By Mikans For Mikans
Stories that shimmer, voices that roar.A vibrant celebration of identity, love, resilience, and pride.— welcome to a little rainbow-splashed corner of the world, where glitter meets grit and every page pulses with pride. This zine is a love letter to the LGBTQIA+ community — to our stories, our art, our laughter, and the fierce beauty of simply being ourselves. Pride isn’t just a parade; it’s a pulse, a protest, a party, and a promise. I’m beyond excited to share this meaningful collection with you — crafted with care, color, and a whole lot of queer joy. Let’s celebrate out loud. 🌈
I identify as non-binary and asexual. In regards to non-binary, I ascribe to the idea of no gender rather than the idea of a fluctuating gender. As for my asexuality, personally it stems from a place of repulsion and a complete lack of specifically sexual attraction.
I could describe my journey as knowing something but it’s on the tip of your tongue.
Though I often felt estranged from my classmates even younger than this, I believe around middle school I was acutely aware that the way I perceived my own gender or the lack of thoughts about certain topics was different from my peers. I had a hard time relating or wanting to do certain things because of my perceived gender and I most definitely did not understand why or how people found each appealing specifically physically. A funny conversation I was reminded of recently was when I once asked my dad in around the 6th grade if I was allowed to date and of course he said no. I remember asking him that because I felt like I needed a reason for my lack of interest in this way socially and my justification for about four years after that when the topic was brought up was because my dad said no, which then somehow made the lack of those thoughts logical.
As I continued to get older I began realizing through conversations with one of my siblings, who is also queer, making more ‘outcast’ friends, and through research online that much of the experience I had growing up were along the non-binary and ace spectrum.
In relation to family, I am not much of a family person so despite particular members of my family being aware of the identity I have come to use, it’s not something that I think is openly discussed or wholly accepted by most minus with my siblings. But I feel fortunate that I have not had the experience of shunning or banishment due to my identity within my own family, just the extremely heated and personal arguments instead.
Being more firm about my identity, especially post-uni, has been a big moment for me. I am generally incredibly private about my own internal dialogue so being able to even share with others that I am non-binary has been strangely something for me to overcome, not so much because I fear the reaction, but more so because it feels private in my head. Though I definitely still struggle with it sometimes, opting to tolerate she/her pronouns around certain groups. Asexuality, on the other hand, is still something I don’t bring up unless prompted.
Visibility has always been an interesting issue in my journey. It could be argued, at first glance I am not the most visibly gay individual. As a result, to me what makes someone visible comes a lot more from mannerisms, speech, and interest. I can’t say that I think there is a defined or stereotypical way members of the LGBT+ community act, but at times interacting with other people in a public space you can immediately feel there is something not so normative about them if that makes sense.
I’ve never had a specific inspiration I believe, but lately over the last few years I’ve come to appreciate how open Utada Hikaru is with their non-binary identity. I find it inspiring in a way that someone as notorious as them can be open and have an interesting dialogue about this identity.
At first I thought I don’t really express myself creatively in a queer way, but then I remembered all of my OCs I’ve ever drafted stories for or thought of are lesbian.
I find the best advice I can give is to ignore labeling yourself. I think there is still a great emphasis from many members of the community to be sure of who you are even if that label changes eventually, but I feel it actually slows the process of working through your identity because you become so tied to an experience under a certain label. For me especially, it was helpful to label myself under queer for a long time whilst using she/they pronouns as I worked through my own identity.
I feel that asexuality is one of the most misunderstood identities. Much of that, I believe, has to do with the incredibly wide range many people tend to categorize under asexuality. Probably some of the most common misconceptions about asexuals is that asexuality is a result of sexual trauma and it turns them celibate (celibacy being the other), asexuality being a mental disorder, resulting from a lack of experience or not finding the right person, or that asexuality is not apart of the queer umbrella. I suppose I wish that more people would steer away from that way of thinking as it’s simply untrue. As many identities do, the experience of an asexual of course can vary from repulsion to engaging in sexual behavior for one reason or another (not always because of sexual attraction or libido).
I feel the most empowered through the people I surround myself with nowadays. The gradual openness I currently practice about my identity is definitely easier with the support of my friend groups. The privacy I practiced before definitely was conscious due to the people I was surrounded by during my schooling days.
I don’t feel it has shaped my familial relationships due to my feelings about family in that regard, but having queer friends, and especially in regards to a partner, has become incredibly important as I’ve grown older. Not to say that I outright refuse to be friends or converse with those who are not, but the people closest to me tend to be non-conforming. I’ve found that those who have similar values to me in this way allow me to have a long lasting and not as turbulent relationship that we both enjoy fostering because it’s easier to find a mutual respect. Having those kinds of friendships definitely is important for sanity sake.
