Community Rainbow Waves

I am here, and I am queer.

When I was really young, in kindergarten and elementary school, I used to wear whatever I felt comfortable in. I had no concept of gender and no concept of sexuality. As I got older, into middle school and high school, I started realizing that I was somehow “different” than everyone around me. I didn’t look like other girls in my class, and while I did try my best to wear what everyone around me was wearing, I never felt like I was “pulling it off”. I would try my best to be as feminine as I could, but it never really stuck and it certainly didn’t feel like me. I never cared if the boys thought I was cute, and I always got super self conscious around my girlfriends.

It wasn’t until high school that everything clicked. I realized like a flip of a light switch I wasn’t into men, but rather women. For a long time I tried to suppress that side of myself because the idea of forever being “different” terrified me. Many nights I spent awake, thinking of ways to undo it or talk myself out of it. Unfortunately, a few of my peers caught wind of my realization and soon I was outed to the entirety of my high school. At first I was absolutely terrified, but there wasn’t anything I could do at that point. I made the choice to claim it and own it (which I know is way easier said than done in some situations). It felt like a silver lining to me that everyone knew and I didn’t have to say the words, because I still hadn’t accepted it truly and I still wasn’t okay with it deep down.

It wasn’t until I made it to college and found a safe queer space that I realized just how truly incredible all of these amazing people around me were. After so much sole searching and simplifying of my life, I was finally able to genuinely accept who I was. Half way through college I started struggling a lot with the idea of gender. I thought, by being gay, it would make sense that I had more of a masculine demeanor (you know, stereotypes and all).

Oh how I was wrong.

These incredible people around me, coupled with amazing representation online, helped me to understand that even though our society genders absolutely everything, it doesn’t mean you have to label yourself as one. See it never felt right for me to call myself a “girl” and it definitely didn’t feel right calling myself a “boy” either. I was so confused thinking I had to put myself in a box so everyone around me felt comfortable. But the truth is, I don’t need to be either male or female, that being a person who is kind and honest is far more than good enough.

It’s incredible spaces like these that bring me so much pride and make it so much easier to say that I am apart of this beautiful community. That sexuality and gender can exist in all their fluidity, or they can not exist at all. That labeling yourself is an option in this world, but it certainly doesn’t have to be a requirement. Mostly, I’ve realized that being gentle with the world and the people in it, no matter the struggle, is far too under-appreciated.

I hope each and everyone of you, no matter how hard or easy your journey has been (or is currently), find nothing but love and support.

With all my love, Casey (KS, USA)
I am gay. I am genderqueer. I am here.

I am still unsure about this part. Still figuring it all out! All I know is that I am not straight.

I think there had always been a little niggle in my mind, something that told me perhaps I was different. I had crushes on guys when I was a teenager, but I think a part of me was always drawn to girls. I briefly wondered whilst at university, when I had a so-called ‘girl crush’ on a member of my cricket team, but someone explained it away by saying that all girls had them at times and it didn’t mean anything romantic. Over the years, I’ve had guys express an interest in me and even ask me out, but I always felt awkward and embarrassed, and ended up not speaking to them again. I just thought it was because I didn’t feel the same way, that I wasn’t attracted to them in return.

So, I dismissed it. Until it starting happening more often over the years. I found myself drawn to women – in real life, on TV, in films – more often than not. Yet it wasn’t until a few months ago, at the age of 32, that I seriously started questioning it. It was whilst living abroad, alone, away from my family and friends in the UK, that I started to think about it – consciously – and had nobody to really speak to. I had never had any friends who were part of the LGBTQ+ community growing up, and nobody ever really spoke about it. It wasn’t until I watched three separate TV shows (Glee, Atypical, then finally Wynonna Earp) in the space of a few months that I realised that I definitely wasn’t straight. Wynonna Earp, in particular, helped me come to that realisation and consolidated what I had begun to suspect, and I will be forever grateful that I discovered the show when I did, to the writers, directors, and cast for their genuine portrayals of the characters and the way this helped me figure out the truth after so many years.

I eventually broached the idea with my dad and a friend when I went back home for another friend’s wedding in February, but it wasn’t until last week (May, 2020) that I finally told my parents over the phone that I was almost certain that I was gay. And they were so supportive, said that they just wanted me to be happy, and they had always been worried that I would be alone forever given my apparent disinterest in dating guys. It didn’t matter to them with whom I found that happiness. And, really, nobody was surprised. Perhaps they knew all along and it just took me longer to figure out…

A part of me will always look back over the years and regret not finding myself earlier. But then I think I can finally look to the future and find my happiness, wherever it may lay and with whomever it may be. My dad has always said things work out the way they are meant to in the end, and I’m beginning to believe that may be true.

Un día a la vez!!!

Creo que siempre supe quien era y me daba miedo aceptarlo. Fue después de mucho tiempo que me atrajo una mujer, ahí me di cuenta que no podía seguir mintiendome.

