My sexuality is something I've been thinking about since I was in fifth grade. Not all LGBTQ folks remember the very moment they started questioning their sexuality, but I sure do. I was watching television with my mom. Dancing With the Stars was on, and although I was too young to know many celebrities past those on the Disney Channel, we had a tradition of watching dance shows together (So You Think You Can Dance was our favorite).

This particular routine was quite sexy, and the man's shirt was wide open, exposing his chest muscles. As the women in the audience ooh'd and ahh'd, I could only focus on one thing--the female dancer's legs. I was fascinated with the way she moved and how elegant and beautiful she was. It occurred to me quite quickly that I really should be focusing on the man. After all, he was hot... but still, I couldn't take my eyes off the woman.

I cast the experience out of my mind for the rest of the day, but when it hit bedtime I could only lay there, staring at the ceiling and wondering what in the hell just happened. I knew what being gay meant, and I figured that if I was gay it would be okay--I had a gay cousin and my family loved him and his partner all the same. Still, I was confused. I didn't remember ever feeling this way toward a girl before. Plus, I still had crushes on guys, and that hadn't gone away since I'd noticed the dancing woman.

I started crying, and continued to do so until my mom came in to say goodnight. I softly asked her if she would be okay if one of my siblings was gay. She looked slightly confused, but told me that of course she would be okay with it. I was comforted by this statement, and decided that if my mom would be okay with whatever I was, I would be okay, too.

I don't remember the next few steps of discovering my sexuality very well. I know that I put off thinking about it for a while, and later, I learned about bisexuality. I wonder if I had Googled it, or someone else brought it up to me. Whatever it was, I do remember feeling immense relief that there was a word for what I had been battling with in my own head.

The moment I knew there were other people out there like myself, I felt better about myself and the fact that I liked girls. I was too afraid to tell anyone until the latter half of middle school. At that time my battle with depression was just beginning, and this secret--which is such an important part of me--was weighing me down considerably. I wasn't ready to tell family or my closest friends, unsure of what they would say. So I picked two girls who I sat with at lunch every day, and who I trusted enough that they wouldn't tease me about it.

They were both so supportive and I felt lighter than I had in a long time. A lot of people question why coming out has to be such a big deal--and it doesn't, really. Not in the sense that LGBTQ folks have to make a big production out of it or even tell everybody at once. But it is a big deal in the sense that there are still so many stigmas attached with being gay or bisexual or trans, and the truth is that no one truly knows how their friends or family will react until they actually do come out. It takes a lot of courage for each person to reveal that they're LGBTQ.

Not only that, but it's a very important part of who we are. One of the most common things people talk about is romantic or sexual interests. School children tease each other about crushes, high schoolers are constantly gossiping about who is hooking up with who, and it only gets more severe the older we get. LGTBQ folks who aren't out yet either have to keep quiet or go along with what is expecting of them.

Hiding such a key piece of yourself, especially from those you love, is devastating. I was constantly on the edge of my seat, about to tell my mom, and then being unable to. Truthfully, I don't even remember the most important times I did come out to people. I'm not sure why--I only vaguely recall whether they were good or bad.

I told my friend group first, and they were all supportive. Then my siblings, and by the end of eighth grade I must have told my mom. Some reactions are still painful to recall. I chose to tell a few of my cousins next, and by the time I reached tenth grade, I figured enough people knew that I could just state it publicly.

Truthfully, I was sure most people in my high school knew about it. I had never heard there were rumors about my sexuality, but if there weren't I'd be surprised, considering how bad I was at hiding my attraction to women. And... I was still terrified to tell some members of my family that I was bisexual face-to-face. So, coward's way out or not, I made a Facebook post. Looking back, it's a little cringey, but I'm mostly proud of myself for doing it. My only regret is the one spelling error that I missed.

As I finished high school and entered college, questions about my sexuality once again plagued my mind. I would wonder if I was a lesbian for a few hours, then affirm to myself that I was definitely bi, then cycle back around (I never did think about being straight, though--I knew that wasn't the case). I realized how huge the spectrum was, and that they were too many sexualities to count. For a while I thought that the term pansexual fit me best, because I'm also open to people who don't find on the gender spectrum.

Eventually, though, I came to prefer to identify myself as queer. It used to be a slur, and it can certainly still be used that way, but a lot of people are reclaiming the word, including me. I feel that it fits me best, because some of the time (most of the time) I feel much more gay than straight, but never only one. Not to mention all the people of other genders I would date. I'm comfortable with people calling me bisexual or pansexual, too, since I know the word queer can make some feel uncomfortable.

I consider my sexuality to be one of the biggest things that shaped my childhood and the person I am today. However, it is only one facet of myself. One day, I want everyone around me to know that I'm queer and accept it as a normality, rather than something to be careful about. However important being queer is to me, it's only one part of who I am. My hope is that this article will help people feel less awkward about my sexuality and accept it as a part of my whole self--not just something they can shove in the back of their heads and pretend doesn't exist, or something that makes me special. I'm just me, after all.