realized that it would be indeed probably the last one. At 28 I was finally ready to admit that I was attracted to women, and guess what, fiction helped again. This is where I want to talk about Wynonna Earp, and Waverly. I saw a lot of myself in her and her relationship with Nicole became very soon my couple goal. It was such a help and inspiration to me, so really, thank you.

At that time, I thought of me as bisexual, but still questioning. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but once I felt that I wanted to date again, I subscribed to an online dating app for the first time in my life. And I felt SO AWKWARD. I didn’t know how to start a conversation or what to do to keep one active. But this is where I met the woman I fell in love with and still dating today. For the first time in my life, I deeply love the person I’m dating and our relationship. Even if we don’t live in the same country and haven’t been able to see each other for a while because of what’s happening in the world, I couldn’t feel more happy, safe and excited at the same time.

I realized that I was identifying as gay or lesbian (but I still prefer queer), but that my sexuality will stay fluid: I can be attracted to men, but I don’t want to date them or have sex with them. The spectrum is so much wider than I thought before and I’m so happy to be part of this community.

But no matter how I call myself, it’s only when I saw and accepted who I was that I could really love myself and express my true identity. Thank you Dom for giving us this space of expression <3

I came out after being dumped by my first girfriend

I always knew I was gay, even before I knew what being gay was. I was always just interested in girls. But I never told anyone. When I was 18 I got my first girlfriend, and I was sooo in love. She dumped me 6 months later, and I was heartbroken. So I finally decided to come out to my best friend. And it turned out I was worrried about nothing. I was sooo nervous before saying the words, but I was just met with love and understanding.

I had quite the easy journey of coming out, I was lucky. Thankfully I live in a country where it’s easy to be open. For the past 12 years I have lived with my girlfriend, and we have 2 beautiful kids together. Live your own truth, and be with the one you love

Katy/Polyamorous Lesbian

To me, it seems like there are two stages to coming out: coming out to yourself and coming out to others. I was 13 when I thought I might be bi, 15 when I admitted to myself (after two years of self-flagellation) that I was a lesbian, and 16 when I came out to others. But it wasn’t until I was 20 that I could really call myself proud, or at least self-accepting. It was a long, rough journey, but definitely worthwhile.

I think it was that journey and maturity that made realizing I was polyamorous so much easier:

Me: “I like her…but I also like her…and it’s not that I like one more than the other…it’s that they’re equal, but different…”
My Brain: “Polyamory is a thing.”
Me: “…Huh.”
And that was that.

As much as people joke about gaydar, we do know our own. I’m lucky enough to know a lot of people who are out and proud, but every so often I meet someone who makes me think “this person is out to themselves, and they’ve accepted it, but they’re not quite ready to share it with the world yet.” And you know what? That’s ok. Coming out is a process, and it takes as long as it needs to. Coming out to myself and truly accepting my sexuality was the hardest part, but also the most rewarding. So whatever you feel and whomever you love, be honest and out to YOURSELF first and foremost. The rest will come in time.

And know that when you are ready to come out to others, you’ve got a rainbow of people ready to lift you up.

Bi work in progress

I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.

Confidence……Sexual confidence

Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.

Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.

Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.

The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?

Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.

With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.

Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.

Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.

I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.

WHY?

I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.

That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.

Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.

The was it.

No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.

Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.

With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.

This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.

Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.

Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.

Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?

The answer…….

CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.

Gay/lesbian

The signs probably started showing when I was 10, but I didn’t have the courage or freedom to admit this to myself until 16. Becoming self-aware was a whole other milestone that caused stress, anxiety and depression because I didn’t know how to deal with it alone.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, the first person I came out to was my brother, and I did it by email when he was in the room next to mine. I remember shaking and crying when I hit send. I told him not to reply because I didn’t want to know if he hated me for who I was, but he stepped into my room to hug me as I broke down. This gave me the courage to tell my friends, who already knew and were just there waiting for me to be ready. I felt blessed and so lucky that the people around me accepted me and still loved me the same way.

So I eventually told my mum, and she cried – not out of happiness, but disappointment. She told me she was disappointed and I can still remember the physically pain that hit my chest till this day. I don’t think I could ever forget the way it made me feel when the most important person in my life didn’t want to understand me. Even now, it’s something we brush underneath the rug and it still destroys me. My own father (who I don’t have a good relationship with) is still stuck in his own traditional ways of thinking. He’s pointed to a TV screen with LGBTQIA+ people and told me that ‘these people are disgusting and don’t deserve to get married’, so I’ve decided he doesn’t deserve to know me.

For as good as the world is, it’s still hard to comprehend that those who don’t accept us are not actually bad people.