Community Rainbow Waves

My coming-out journey : 20 years old lesbian in France

I have turned 20 only a few months ago, but it took me some time to identify and accept who I am: a proud lesbian.

When I was around 12, I talked with a girl who were a few years older than me and who was bisexual. My first question (once I learned what it was from her), was: “How did you know?”
For me, who didn’t even know that heterosexuality wasn’t the only sexuality existing, it was a chock! Her answer gave me the final electroshock I needed: “I just know”.
She just knew! What an answer for the young girl that I was! And from this point, I started thinking. I remembered all the times were I looked at girls, all the times I wanted to be close to them, all the times I had feel things that I didn’t know how to interpret when I looked at some of my friends… And then I compared it with how I was reacting to boys, especially the ones that I dated (even if, well, dating at 12 years old isn’t much more than holding hands and playing video games). The more I thought about it the more I realized that even the fact of holding the hand of my boyfriend was something that gave me goose bumps, and not the right kind.

A few years passed, and when I started high school I still didn’t accepted myself as a lesbian. I had only decided to hide this, even if I didn’t really know about homophobia and all. I wanted to be like everyone else, not different. And it wasn’t exactly as if a lot of cartoon characters were queer when I grew up, so the only person that I knew was queer was the bisexual girl from when I was 12! What a great representation of diversity!
But, one day, I just couldn’t hide the truth to myself anymore: I was having a mega crush on my best friend! Very soon I told her, and even if it was a little difficult for me to live with that, she totally accepted me. And it was the first step of my coming-out.
At first, I still didn’t really accept that I was a lesbian, so, I decided to tell my friends that I was bisexual. Like that I could still hide the part of me that loved girls… and I started dating boys again. Not my best idea since the few kiss that I had with them made me so mentally sick that I couldn’t be close to a guy in the next months without frowning ! (Yeah I must have been dramatic too, but hey, what do you expect from a queer artistic woman?). Anyway, I quickly realized after that, that boys weren’t at all what I wanted.

From there, I decided to tell my friends that I was a lesbian. They all accepted me and supported me. And it was so freeing to finally admit it! It didn’t mean that I was really “proud” of it. My friends knew it, but I didn’t want other people to know.
Then, I told my parents, who were totally supportive, and I’ll always remember my mom saying: “Yeah, I never pictured you coming home with a guy. I guess I just knew”.
I was 18 and my friends and parents knew who I was, they supported me, but me I had still issues with this. I had to wait to enter to university and to meet with new friends, who were all queer, to really admit and be proud of my sexuality. I met with all kind of person who had other genders and sexualities than what I had knew my whole life. They accepted me, and seeing them this free and proud just made it easier for me to feel the same way.

I’m 20 now, and I’m a proud out lesbian. Well, out, yes and no. I don’t really fell like my coming-out is really over, because they’re still two people at whom I haven’t said anything: my grandparents. I know that they’re homophobic and absolutely non-supportive of difference. We already have a complicated relationship, and I’m afraid of telling them this about me, because I’m pretty sure that it would mean the end of our relationship…
So yeah, I’m proud of who I am and don’t hide it anymore. I’m glad to be in the light and to be out, but I know that I haven’t really finished my coming-out journey. Telling my grandparents will be my last step in order to completely be honest about all this.

If I have learned something from all of this is that no matter who you are, if you aren’t ready, you don’t have to come into the light. All that matters is to do it at your own rhythm, step by step. Coming-out is the most freeing experience of my life, and I’m glad that I had to do it in order to be who I am today, but it isn’t something that must be forced on you: you just have to take your time and do it when you’re ready.

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.

Blood & Water

Growing up I had an open relationship with my parents, particularly my mom. My mom was a very good listener and had a gift for making her home a safe place for kids. I have distinct memories of my best friends, going through rough times (either life-altering crisis…or in hindsight not so serious teenage dramatics) coming over to feel “heard.” She’d listen and understand and when she’d leave after hugging us goodnight my friends would often say something like “I wish my mom and I could talk that way.”

Fast forward to the summer of my senior year in college. At the time I was in a 2-year relationship with a beautifully kind guy my family, and heck myself thought I’d marry soon after graduating. I was taking a summer course and decided to live in the dorms with one of my best college friends and teammate, “Bell.” (for purposes of this story) Her best friend/partner, now spouse, was bunked up with a girl that would end up playing a pretty big role in my coming out story. “Bell” was pretty involved in the LGBTQ community as her partner had at that time recently come out as trans. By then they had fought through most of what would be their uphill battle as an LGBTQ couple at a very Catholic school. This context is important because by that summer I had introduced them to my mom. She was kind and treated them like any other person I cared about. This little detail will throw me for a loop later…

One summer night a group of us decided to go to a Gay club. It wasn’t my first time going, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say some part of me knew something was going to happen. The night ended with me kissing the girl I mentioned and making the conscious decision to see what sleeping with her felt like. My understanding of my sexuality at that time was that I enjoyed having sex with men, I loved a few along the way…and if I ever found myself being attracted to women, I’d simply add them to the list of people I was also into. I’d say I had a very matter of fact feeling about my sexuality. Love is Love… and I’m straight.

