The phrase “coming out” can make it seem like a discrete one-time event, like there’s one grand ceremony where we announce our sexuality, never to have to explain ourselves again. But most queer folks who have come out in one capacity or another will be likely to tell you that’s… not it.
I obviously cannot speak for the experiences of all queer people – we are a highly varied bunch, and my privilege as a cis, able-bodied white person means I won’t encounter the same challenges as trans or BIPOC queer folks. Instead, I’ll share with you my coming out journey as a femme bisexual woman.
Coming Out as Bisexual, Part 1
The first time I came out, I was eighteen. I tentatively raised the idea to my then-boyfriend, more a question than a statement, even though it felt very real to me.
“I think I like girls too,” I said, averting my eyes from his in true avoidant fashion. His response? “I don’t think so, but maybe we could bring another girl into the bedroom sometime.”
Pause for a harrrrrd eye roll. Ugh.
You see, for many of us coming out is something that happens again and again and again over the course of our lives. Unfortunately, the world still likes to assume heterosexuality as the default. For those of us on the bi+ continuum (ie folks attracted to more than one gender), our attraction is often altogether dismissed, filtered through the lens of male pleasure, or both.
This lackluster reception of my coming out shoved me right back into the closet, where I would hide in secret for many more years. While I would express my bisexuality to a handful of close friends over that time, I had no idea how to how to be bi. It was clear to me that men only cared for my bisexuality if it meant they could see two girls kissing, and internalized homophobia meant I had absolutely no idea how to approach women romantically. I resigned myself to an all-too-normalized life of pining after women in private and pursuing men in public.
All of that changed when I moved to Toronto.
Coming Out as Bisexual, Part 2
Fast-forward to New Years Eve, 2015. After a quiet night in (I’ve always preferred smaller gatherings to alcohol-fueled ragers), I sit down to sketch out my goals for the year ahead. Having graduated from a university near my hometown a year prior and with no clear path laid out before me, I find myself writing “Move to Toronto”.
Three months later, I land a job at a small company located in the northeast of Toronto. I load my small car with cardboard boxes full of possessions – I don’t own much, so it’s a quick pack – and that weekend, I move to an Airbnb in Scarborough. My Toronto story has begun!
For the first few months in the city, I was dating an ex-boyfriend – he was the only person I knew from before. As I settled into my new life, I started to get bolder in my sense of self. Without the perceived shackles of how I “should” behave coming from the people who knew me before my move, I felt free to be messy, to try to sort my shit out. The more I grew, the further my ex and I drifted from one another, now entirely different people. We broke up shortly after. A weight was lifted from my shoulders, a phenomenon I would later recognize as me finally letting go of my hetero-presenting persona.
Coming Out as Bisexual, Part 3
This ushered in my hot girl summer era, in a time before Megan had coined the term (and during a cold season that was decidedly un-summer-like – hot girl winter?). I proudly wore the bisexual label, pronouncing it to anyone who wanted to talk about dating or attraction, overcorrecting in a bid to atone for years of being closeted.
I signed up for dating apps, set my preferences to “all genders,” and prepared to be flooded with queer dates.
Throughout this experience, my sexuality was called into question by various people. Explicitly – when people expressed shock or disbelief that I was bi – or implicitly – when people incorrectly assumed I was straight without seeking clarification. The cycle of coming out again and again had begun. In true queer fashion, this hurt, but it also strengthened my sense of self.
It wasn’t until I started seeing my current partner that people slowed down on presuming heterosexuality. Mind you, the script had only shifted a bit – many people still thought me hetero when they met me solo, assuming I was a lesbian if I was with my partner – but it was a bit of a change.
Coming Out Day
My journey as a queer person has been a long one, and it still continues through to today. I don’t know if there will ever be a point in my life where I feel like I’ve finished coming out. But I do know that I am bisexual and proud.
To my fellow queers, you are so valid exactly as you are. The journey to self-love is long and winding, particularly if you’ve been raised in an environment that teaches you who you are is not okay. Let’s scream it from the rooftops: Queer is beautiful! Figuring yourself out is a process of unlearning and relearning! The work you have to do to realize you’re queer, then to come out as such, is divine work! Not everyone goes through it, and that is a testament to your strength!
To my ally friends, we need your help! Today and every day please work to check your assumptions. Heteronormativity is socialized into us all, and it takes active effort to rewrite that conditioning. Just because someone appears straight, doesn’t mean they are. 2SLGBTQ+ folks have to put so much time and effort into how they choose to come out, and if you are cis and straight this is something you do not have to contend with. Please recognize this as privilege, and work to make this easier for queer people by checking your assumptions and correcting those around you if they express heteronormative or homophobic views.
Happy Coming Out Day, y’all ๐ค๐๐๐ค๐คโค๏ธ๐งก๐๐๐๐
Cheers
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