Mi familia es católica, me daba miedo decirle, ya saben por lo de Adán y Eva, sus prejuicios y de lo que pensara los demás.
Sin embargo me aceptaron de una forma tan natural que creo que la única que no sabía de mi situación era yo. Jajaja
En fin, la primer chica me rompió el corazón, resulta que solo estaba experimentando conmigo .
Y no fue ni la primera vez, ni la última, de eso estoy segura.
Por qué no tengo miedo de aprender y cada experiencia que he tenido en mi vida me a convertido en lo que soy.
Una mujer responsable,sincera, honesta, trato de hacer un mundo mejor, no haciendo daños a los demás, creo que con eso es suficiente.
Tengo un alma vieja, de esas que no se entrometen en la vida de los demás y que sabe estar bien, con la situación que deba vivir.
Si estas pasando por un mal momento, recuerda vivir un día a la vez, un día bien y al otro día mejor…

A queer, two-spirit, lesbian, drummer, nature witch who writes, draws, makes things and has the spirit of an owl, whale and dog

Growing up, I didn’t know anything about the LGBTQ2IA+ community. But I always knew when I was a kid that I liked other women. Like so many others, I suppressed my feelings and kept asking myself why I didn’t feel an attraction to men. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it as I’ve always been honest about what I like and what I like to wear. But my Mum had made some homophobic comments as I grew up which made me feel like there was something wrong. It was only when I went to university that I realised I was gay. I was watching the episode of Supergirl where Alex came out to her sister, and I felt so connected to that scene as I felt like I was watching myself. So, I decided that day to come out to my sister but the funny thing is, she said she already knew. It took me a little longer to come out to my Mum but she surprised me and said it didn’t matter. She would always love me for who I am. Even my Nana who has always expressed quite a traditional outlook on life didn’t even bat an eyelid. I think it goes to show that if your family truly loves you, they will accept and love you no matter what. They might just need time. I feel so fortunate and lucky that my family have been so supportive and loving as I know so many don’t experience that. I’ve always been different in so many ways but I know that I can say I’m so proud to be queer and a lesbian because it’s who I truly am and I feel so happy to know I can be my authentic self. I met my girlfriend at university too which inspired me to come out to my family as I didn’t want to hide that part of myself anymore. If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be to trust your family and never be afraid to be the amazing person you are.

The dance of sexualities and how I realized I wasn’t as straight as I thought I was

I was born almost 18 years ago in Germany, a country that nowadays strongly supports members of the LGBTQ+ community. I never saw that, though; I never really realized that gay people even existed. Sure, I knew it, I have heard about it, but never once in my life have I seen a gay person in real life.
Which is why I was frightened when I first looked after a girl. I was frightened because of my friends. They were by no means homophobic, but they always dreamed about boys, always talked about how they wanted their first kiss to be, some of them even were in relationships.
And then there was me, the girl who already felt like she didn’t belong anywhere before and it drove me even more insane that I did not want these things- or rather: I wanted them to be with a girl.
Whenever I saw an attractive woman on TV, I felt this weird, tingly feeling in my stomach. For a second it felt like home, or at least it felt right.
Not a single person around me showed any sign of homophobia, but I was scared, scared to admit the truth and I tried to push it away as far as possible. After, I fell into a hole. A deep, bottomless hole. My grades dropped, I stopped taking proper care of myself, I fell and it didn’t seem to stop. All because of these thoughts that kept recurring in my mind.

Years passed by and in 2015, I decided to share my thoughts with a friend of mine. She was okay with it, but it wasn’t a big deal to her. Being the shy child I was, I immediately regretted telling her and I started to think that she didn’t care about me.
A year later I told a few more friends about my sexuality, back then I labeled myself as bisexual, and all of them were more than just okay with it. I slowly became comfortable with it as well and started to watch LGBTQ+ related TV-shows and movies, I started reading more books and manga that dealt with women loving other women and slowly but steadily, I became comfortable in my skin.
2017 was a year filled with love, acceptance, and recovery. I started taking care of myself again, I got even more involved in the LGBTQ+ community, joined group chats and at some point, I even started making jokes about my sexuality. I was comfortable, but there were still two people missing in that equation: my parents.

I told them three times that I am not (only) into boys. The first time was in 2017, we were at a birthday celebration and at some point, I decided to tell my father that I’m bi. He didn’t believe me.
Coming-Out number two took place in 2018 when I was studying abroad in the United States. He never responded to that specific text message.
Number three, 2019, I told him when we visited Egypt. At that time, I already figured out that I was gay, not bi as I thought I was. He once again said that it isn’t true, that I am confused.