My mom called the next morning and I answered, “Hi, I’m hungover as hell and a girl kissed me last night.” I remember her laughing and asking if I was going to tell my boyfriend. The conversation went on and now that I’ve since been to therapy (which rocks btw) I can clearly remember the sound of how casually I lied to my mom. The truth was that I was interested in this girl since summer started, I leaned in first, she leaned in back, we kissed, and I made the mental call to go home with her that night. I realized I was slightly full of shit when it came to honesty. With others…and myself. Sure, I kissed girls in High School on “dares,” but never admitted I liked it and maybe… (not so maybe) put myself in a position to take those particular dares on purpose. I told myself, my parents, and friends what made sense about boyfriends I genuinely loved as people, but possibly never really liked as partners.

All in all, the open relationship I thought I had with my parents wasn’t so open. And that was on me. However, the fears that kept me from being honest then and now (still healing) were realized when I broke things off with my boyfriend and called my mom to tell her I was, “pursuing a relationship with the girl” I had told her about. She screamed, my parents cried, they cancelled my phone plan, closed my bank account, sicced my very Mexican very old school grandma on me, and of course, “cursed the day they spent 6 figures sending me to a Catholic school to become a lesbian,” etc. I laugh at this all now (again… thank you therapy) because it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to start “adulting,” but I’d be remiss to say it didn’t crush me. A. because I was surprised, they reacted the way they did given how open they had been with my friends and their experiences. (Although clearly my subconscious was on to something lol) B. I began to associate my self-worth with monetary value. Money and acceptance were twisted into a very messy and conditional thing that I would later need to work out. Money of course screaming PRIVELEGE. (Insert: Unlike a lot of my LGBTQ family I am a white passing, middle class, college educated women, and because of these things I was born into I was in an ideal position to get back on my feet, quickly.) And acceptance of course being something too many of us struggle with on a daily basis.

Fast forward to ending a very toxic and abusive relationship with the girl from the gay bar, moving into my own place (parents eagerly paying for the Uhaul when I announced I had left her… there’s an ironic gay joke in there somewhere) and meeting my now wife amid the chaos. At that point I was out to my friends and sister but had never said the words “I’m Gay” to my parents. Sidenote: I never said those words to my friends or sister either, beautifully enough I simply told them I’ve met this amazing girl and it’s going well…they didn’t need the labels.

After 6 months of dating my then girlfriend I told my parents I was in a relationship. Fast forward another 6 months of my dad telling me they weren’t ready to meet her I decided to propose knowing I couldn’t wait for them to come around. We got married a year and a half later and they didn’t show up to the wedding. We’ve been married for 2 years and are now trying to start our family!

They probably won’t ever meet my wife, and our future kids, but I’ve learned that coming out and coming into myself was something I did unconditionally. A sort of promise I made to myself and the world (Insert: source or the universe, g.d, or whatever works for you) that I would dedicate my authenticity to the balance of justice and harmony. And although that balancing act is sometimes very hard with people like my parents it makes for clear boundaries… simply put, seek justice when the rights of others are at risk (i.e when I don’t stand up for myself, my community…or other marginalized peoples)…and seek harmony when recognizing one another’s humanity will birth compassion and perhaps strides towards progress and understanding. (I struggle with the latter)

The last and most important thing I’d like to share, and the gift of my life is my chosen family. It may be cliché and an unfortunate necessity for many of us in the LGBTQ community, but the friends I have found and the family I have built is more than I could have imagined. I have a sister that walked me down the aisle, best friends whose parents showed up to celebrate my engagement, witness my first look with my wife, celebrate my marriage, create and celebrate new holiday traditions, and last but not least show up for every major life moment no matter the miles between us. I’ve found friends and bonus parents that will help raise my children and teach me how to be a wife, mother and the best version of myself. Sure, there is pain, but like many quotes that are historically misinterpreted, “blood is thicker than water,” really means that the blood shared on the battlefield is thicker than the water of the womb. And trust me the people who have chosen to fight for me and those I’ve chosen to fight beside are sure as shit there. Always.

