Embracing Bisexuality

The word "bisexual" wasn't in my vocabulary until the age of 14. The idea of being gay, or attracted to someone of the same gender, was something I had understood and fully wrapped my head around. I never struggled with empathizing or respecting gay men or women. I felt a kinship there, but I feared exploring that part of myself. I grew up in two conservative places: Salt Lake City, Utah and Philipsburg, Montana. Neither were inherently "anti-gay" when I was growing up, it just wasn't a topic we covered even on a personal level.

At the time when some kids experiment, I did, but it was always silly or a party game. It took one conversation with a friend who admitted she was bi for the reality of my own sexuality to click. It was a lightbulb moment for me, but it wasn't easy for me to tell people.

Shame manifests itself in many ways, and for me, being in a straight-passing relationship, I couldn't even breathe a word about the true nature of my sexuality. Not only was I a fraud of a bi-woman, I was drawing unnecessary attention to my sexuality, since I was in fact committed to a young man. I kept hearing the same conversation around bisexuality— it was simply a phase that people went through before realizing they were straight or gay. It was an experiment, not a solid state of being. Temporary.

I neatly folded this false-truth about myself, and shoved it into the bowels of my soul. The human soul has a way of defying the most logical of approaches, and years later I was crying to my husband about how I wasn't fully myself when I hid this piece. It may not make sense, but I needed it to be out there, in the universe. I did not want to hide from the light anymore. Even if only the people closest to me were the only ones to know, it mattered. It wasn't a phase for me, being attracted to women and men.

Still a little too cautious, I told people as the topic was broached over a few years. Coming out terrified me, as I worried people would know see me in this very sexual light. I worried they would assume I was no longer in a monogamous relationship, or worse, somehow deeply attracted to them simply because I was open to the idea. They would over analyze a joke, a smile, a touch. Now? I recognize that as Not My Problem. Some people still probably don't know, or think they misheard me. It no longer bothers me that they hide those thoughts from themselves, as long as I myself am not hidden.

To know oneself is to love oneself. And I love who I am, and how I love, and what makes me me. Being bisexual is a beautiful gift, and I wouldn't change it. Not for anything.