But I will not let that define me.
Because years later, I am here and I am an openly gay woman. I am proud of myself and even if I haven’t escaped the bottomless hole entirely, I’m almost there.
I have a lot of friends that belong to the LGBTQ+ community, the others strongly support it. I make jokes about being gay, on special occasions (Pride for instance) I dress up as a rainbow. If anyone asks me where I want to be in twenty years, I have no problem to admit that I want to live in an apartment in my hometown, a dog, wife and maybe a child by my side. I know who I am now and I am proud.

I am about to graduate from High School and I will go to college to study film. I want to write and produce TV-shows in the future because to me, they are not just entertainment, they are therapy. Shows/series like ‘The 100’, ‘Orange is The New Black’, ‘Wynonna Earp’ and ‘Carmilla’ have helped me to find myself and even friends who support me no matter what I do.

I want to change something in the future and I want to help people feel things they thought they could never feel before.
I want to #startthewave and give a voice to all the colours of the rainbow!

Much much love, respect, appreciation and gratitude from Germany!

I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”

I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.

It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.

I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.

Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.

It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.

No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.

And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.

Zo, Birmingham UK

Queer/Gay/femme

I always knew I liked girls. I think I was as young as six. But I also liked being a girl, and being girly. I never quite felt the same about boys, but this way of feeling was totally different from those around me, so I guess I thought I was just wrong. Maybe I just admired girls? Maybe that’s just being a feminist? Girl power? Haha. I was a 90s kids so Spice Girls, and Britney and Christina Aguilera were totally ok to fangal over but I felt I liked them a bit more than others. The slow realisation that I was a feminine lesbian took several years not because I was confused about me identifying as that, but cause I didn’t feel there was a place in the world for me, so again, I must be wrong. The word lesbian sounded harsh and pornographic I didn’t like it, the stereotype put me off and seemed quite negative and exclusive, when I attempted to step in to the community I wasn’t welcomed in for fear I was too girly to be gay I MUST be straight or just curious. I didn’t fit anywhere. I felt alone. I think I’ve only started to accept who I am in the last few years and now I’m nearly 30. Scary and sad it’s taken so long. But after 25 I guess the youthful angst washes away and you begin to feel comfortable in your own skin, whatever that may be. You accept that you’re not going anywhere so you may as well settle in for the long run. At the same time, life is short, so cut the crap and just get on with it! Queer representation in culture and media is also just starting to blossom. It’s now kinda cool to be gay, which seems a little superficial but at least a little room as been made for me to exist as MY authentic self. I AM A WOMAN WHO LIKES BEING A WOMAN AND LOVES WOMEN! Haha. I still don’t like the term lesbian, but at least now I love being me 🙂

I am a lesbian

i have always known i was different but could never understand why, untill i watched pretty little liars. it was not a really gay show, but watching a gay character come out on tv made me really question myself. do i like this? yes i did, but i shoved it down. growing up in a conservative home and being gay is not easy. so, i was straight, i totally like boys. in fact, i loved them. i forced crushes on a lot of them and was always into some boy. when i started having feelings for my best friend (a…girl), it got worse. i was so depressed, and to make thinks harder, i was getting bullied. i just couldn’t like girls. so, i have a crush on ‘random boys name’. it was a cycle. it wasn’t untill i switched schools that i started accepting myself. (it’s harder to come out to you childhood friends). anyways, at this new school, i met this girl. she was so pretty and we liked the same things. i really had a crush this time. it wasn’t just someone i decided to crush on, i really liked her. it was an intense feeling, admiting it to myself. so, i started coming out. i told my new friends i liked her. and they didn’t care. it was normal and it felt SO GOOD. i was still figuring myself out, so i kissed A LOT of men, but it never felt right. at this point, i haven’t kissed a girl yet.and when i did, i felt those butterflies in my stomach. my first thought was “wow THIS is what it feels like” and it just hit me like a bus. yes, i am a lesbian. so i started owning it. i like girls and that’s okay. and i started just telling people, mostly when i was drunk. and nobody cared. it was okay. i’m still not really out to my family, but i did told my mom and she supported me. she still says some stupid stuff or makes some hurtful comments but she is learning and that’s all she can do. and i am grateful for that it’s okay to be yourself. it’s okay.

Bi

Since the age of 11, I have kinda known that I was attracted to girls; I used to have crushes that i used to deny because one, i was young, two, it was never talked about in my household, and three, i just didn’t know what i was feeling. It all came in perspective when i started to develop a crush on my friend’s sister. I was 12. My friends started asking me questions: Why are so interested in her? Why do you act so weird around her? Do you like, LIKE her or something? Those questions wracked my brain day and night for almost a year. Then i managed to suppress it for a while. Cut to 2 years later, i finally realized that I was bi. So i tried to focus on the part of me that liked boys, told noone.
Then, last year i decided to tell my best friend. It was too much to keep it inside me for so long, so i called her up to Starbucks one day and as u started to tell her, she said she knew. She knew and she was okay with it. I still haven’t come out to my parents and family yet, because i know they won’t be okay with it but at least I’m not lying to myself anymore. That’s what keeps me going.

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.