In September 2021, a member of my organisation’s LGBTQ+ affinity group asked for volunteers to write an article about their experiences as part of a series of content they were creating to highlight Bisexual+ Awareness Week. I didn’t consider it until they put out another ask and mentioned that the contribution could be anonymous if preferred. The reason I wanted to keep my contribution anonymous is because I’ve never really ‘came out’ as bisexual as my sexuality is something I’ve still been figuring out internally over the last few years. At the same time, over the last couple of years I’ve been having more and more conversations with people about my sexuality (and finding out that a lot of people have had similar experiences to me!) so haven’t necessarily been hiding it either.
At the time of writing this article I didn’t feel safe expressing myself fully at work for various reasons and that was another contributing factor as to why I wanted to keep it anonymous. However, I now feel that I’m in a place where I can be more open about this aspect of myself and since it’s currently Pride Month I wanted to share the piece I initially wrote in case it resonates with anyone or acts as a reminder not to assume you know a person’s sexuality, even if you’ve known them for a long time. Sexuality is complex and it can change for people at any time so it’s important for us to be aware of this in our interactions with people whatever the setting. I feel really lucky to be part of communities that accept me for who I am. However, I’m fully aware that this isn’t the case for everyone which means we still have a lot of work to do as a society to ensure that everyone feels safe to be who they are.
“When we think about sexuality, we often think about people as either being out or still ‘in the closet’. I wanted to write about my experience as I feel it’s somewhere in between. Whilst it’s amazing that we’ve made enough progress in society (although still not enough) to have more frequent, nuanced conversations around sexuality, I feel like this can sometimes give us the false impression that our learning journey is done and we understand everything there is to know in this area. It’s not surprising that we want to feel this way as our brains are designed to try and make sense of things we don’t understand but the reality is that sexuality is incredibly complex, messy, different for everyone and often doesn’t make ‘sense’ to us.
I am a cisgender-woman and when I was young I remember having romantic feelings and physical attraction towards men yet also feeling physical attraction towards women. This was incredibly confusing for me as sexuality wasn’t discussed the way it is now, and definitely not with children. I pushed these feelings down throughout my teenage years and early twenties and only pursued hetero-sexual romantic relationships. This continued to be the case even as I learned more about sexuality, the societal stigma around it and became more accepting of others’ sexual identities. I believed that because I wasn’t interested in pursuing romantic relationships with women it was impossible for me to be bisexual and instead I believed there was something wrong with me and I was broken in some way. Even if I had felt it was possible for me to be bisexual despite not feeling romantic attraction towards women, I assumed that no-one would believe me if I came out because I’d only ever been in hetero-relationships. I remember being at university and one of my friends coming out as gay. Most peoples’ response was ‘how can she know if she’s never been with a woman?’. I agreed with those comments at the time but I now recognize how ridiculous it was that we’d ask that question when we’d never ask a child how they know they’re straight if they’ve never been with anyone of the opposite gender. I realise now that I had internalised our societal narratives around sexuality and imposed them not only on others but also on myself, which is a scary thought. My friends’ comments only confirmed to me what I had already believed; people wouldn’t believe me if I said I wasn’t straight.
Over the last couple of years, I have slowly started to come to terms with my sexuality but still when I’m filling out a form and it asks for my sexual orientation I pause and panic and until recently would just click heterosexual as I felt like an imposter who didn’t ‘deserve’ to click anything else. However, recently I’ve been starting to accept that I don’t need to prove anything to anyone and my sexuality is whatever I decide it is. This isn’t a linear process though and I still have moments where I question myself. Because of this I don’t personally really like labelling it at the moment* but I feel that does make it harder to be fully ‘out’. Until my current relationship (with a cisgender heterosexual man), I’d never discussed my sexuality with a partner (or anyone) before so coming out to them was a big step for me. I feel lucky that they were incredibly supportive and understanding and reassured me that this wouldn’t change our relationship but it makes me feel sad knowing that not everyone who’s brave enough to take this step will be received with love and acceptance.
What I hope people will take away from this article is how important it is to never assume anyone’s sexual identity, even if you think you know them inside out. At the risk of sounding cheesy everyone is on their own journey when it comes to sexuality and even if someone told you that they’re straight 5 years ago this doesn’t necessarily mean it will still be the case now. Sexuality is fluid and ever-changing for a lot of people and it’s important to bear this in mind in our interactions with people. I’ve had interactions with colleagues where comments have been made about bi-sexuality that aren’t necessarily offensive but clearly mark people who have that sexual identity as ‘other’ to the group in question e.g. ‘Sometimes I just wish I was bi-sexual’. These kinds of comments put me in an uncomfortable position where I’m forced to either respond in a way that denies my sexual identity which feels harmful to me or reveal my sexual identity and ‘out’ myself involuntarily.
I’m at a stage where if anyone were to directly ask me about my sexuality I don’t think I would lie as that would feel like I was imposing shame on myself but I’m still not ready to be pro-actively open about it yet. I wanted to share my experience as a reminder that there could be lots of colleagues who are still questioning their sexual identity or aren’t ready to come out (some people never are and that’s okay too!) and that we should bear this in mind when we’re making comments about sexuality in all settings, including the workplace.”
* I would probably describe myself as pansexual/bisexual/queer now but still don’t feel particularly attached to one specific label
Pole, PTSD and me 