For anyone needing to hear this: “You are loved, and it gets better.”

Living freely with all my colours

I started to Wonder about my sexuality at around 13 years old, I had always thought that everyone was very attractive? Like everyone whether it was male, female or non-binary i never really cared as long as I liked them.

But at 13 I didn’t know what pansexuality was soo I just thought I was bisexual?

I tried to hide it until I was 16, between 13 and 16 I had been with one girl and was starting to see a non-binary person.

I was so tried of hiding myself from my parents but the thing is that I was SO scared.

I wanted to come out so bad to finally be free and myself, and here in Switzerland they’re pretty nice with the LGBTQ+ community but my family is italian and from where they are it’s not that acceptable..

One day I took my chances and wrote a letter that i left on my mother’s desk and went to school.

At the end of a science class I remember being so nervous to check my phone, but when I did I saw that I had a text from my dad and one from my mom.

I opened them after a little freaking out and they just said that they didnt care and would love me no matter what, and that I’ll always be their babygirl.

And what do you know, today when my mom sees something rainbow she takes a picture and sends it to me which I find very cute.

On the 13th april 2020 it will be my coming out one year anniversary and wow.

Life is so much happier when you’re authentic to yourself.

I am very thankful to be in a very accepting space, whether it’s ALL my friends or my family, I know I am very lucky.

I am so thankful to be able to live the life I live and love who I want to love. But i probably wouldn’t have had the strength of coming out if i had not seen such good LGBT representation, like Waverly and Nicole and others..

I am out and free and I wish you all, reading this, to be happy and don’t forget that you do not owe anyone a coming out. Only do it if you feel like you are safe.

Take care of yourself. I’m proud of you.

