Walking through the doors of a catholic university shook every fiber of my being at the idea of a bitter truth being revealed. Was it labeled on my forehead in a bold text that would draw attention to the secret I was pushed to conceal for years and years? It may come to surprise some of you that no, I did not have the word bisexual labeled across my head for the world to see. This was a lucky thing for me, once I discovered a darker side of the university I attend.

Multiple times I had tried to see just how those who attended my university would react to someone in the LGBTQ+ community, especially someone a part of the fraction with distasteful stereotypes.

A night full of chatter and laughter with the girls who lived beside me quickly went silent at my admission during a childish game of truth-or-dare. That’s when I knew exactly how this would all unravel. One of the girls turned to me and spoke harshly to never tell anyone. The other agreed while creating a distance between us. If my declaration to my new friends was not a foolish mistake alone, I dared to ask what they viewed was so terrible about it. And I regret being so curious ever since.

Common misconceptions I have heard from the outside world were: How we are greedy for wanting both sexes as our own. Promiscuous because all we do is have sex. If you are a woman who identifies as bisexual, it is only used to attract the attention of straight men. It’s a phase and at the end of the day, we are just confused. A bisexual can never be happy in a monogamous relationship and lastly — threesomes must be involved in a relationship or we cop-out.

Horrified by these accusations, I decided it was now time for an investigation deeper into this university that claims to have a diverse and loving community.

I tried to see just who else had fallen victim to these beliefs by reaching out to the app we all hate to love, Yik Yak. For those of you who are blessed enough to have not been seduced by this app, it is essentially anonymous posting generated around your location. The post was simple to avoid bias: What do you think of bisexuals?

I set up a few rules for myself in order for this to go as smoothly as I thought was possible; do not check it after every beep that alerted me someone commented, if I began to get upset then take a few moments and breathe and lastly, take what they say with a grain of salt. The responses made by those who lived on my campus who hid behind the mask of anonymity were vulgar, insulting and equally as false as the girls who lived beside me.

To some it can sound like an absurd idea that you want someone, anyone for that matter, to know you're bisexual. But after years of hiding in silence, or what is commonly called as staying in the closet, you learn to be proud of it and open to the responses. The irony of the situation is how the unpleasant gazes towards a same-sex couple in our school did not compare to the men or women who would have a different partner wandering off to their rooms every other night.

Thus far, I came to the conclusion that this safe haven wasn’t all that safe, but only a paradise if you fit the cookie cutter ideology of a conservative Catholic school girl. Maybe these ideas will forever come to haunt me no matter where I live or work, but I do believe we need to start portraying bisexual characters appropriately on the media to finally bring these foolish and laughable stereotypes to rest. Maybe this was just my own horrible experience and perhaps your own experience will be different. We have spent too long hiding in the shadows in fear of what our peers may say, instead let us be proud of our sexuality. Be open to it. Shake off the negativity and never go back to that closet.