I wish that I knew that I didn’t have to tolerate some things just because I recognized that my way of thinking was abnormal. My way of thinking being abnormal is not a justification to be coerced to engaging in activities I don’t wish to partake in.
I think I’ve yet to come to celebrate it, I’m not necessarily sure what it means to celebrate my identity but I can say I am self-content at least.
I personally identify as gay/fluid as gender and sexual identity is ever dynamic and often evolves throughout time in one’s life
I recently came out as gay to my family back in 2023. It was a long journey to finally arrive at a place where I felt comfortable talking about my sexuality as a cis-black American male due to stigmas surrounding queer people in general in the African American community. Also the fact that much of my family to this day holds fundamentalist Christian beliefs meant that growing up in the church environment surrounded by evangelistic piety often meant humbly, in my case, growing up around homophobia, the damning of queer sexuality, and often the rejection of faiths or lack thereof as justifications for discriminatory behavior to silence my inner truth. However, by practicing patience in the face of homophobia and having left organized faith for more accepting communities has allowed me to be more empathetic and grounded in peace and reasoning. The journey has been “long” and “hard”, like other things (chuckle). But in all seriousness, I hope sharing my personal journey of growth and acceptance can help others in the way I wish I could’ve been growing up, and I can happily say that I’ve never been happier than who I am today.
Moving to college, finding communities of other queer people, and watching Rupaul’s Drag Race for the first time. > o <
Growing up, I was told being gay was a sin, or a crime against God and the laws of nature. But I’ve learned since that this statement is totally false. The fact that queerdom, nature, and humanity exist at all means queerdom is as natural as living, breathing and the like. Since those times, I’ve found that self grounding in reason/empathy and the importance of chosen family have allowed me to feel more seen, accepted, and more open to others’ ideas and worldviews.
Means feeling acknowledged and accepted despite differences in personal identity. For me, this means loving and being loved and appreciated as one is, regardless of differences in creed or self identity.
I had a senpai/mentor back when I first started college named Bria. She is a queer person of color who was very outspoken and cozy with their identity. Watching her be herself so comfortably and naturally, both unapologetically kind and gay at the same time made me want to have a heart as big as hers. I hope I can mimic even a little of amount of the passion and love she showed to everyone, especially towards disadvantaged and marginalized groups.
To me, a chosen family is having close relationships with people who accept your identity wholeheartedly, are there to love and support you, and who make you feel valued and wanted.
Its okay to not have all the answers about your identity, as it often changes and evolves over time. Gender, sexuality and other identities are phenomena for how different people express their inner identities, and it’s okay to take it slow. It’s also important to have someone to talk to who will listen to you and not judge. If you’re queer, you’re NOT ALONE! Speak up and find community members or allies who support and love you.
In the gay community, it’s common for people to be lumped into “tribes” or categories of identities that describe certain groups. “Bears”, “twinks”, “jocks” or whatever. But it can be toxic when one is expected to fit into a group identity in order to have a “label” which others can use to identify your queerness. However I think it’s really important to recognize that not everyone always fits into a group identity and that’s totally okay. Yeah I’m gay but that doesn’t mean I want to go party all night at a circuit club, nor do I want to “Dress gay appropriate” or be criticized for not being a “real gay”.
Coming out has let me feel loved and free in a way I’ve never been able to experience before up until now. It’s a new feeling for me, so I’m still exploring this identity, however it’s been freeing to talk to friends and some family living in my truth, even if drama still occasionally occurs. I’m dating openly for the first time and it feels exciting! I have a close relationship with my mother, and siblings. There’s still homophobia lurking in some relationships in my family and even though that might not ever change, I’ve accepted that possibility and have found my peace anyways. Everyday continues to be a new day that I cherish living free and true.
Life gets easier as you mature and gain freedom. DON’T kiss those random boys in college cause you’ll get Mono. Eat more fiber. Even if you have body image issues, and people call you chicken legs, don’t pay them no mind. Prove em wrong, eat more, reduce stress, be patient, and it’ll pay off. A lot of the internalized stress you felt growing up (butterflies in the stomach) all the time is not normal. Addressing mental health and treating anxiety by talking to a doctor will change the course of your identity in ways that you didn’t know were possible.
I love watching Drag Race, drag queens, and attending pride festivals. My love language is cooking as food is closely associated with my passion and identity, so anytime I can cook for someone makes me happy.