Lesbian

I didn’t come out until 2015 at 25 years old. I definitely questioned my sexuality starting in high school, and at times throughout my late teens/early 20s, but due to the environment I had grown up in (a small closed-minded, country community) I always pushed it away or tried to think of an “excuse” as to why I was always drawn towards women. I was raised in a family that was Mormon on my mom’s side.. My parents divorced when I was very young, and living with my mom, I was essentially made to follow the Mormon faith as a young child/teen. I was very, what people called, “tomyboy-ish” as a kid. I hated wearing girl’s clothing and dresses. I enjoyed wearing baggy jeans and t-shirts throughout most of my school years. This caused me to never even have any “boyfriends” as I wasn’t “attractive” to them. I had friends who would try and “change” me, and dress me up and want to give me make overs, but nothing stuck. Things changed drastically for me when I discovered the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer in middle school. My style began to change to become more “feminine” as I wanted to dress more like the characters in the show. At this point, I had friends who wanted me to date guys and I was constantly asked if I had a crush on any boys at school. I never did, though at times would say so just to shut people up. As I got farther into Buffy and witnessed the relationship between Willow and Tara develop, it opened my eyes to the fact that there was more then boys and girls as couples. I didn’t have any education on gay relationships before this, and when I started asking questions was told that it was a “sin” and that god made “Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve”. My freshman year, I actually had a crush on one of the girls in my grade, and tried to befriend her, as she was one of the nicer people in my class. I was crushed when I found out that she had started telling people that I was weird. (To be honest, I was in a new school, and I wore my long “Buffy” black leather jacket all the time, so maybe I was?) Regardless, it shut me down so hard and I was internally embarrassed with myself for even thinking I could like her like that. Aside from this, I had always been a movie buff growing up. However, I had always been drawn to the women in films. I never cared about the guys. I guess the easiest way to explain it was that when my friends and I would watch movies and shows whilst they were cheering for the girl to “kiss the guy”, I was always cheering more for “kiss the girl”. Looking back now, I had huge crushes on Nicole Kidman, Vivien Leigh, Renee Zellweger, etc. Back then though, I was scared to think of it in those terms so I always just told people I “admired” them (which I did too) when they asked why I was so obsessed. (I mean, I literally convinced my Mormon grandfather to get me a custom pastel drawing of Nicole Kidman from Moulin Rouge for Christmas one year, and he didn’t question ANYTHING about that?!). Anyway, watching Willow and Tara’s relationship on the show, made me continue to question whether I was gay myself. I would mention that they were my favorite characters and relationship on the show to family members at times, but no one ever asked me to elaborate or said anything. Eventually, I suppressed that part of me for several more years. I tried going on dates with a couple of boys in college, but never felt comfortable. I eventually resigned myself to be “forever alone” as I was scared to question my sexuality any more, but also didn’t want to date any boys. Fast forward to 2014- in the small county where I lived, all of my friends were now dating other people, moving in together, and getting engaged. I became severely depressed as I was tired of feeling so alone. One of the things I always turned to when I was depressed would be Buffy. I started re-watching the show in mid 2014, and as I, again, saw the relationship between Willow and Tara unfold, it became clear to me that I was gay. I still struggled to say it out loud. I was too afraid to do so. In my head I felt like the second I said it aloud I wouldn’t be able to hide it, and then my family would know, and my dad (who I was certain was homophobic) and my mom who didn’t agree with the lifestyle would disown me or my mom would kick me out. Finally in the fall of 2014, I said it out loud to myself in my room one night. I remember having just watched the episode “New Moon Rising” of Buffy where Willow chooses to pursue her feelings and relationship with Tara. It felt so good to say out loud to myself, but I didn’t feel safe telling anyone else, not even my best friend. I realized that I wasn’t in an environment where I felt comfortable doing so. Luckily, in the beginning of 2015, I had a friend reach out to me that I had made during my brief stint on the Disney College Program, and say that she needed another roommate in Florida. I had been looking to go back and work for the company, and also desperate to get out of Virginia and the environment I had been surrounded by. Right before I moved down, I had a phone call with my younger sister on the phone one night. I said the words, and came out to her. It was terrifying at the time, and I asked her to not say anything to anyone else. She was super supportive and chill about it, which I had kind of figured for her, but it was still scary. Moving back down to Florida right after was the best decision I could have ever made. I came out to my 2 roommates that were also some of my best friends, and as they shared more values like mine, they were also super supportive and nonchalant about it. I remember my roommate Josh saying in the car the day I told him, “Okay cool”, and that was it. And it was SO nice not having to give an explanation or answer question after question. After coming out to them, I didn’t feel like I was constantly hiding myself anymore, and since I was new to Florida again, I didn’t have to pretend. I could just be my normal self. Of course I didn’t go around yelling it out at people, but I didn’t hide or feel uncomfortable when people would ask about my sexuality. It was freeing. That fall I went back home and came out to all of my friends back in Virginia. Same as before with my sister and roommates, they were so supportive. The only people I had yet to tell were my parents. A year later in 2016 I took a trip back to Virginia again, this time with the plan to tell my parents and step-parents. During the trip my mom had made several comments throughout the week that made me feel like I couldn’t tell her. I chickened out and didn’t say anything. My time with my dad and stepmom was different, but I was not sure how to approach the subject. I ended up not having to, as the day I was supposed to fly back, my stepmom looked at me and flat out asked “are you gay?”. I took this as my chance, and just said “yep”. She asked a few more questions, told me she loved me, and suggested that I should tell my dad later on the way to the airport. I didn’t really get that chance, because I guess she told him first. As we sat in the car and I tried to find a way to bring it up, my dad said, “I hear you have something you want to tell me”. I was very confused and slightly annoyed, but said that I did, and asked what my stepmom had told him. He said that she had clued him in a bit, and that he loved me. I didn’t know what to say at that point. I guess I really didn’t get to come out to him, because he must’ve pieced it together from what he had been told. At that point, I let it go and didn’t worry about it. We’ve still never had a full conversation about me being gay, but I think that’s just the way my dad and I work. The following spring, my sister called me and said “can you please tell mom? she’s been asking me lots of questions and won’t let it go.” I figured over the phone was better than waiting until I saw her again, so I called her up the next day, and had a regular conversation with her. At the end though, I told her that I was going to answer a question that she had been prodding my sister about. I told her I was gay, and her first response was “when did you decide that?”. This prompted a very frustrating and emotionally fueled call that ended well for the most part. I don’t know how much my mom’s opinion has changed regarding LGBTQ+ rights, as I’m honestly afraid to ask her. These days she asks about my dating life and such, so it feels like she’s understanding and making an effort to understand and be a better ally. It is SO nice to be able to travel home, and not feel like I have to hide anything from any of them or pretend to be someone different, and to be able to crack jokes, and talk openly. I realize that I am very lucky when it comes to how my family reacted to my coming out, even though I expected the worst. I hope that one day, any and everyone who might still be hiding a part of themselves, feels that freedom and weight lifted. I also hope that one day we won’t have to “come out”, and that we can just love who we want without it being called into question.

