Trigger warning: mentions of abuse/sexual harassment
“Does that mean you like to have threesomes?”, “Ooooh, can I watch when you make out with a girl?” “Oh shit, that’s so sexy, ya!” “Bisexual, huh? Is that just a stop before becoming a lesbian?” “Bisexual isn’t a real thing! It’ll pass don’t worry” “Why can’t you just stick to one? You want to play the field before deciding, is it?”… “Whatever it is, you’ll finally marry a man only, no?”…
I think I was in my prepubescent era when I had a small crush on a girl, and I never understood it. Just a few days later, I overheard a group of girls talking about someone being a “LESBIAN” in the most derogatory way possible! I panicked. Does that mean I am that??? But I also had a crush on this boy in my class? It was too much for my pre-teen brain to process, and so I buried it deep in the corners of my brain. Without realizing, I was internalizing shame and homophobia, and entering the ever-winding shame spiral.
Stepping into my teen years, came with the raging hormones and more instances and musings of having crushes on both boys and girls. I buried those feelings toward the latter, deeper and deeper until I believed that they didn’t exist. Then one day, I met my bisexual awakening in the form of someone who also became one of my closest friends. It seemed like she was exploring her identity too, or at least was a bit curious if anything. We talked openly about our feelings, and for the first time, I experienced my safe space. For the first time, I started to think about what it all means. We became closer friends and maybe more. Maybe it was love, maybe it was just the excitement of finding someone who felt the same way. But like a fragile soap bubble, it just popped one day. Maybe she felt she was not ready to explore that side of her, or she just didn’t want that kind of bond with me! A little heartbroken, I took those feelings once again and buried them even deeper than I did before. Although we made up later, and she is still one of my closest friends, she remains a bittersweet part of my journey to discovering and exploring my sexuality.
Just as most girls do at least once in college, I dated boys, ignored any feelings that I felt towards anyone of any other gender. I went along not knowing that I was building shame and resentment toward myself and my identity. Deeper and deeper I went into the shame spiral! You might notice that I have not used the word bisexual yet. That was because I didn’t know about it, nor did I want to explore further. The world of LGBTQ was met with whispers and judgement everywhere I turned and I did not want to look that way at myself! So of course, I believed I was straight… because obviously, I like boys. I am attracted to them physically, sexually, emotionally, and intellectually. There’s nothing more to it, right? WRONG!
My second awakening came in the form of a celebrity. It was 2013, I was watching the movie Queen and that’s where I saw her, the drop-dead, slap-in-the-face stunningly gorgeous Lisa Hayden. Oh my God! The things I felt that day… I still remember! How can I be straight and still feel this way towards a woman!? I felt both excited and ashamed. I knew something in me changed forever or rather something in me was awoken from a deep, deep slumber. After I came out of the cinema hall, (coupled with also coming out to myself, to be honest), I only felt dread. Yes, it was exciting to see a celebrity on the big screen and look at her adoringly (fine yes, the feelings were not all that innocent :D), but just like that, another bubble popped. The undeniable truth was upon me like a dark cloud. And just like that, I was very aware of all my shame and resentment I had so neatly wrapped up and buried deep in the recesses of my brain, thinking that I would never access them again. I was properly and silently spiralling all alone with these feelings, not knowing what to do!
I obviously never told anyone. I tried not to think about it myself. I mean, I still liked boys, so maybe it will pass. It probably is definitely ‘just a phase’ or something. But deep down, I knew it really wasn’t. Every so often, I would think about it and go further down the spiral of shame and resentment. So, I clung on to my relationships with boys. As long as I still liked boys, I was fine, I told myself. The shame got so much worse when in one very random conversation my father told me, “Bring any kind of boy and I may be able to accept, but just don’t come and stand here with a girl and tell me you want to marry them!” I cannot explain the anguish, and the pain that statement caused me. Further and further, I spiralled, and I still did not know what to do!
I spent all my teen years and early 20s this way, until I just couldn’t go on anymore. I did the only logical thing I could think of at that point. I started reading about it, learned what it meant to like more than one gender, explored the vast world of LGBTQ, and started seeing others who felt the same way that I did, in myriad other ways. Then I finally admitted to myself that, “I am BISEXUAL.” It wasn’t some big moment; on the contrary, it made me feel small and invisible. So, what’s the next logical step? I pushed myself to start coming out to people—my closest friends, some strangers in bars, some boys I met on dating apps. I started chatting with girls on there too, but never had the guts to actually go out with anyone (how could I while I was literally drowning in shame!). I was met with a variety of responses to my coming out. My closest friends were the most supportive, but many others sexualized me, some made me feel inadequate and indecisive, and by the time I was 25, I was so deep in the shame spiral that I didn’t think there was a way out.
But with more exposure and with the support of my best friends, I slowly understood that my identity was something I needed to embrace and accept. And until today, I am still on that journey. I may not have dated many women, or explored my sexuality that way, but conversations with friends, scrolling the depths of social media, and immersing myself in queer-affirmative pages, people, and groups (Gaysi’ editor, Tej being a huuuge part of my acceptance journey), and a brief stint with a queer-affirmative therapist later, I started making my way out of the spiral.
Interestingly, the thing that made my acceptance journey easier was actually my history of abuse and sexual harassment. I was in a whole other spiral due to that too and I was on a long, healing journey for that in therapy and did a lot of self-work. For some reason, that journey coincided with this one and it somehow made it easier to accept myself, and I became more welcome to accepting my identity as a bisexual person. I learnt to treat my newfound acceptance with grace and kindness, and I started nurturing it and growing with it.
Over the years, I fell in love with a man, dated him, married him, and now have a baby with him. But at the same time, I have been constantly and tirelessly working on coming out of my shame spiral, embracing my sexuality, and being proud of who I am. Today, I am happy and relieved that I have reached a space where I can confidently say that I am bi, queer, and proud! Allowing myself to constantly and subtly play with the waters of gender expression one day at a time! Of course, my family (except my husband and his sister) doesn’t know about this part of my identity, but it is a conscious choice I have made to not come out to them for now.
As a new queer mother of a wonderful baby boy, I am excited to go on this new journey with a better sense of who I am and still feeling open to the wide possibilities of change and transformation along the spectrum of sexuality and gender. Grateful that I can be a safe space for my baby if ever he needs to explore his own identity… So grateful for the safe spaces that I have the privilege of leaning on in my husband, my best friends, and the ever-welcoming queer community that exists online and off, that keep reminding me that I am queer enough, and valid, and seen, and every bit part of the rainbow as I wish to be!