My Name is Andrew Pappas. I’m from Pittsburgh PA and I have been in Ehime on JET for 4 years now. I’m about to start my 5th and final year. In addition to being an ALT I am also a gay illustrator and comic artist under the pen name Rrougarou.
I largely do self published work for the furry community of which I belong to. My gay furry themed illustrations and comics are something I’ve tried to keep on the down low for years because there is a HUGE stigma and bigotry (rooted in trans and homophobia) against the furry community and I didn’t want people to judge me. But since I moved here to Japan, I’ve learned to be more confident and proud of my artwork. It’s gone from a “shameful” little side project to my main focus of the breath of my artwork. For me queer furry art helped me discover and explore my sexuality throughout my life.
I grew up under Catholicism in rural Pennsylvania and there was little positive queer representation around me to the point that I never realized I was gay. It wasn’t until I encountered gay furry in college that I started to realize I wasn’t straight. I stayed in the closet till I was 28 for fear of being disowned by my family and losing any chance to have a nuclear family of my own one day. I feel so much better and more myself now that I’m out, even though coming out was a traumatic negative experience. I still feel like a baby gay in many respects, but through my art and comics I try to grow and develop into the strong gay man I never got to become as a gay child and teen.
This pride month I want to remember all the people still trapped in the closet and how stressful and debilitating it is. I hope that one day we can build a more accepting world where no one will have to hide who they truly are, suffering in silence. I want my queerness to be visible so that they can see it’s okay to be who you are. Being gay is a wonderful and beautiful thing, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world!
I suppose I’d identify as pansexual or bisexual. The specific word doesn’t really matter to me. For me, the identity is simply just another fact about me, rather than something that informs how I see myself.
Well 😅…I come from a conservative family. They have changed over time in regard to how strict their attitudes are. But when I was in middle school and beginning to explore some of these feelings, ohhh boy. I would’ve preferred they handled that differently, is all I’ll say.
I think it felt more pertinent at the time that I was just discovering and thinking about these things, because I felt like I was trying to defend and define my identity. Now, it’s not something I think about often. I take pride in just being myself, including this part of my identity.
Not having to lessen any part of me to fit a mold.
Recently? Arcane.
I’ve traveled around so much as an adult, losing friends by going from place to place so often, and often being a long way from my family. So I’ve kind of had to find a “chosen family” in each new place I go to. People who have my back when the struggles of being in a new place rear their head.
I feel that queer women have only really enjoyed mainstream representation in the past decade or so. When people used to think of a “queer” person, they’d think of a gay man. There’s still some of that, but I think times are changing.
I think being “queer” is less something I need to express myself with creatively, and is just baked into my way of life. I think living in a way that goes against heteronormative, patriarchal, prescribed society can be considered a queer expression.
Be patient with yourself. There is no timeline. There is no race. Be kind to yourself, and take your time with it.
My choice to date a man does not preclude me from past or future choices to date a woman.
Improved media — Arcane is so great!
I don’t know why, but I have noticed I tend to have a very queer set of friends. We’re like magnets to each other.
Let it go. The bad times are going to pass.
Me just being alive and healthy today — there’s no greater celebration than this.
Since the moment I understood in late primary school that it wasn’t ”the norm” for boys to want to be kissed by the Disney Prince saving the day, I’ve identified as gay. I came out to my friends and family really early – in the fourth grade – and it made me the person people around me would approach when they were questioning their own sexuality.
Knowing I was gay and coming out itself were both very easy, but actually feeling like I could live “out and proud” has taken a lot of time. I come from a moderately conservative Catholic background, and both of my parents reacted extremely negatively. All of my actions were hyper-criticized: my hands moved too much; I walked strangely; I wouldn’t stop making moon eyes at men; I didn’t speak “con huevos.” None of my friends at that age were out, and I didn’t know any gay people around me. All I knew were the caricatures of gay people on novellas and my parents’ rants, that if I didn’t stop I would be doomed to my life ending in a hospital bed covered in sores and wasting away to SIDA. It made me feel extremely isolated even when my friends were accepting and protective of me, and there was an omnipresent feeling of existential dread.