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

Enjoying the journey – bisexual, she/her

I was 26 years old when I finally realized I was attracted to women. Looking back, I have absolutely no idea how I missed it before. I grew up in the southern United States where the idea of being gay isn’t well received. I was raised in the Mormon religion and being gay definitely didn’t align with those teachings so I think my brain worked overtime to justify my attractions as anything other than what they really were. So instead of just growing up thinking I was into guys and girls- I thought I was weird. I remember in high school I had a crush on one of the college girls who volunteered as one of my soccer coaches. She borrowed my hoodie once during a game and I didn’t want to wash it because it smelled like her. But instead of realizing (and enjoying) my crush, I felt like a creep. I would like to say that once I finally realized I was bisexual that it was liberating and exciting, it was actually scary. I didn’t know how to reconcile my religion with my sexuality. The thought of telling anyone and especially my family terrified me. I didn’t want to be judged or viewed differently. I spent a lot of time wishing we lived in a different world. Love should be celebrated in all of its forms and if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s loving people. It took a few years of me slowly coming out to close friends before I finally hit a point of not only acceptance of who I am, but also excitement and pride. I still haven’t come out to my family. I know that their religious beliefs will make it difficult for them and I’m waiting a bit longer to spare their feelings. But in the meantime, I’m learning to honor who I am and be as authentic as possible. I still have plenty of learning and growing to do on my journey, but I’m becoming less fearful and more excited about the future.

The real Juls

I’m currently 28 years old and my journey started in the form of a great internal storm when I was 16 years old, I was studying in a religious school and to be honest Colombia in those years was not a progressive and comfortable environment to talk about issues such as diversity and sexual orientation.
I grew up in a catholic family, my school was catholic, and my training was guided by the principles of a catholic family, so anything that came out of that pattern was labeled taboo or people just made offensive jokes about it. During high school my friends always talked about boys, all my close friends had a boyfriend in the same classroom or in the same school and in the meantime I saw the boys only as friends, the idea of ​​having a boyfriend never crossed my mind, in fact it always seemed irrelevant to me. With the girls it was very different, I felt that “something” that was absent when I saw a boy, but I always kept silent because, due to my ignorance, I thought it was something irrelevant and temporary, perhaps simple admiration.
At university nothing changed, I saw a girl and I still felt the same but this time with a little more freedom to obtain information I was able to find too many articles and LGBT content that helped me to know that something real was happening to me. When I finished university, 6 years had already passed and what started as a storm inside me became an authentic apocalypse, it was many years where the silence had wreaked havoc. What was stopping me? My family. I imagined a situation where I would tell my family and terror would take over because I could hear their voices saying “What have we failed at?”, So to release some of that destructive anxiety I started by telling my closest friends and they gave me that warmth and understanding I needed to keep myself sane at least until I told my family. It took me another year to gather all the strength to tell my family that it only consists of my mother and godmother that I’m a lesbian. The terror I felt when I told them is indescribable, my lips and throat were dry, I could not formulate a coherent phrase and my body was blocked but I could do it and I could feel free, that was…like 4 or 5 years ago I don’t remember well and I still feel that my mother has not assimilated it 100% because she is also the connection with my father’s family and I know that no one in that circle knows it, only my godmother’s family knows it.
I am an only child, perhaps that is why my mother still doesn’t fully assimilate it because she expected from me what almost all parents expect from their children: husband/wife and children but it doesn’t matter because my mother already knows and she will not see me with masks and lying to her, she will understand it 100% someday. Right now I’m calm, there are not storms inside me anymore.

Anonymous – Pansexual

I knew I was part of the community when I was 7 because I had crushes on both genders but I was scared to tell anyone and specifically my family. And I am still scared to tell my family to this day. Unfortunately, because of this barrier / secret I have, I became emotionally distant from them since I was around 13. I told a couple of my close friends when I was 15-16 and they were all accepting of it. Luckily I lived in a diverse city but my immediate family / community are very close minded. Growing up, although my friends knew, I didn’t really have a community I can rely on. So, I’m so glad to have found Wynonna Earp because Earpers and the community helped me discover and accept who I am. I was scared to even say the phrase “I am queer” to anyone before Earpers. Now, I say it quite often and hopefully one day I will have the courage to say it to my family. So, thank you Earpers and Wynonna Earp for the community.

I identify myself as a loving human being.

I knew from a very young age, maybe 5 or 6 that I was attracted to women in the most innocent of ways but drawn to women nonetheless. I was different than most girls that had surrounded me, all I was able to comprehend was that I was different. Even at such a young age, I felt that that was a part of me that needed to be masked.
I carried on with life slowly realizing and coming to terms with my sexuality. Yet still, suppressing a part of me that got harder and harder to suppress.
I was 21 when I came out to family and the few people I am closest to. I am grateful every single day for them, being as lovely as they were and are about it.
It’s beautiful to realize that you’re beautiful too.
I just know now that this story never really ends, it’s just gets easier to tell.