- Growing up in a small town, I was ashamed of my sexuality.
- Years after I married my husband, I finally came out as bisexual and then pansexual to him.
- As a pansexual person, I worried about not being queer enough, so I had to find my own queer community.
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When I was young, it wasn’t easy for me to talk about my sexuality. In my small hometown of Monmouth, UK, straight was the default. There were only a handful of openly queer people living in our town, and they were perceived as “different.”
My first coming out experience was in the 1990s when I was 14. I confided in a friend that I had a crush on a girl at school. It’s been so long I can’t remember if I used the word bisexual or if I just said I like girls as much as boys. But I remember my friend’s reaction: shock, disgust, horror and laughter.
I wouldn’t come out for another 15 years, and this time it was to my husband.
I started dating my husband in college and kept my sexuality a secret
I moved to Sheffield for university in 1998 and met the man who is now my husband during my freshman term. At that point, nobody knew that I was also interested in women. I wasn’t ready to come out to the people in my dorm. My sexuality just seemed irrelevant. To the outside world, I looked straight: I was a cis woman dating a cis man.
We got married in 2005. I still hadn’t come out to anyone, including my husband, despite hinting that I found female celebrities attractive. I felt guilty for keeping part of my identity closed to those closest to me, but my previous coming-out experience had made me suspicious.
When our son was born, I felt like there were even fewer opportunities to embrace my sexuality. Parents at the school gates, colleagues at work, and new friends I made heard the words “husband” and “son” and assumed I was straight.
In my late 20’s I finally told my husband the truth
One night I was very drunk while watching TV with my husband. Dita Von Teese was a guest on the show we were watching, and my attraction to her caused me to blurt out, “I’m bisexual.”
A heavy silence. My husband then said a very simple but thoughtful word: “OK.”
I assured him that nothing had changed; I still just wanted to be with him. His reaction to all the information was so relaxed that I wished I had shared my sexuality sooner. Inspired by Von Teese, we booked tickets to a local burlesque show the next month.
Buoyed by my husband’s positive response, I came out to my closest friends. It was a much more positive experience than my previous attempt to come out because I was selective about who I told and lived in a more diverse area. My big reveal was well received and I felt accepted by the people whose opinions I cared about.
I later read Juno Dawson’s “This Book Is Gay” and realized that I wasn’t bisexual, I was actually pansexual — which simply means I’m attracted to people regardless of their sex or gender. As I told everyone about my new identity, there were more questions to answer, but that’s to be expected. Pansexuality isn’t really talked about in the media or in general pop culture. I didn’t blame people for not knowing about pansexuality because I had hardly heard of it myself.
From then on, when people ask me about my sexuality, I always say pansexual. I even added pink, yellow, and blue hearts to my social media bio to represent the pansexual flag.
Although my husband and friends accepted me, I worried that I wasn’t gay enough to fit into the queer community
Once I had a label that represented me, I wanted to get more involved in the LGBTQ community. What surprised me the most was that even in one of the largest cities in the UK, opportunities to meet other LGBTQ people were limited. Bars and clubs were a focus, which I didn’t like.
Although pansexuality falls under the queer umbrella, I worried about not being gay enough, especially since I’m in a straight relationship.
I turned to queer media. Shows like Queer Eye and It’s a Sin gave me a sense of belonging, as did LGBTQ literature, which I sourced from London bookshop Gay’s the Word.
Seeing strong LGBTQ communities on my TV screen and on the pages of my favorite novels eventually made me seek my own queer family. Eventually, I joined the Rainbow Blades, Sheffield United Football Club’s official support group for LGBTQ people and their allies. It’s been quite a long journey, but I know the friends I’ve made through Rainbow Blades will be friends for life.
Best of all, my husband and son come to meetings with me, proudly wearing pins that show they are LGBTQ allies—my allies. I’ve finally found the place where I belong.