I remember so clearly, my mother proclaiming that only women even had the capacity to like men in a romantic way, and being unable to get her to understand that I knew what I was feeling. Still, I wasn’t like the friends of her sons, who enjoyed roughhousing and sports and showing off how strong they were. I was an indoor kid who liked to read and write stories, and in my friend group everyone considered me “one of the girls.” It became a question for me of whether I was even a man, especially because my parents doubled down on their image of being gay, which was an amalgamation of crossdressing/drag, homosexuality, and transness mixed with all the associated stereotypes. There was this academic summer camp I used to go to during middle school where there was an established tradition of “drag day”, where everyone would swap clothing with people of the opposite gender. I asked my friends if they would fully glam me out and treat me like an actual girl for the day. I strutted around in heels, a dress and a face full of makeup expecting something to magically click but at the end of the day, I came back to my dorm and saw myself in the mirror and broke down sobbing. When I think back on what exactly I was feeling, it’s hard to exactly put into words other than a sense of overwhelmingness. I wiped away the makeup and felt like I was seeing myself truly for the first time, and yet I still felt so alone. In that moment, it felt as though not only was I accepting myself for who I was, I was condemning my relationship with my parents to an eventual unraveling.
I felt unmoored and adrift. It felt like my queerness had ravaged my familial relationships, and put an unintentional strain on my platonic and romantic relationships. Suddenly, every friend was a co-conspirator in the eyes of my parents, and they were unabashed in their negative energy towards anyone they thought who was encouraging my choices. Any crush and blooming romance had to hold the weight of being the potential altar on which I sacrificed my relationship with my family, and more often than not I was too afraid to let myself jump. Still, at the same time, I feel that where I let myself be vulnerable with people, the relationships I formed were more strengthened by the pressure they were forged under.
For a long time, a lot of my ability to exist as out and proud have been resigned to being on paper and the internet. It’s hard for a lot of people to believe now but I was a very silent kid, and even now I’m still an introvert who is pretty shy around new people. I spent so much time writing queer short stories in journals as an out to explore all the things I wasn’t able to in my teens. I still write, and though I don’t share it anywhere, it’s been very helpful for processing my emotions.
In middle school my friends introduced me to manga, and I stumbled on BL and yaoi almost immediately. I was definitely too young to be reading what I was finding on the scanlation sites I was using, but I remember for the first time feeling seen. Not only were there gay characters, they were adults with full jobs and homes, and yes, many of them were full of pain and hurt and rejection. Yet despite that, they always managed to find happiness and love and – startlingly – for the first time I was actually able to picture life after 18 in a way I had never been able to.
It’s really strange to think about my own visibility, because I’ve been out for the vast majority of my life, and yet so much of that time has been insular reflection and learning. In truth, I spent so long navigating what was palatable to my parents that only in the past few years have I gotten to feel truly out. I went to my first ever pride parade just last year in Kōchi. It was an incredible experience and I got way more emotional than I ever thought I’d be. All the small things in the last year since living on my own – painting my nails for the first time, displaying queer books on my shelves, putting small rainbow pins on my bag – are not revolutionary or out there and yet they’re all so new to me. I wish I could go back and tell myself that as impossible as it seemed, things got better.
It means standing up for what’s right. It means acceptance and understanding. It means being someone’s peace. Being a friend. To have respect. To have empathy. It means community and unity, safety and security. It means to choose people over prejudice, and most importantly, it means to have humanity. Not only on LGBTQIA+ issues, but all human rights issues. If some of us aren’t free, none of us are.
I was born this way! It’s always been clear to me that everyone deserves to have equal rights and be accepted and even embraced by society.
When my best friend came out as trans. I was so happy they finally started to feel like their true self! Unfortunately, we quickly realized that doing that was dangerous. They began getting assaulted in the halls at school, they received death threats, and they even had rumors spread about them. Even though I was always an ally, that pushed me to want to do more than I was. Sometimes being an ally means sharing the danger they face and helping them fight through it by fighting too.
Many times. When I was young, I had quite a temper when it came to that stuff. (I still kinda do). When my friend started receiving death threats or was assaulted at school, I was always the first to step in and argue on their behalf. It even got violent at times. I can’t say that was the best way to confront prejudice, but it did manage to get the message across.
Keeping up with relevant events, policies, and personal experiences are great ways to stay educated. I also find that listening to and/or participating in debates leads to discovering things that you may not have discovered otherwise. But the most effective method to educate yourself is to get involved in the community, however you can.
By not tolerating bigotry. Sometimes that means educating people, sometimes it means excluding them to maintain a safe space.
Of course! As someone passionate about social justice, I frequently engage in challenging conversations with others about inclusion. Sometimes, these conversations lead to a positive change in attitude toward inclusion; those are the conversations I live for, but sometimes, people can get too stuck in the rhetoric of anti-LGBTQIA+ politicians, influencers or religious leaders. Despite this, it’s important to have these conversations.
Hey, Mikans!
Thanks for checking out this month’s maga(ZINE) that celebrates Pride. We hope you enjoyed it! We also want to give a special thanks to every who contributed to making it both our biggest and best ZINE yet!
See you next month!