- Growing up in a small town made me feel ashamed of my sexuality.
- Years after marrying my husband, I finally came out as bisexual and then pansexual to him.
- As a pansexual person, I worried I wasn’t queer enough, so I had to find my own queer community.
During my adolescence, talking about my sexuality didn’t come easily. In my small hometown of Monmouth, UK, straight was the default. There were only a handful of openly queer people who lived in our town, and they were perceived as “other.”
My first experience of coming out was in the 1990s, when I was 14. I confided to a friend that I had a crush on a girl at school. It’s so long ago that I can’t remember if I used the word bisexual or if I just said that I liked girls as well as boys. But I remember my friend’s reaction: shock, disgust, horror, and laughter.
I wouldn’t come out again for another 15 years, and that 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 first semester. At that point, no one knew I was also interested in women. I wasn’t ready to come out to the people living in my residence hall. 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, although I had alluded to finding female celebrities attractive. I felt guilty for keeping part of my identity closed off from those closest to me, but my previous coming-out experience had left me wary.
When our son was born, it felt like there was even less opportunity to embrace my sexuality. Parents at the school gates, colleagues at work, and new friends I made heard the words “husband” and “son” and presumed I was straight.
In my late 20s, I finally told my husband the truth
I was very drunk watching TV with my husband one night. Dita Von Teese was a guest on the show we were watching, and my attraction to her prompted me to blurt out, “I’m bisexual.”
A heavy silence. My husband then said a very simple but thoughtful word: “OK.”
I assured him nothing had changed; I still only wanted to be with him. His reaction to all of the information was so laid-back that it made me wish I’d shared my sexuality sooner. Inspired by Von Teese, we booked tickets for a local burlesque show the next month.
Buoyed by the positive reaction from my husband, I came out to my closest friends. It was a much more positive experience than my previous attempt at coming out, because I was selective about who I told and lived in a more diverse area. My grand reveal was well-received, and I felt accepted by the people whose opinions mattered to me.
Later, I read Juno Dawson’s “This Book Is Gay” and realized I wasn’t bisexual but actually pansexual — which simply means I’m attracted to people regardless of their sex or gender. When I told everyone about my new identity, there were more questions to field, but that was to be expected. Pansexuality isn’t really talked about in the media or general pop culture. I didn’t blame people for not knowing about pansexuality because I’d barely heard of it myself.
From then on, whenever I’m asked about my sexuality, I always say pansexual. I even added pink, yellow, and blue hearts to my social-media bios to represent the pansexual flag.
Though my husband and friends accepted me, I worried I wasn’t gay enough to fit in with the queer community
Once I had a label that represented me, I wanted to become more involved with the LGBTQ community. What surprised me most was how, even in one of the largest cities in the UK, opportunities to meet other LGBTQ people were limited. Bars and clubs were a focal point, which didn’t appeal to me.
Although pansexuality falls under the queer umbrella, I feared I wasn’t gay enough, especially because I’m in a straight-presenting relationship.
I turned to queer media. Shows such as “Queer Eye” and “It’s a Sin” gave me a sense of belonging, as did LGBTQ literature I sourced from the London bookshop Gay’s the Word.
Seeing strong LGBTQ communities on my TV screen and in the pages of my favorite novels finally pushed me to seek out my own queer family. I ultimately joined the Rainbow Blades, the official Sheffield United Football Club support group for LGBTQ people and their allies. It’s been quite the 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 along to the meetups with me and proudly wear pins showing they are LGBTQ allies — my allies. Finally, I’ve found the place I belong.
