When I was in middle school I thought I had everything figured out. I thought I knew who I was and who I wanted to become. I thought that I knew my place in the world and the role I was set to be. But I felt like I was missing a part of myself. I felt incomplete and was in desperate need to be whole again. This is my story about what it was I was missing, how others accepted this part of me, and how I maintain it now.

It all started out with first curiosity and then confusion. I was in the eighth grade at the time and would often think about what it would be like to be with a girl. I would often look at my female classmates and think that they were very pretty. The girl I mostly looked at was my best friend, Amy. She and I have been besties ever since we met in kindergarten. We were so close that we would introduce each other as sisters and not best friends. At the time, I thought I was feeling these feelings, and thinking these thoughts about Amy simply because she was my best friend. I didn’t think it was because I was actually attracted to women. Non-heterosexuality was seen as a negative thing in my household. Because of this, I couldn’t really talk to my mom or siblings about how I was feeling.

So, I was in charge of getting to the bottom of things. And let me tell you, it was not easy.

My first reaction was to just not think about it. I wasn’t popular with the boys at this age, so I didn’t really have a relationship with any of them. But it seemed I had a crush on almost every boy that I saw in the hallways. Eighth grade ended and it was time to get ready for high school. Goodbye to all of the childish traits and hello to the start of adulthood! I took this summer to really start thinking. I have been pushing down this attraction I have to females, and essentially pushing down a part of myself. So, instead, I accepted the thoughts and feelings but still hid them from my family.

Freshmen year has finally arrived and I am with my first ever girlfriend. Unlike me, she never had a problem with her sexuality, and her mom was very supportive. It didn’t matter if she brought home a guy or a girl, her mom loved her all the same. And I was envious. I wanted that for myself, but it just seemed so out of reach. This relationship had its positives and negatives. Let’s start with the positives.

I felt free. I felt accepted. I felt sexy.

This relationship was so important in my life because it let me explore. Not only my sexuality but my gender identity as well. When I was with her I instantly filled the role of a boyfriend. I would be dominating, straightforward, and in charge. And I loved it. I enjoyed being this way because it felt natural to me. It didn’t feel like I was playing a part or being someone I wasn’t. I would often fantasize about having a penis and using it to sexually please my girlfriend. When she and I talked sexually, I would tell her what I wanted to do to her. Each time this occurred I would always say I had a penis.

Even though this relationship let me explore my gender identity and sexuality, it came with a major negative thing. Often, she would hit, slap, and yell at me. This happened more times than I can count. If I didn’t kiss her right, or if I didn’t text her fast enough. There seemed to always be something that I wasn’t doing right.

And in the moment, I blamed myself.

She wouldn’t be doing this to me if I wasn’t pleasing her. It was a very dark part of my life, but I was afraid what would happen if I left. At the time, I was in love with this girl. And I didn’t want to keep her a secret anymore. So one day I was sitting in my room. I had called my older sister up so I could talk to her. My heart was racing and my mouth was dry. I have been thinking about how to tell someone who I really am. So many different scenarios played in my head, but each one was scary and made me nervous.

After just sitting for a few minutes I told my sister. I didn’t even take a breath. I was crying at this point, afraid of what would happen to me now. But she was quiet for a moment. The silence made me want to vomit. I wasn’t sure what she was going to say and the anticipation only made me feel sick. Eventually, she finally asked me if I told mom. I shook my head no. When I was ready my sister said she will be there for me when I wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t wait another day. I wanted people to know who I was. SO I called my mom into my room and told her while my sister supported me.

My mother just stared at me for a moment and was silent.

I started to cry uncontrollably and she just got up, without saying a word, and left. She didn’t talk to me for two days straight. This was one of the moments that really broke me. All I wanted was to be accepted for who I really was.

Instead, I was rejected by the woman who was supposed to love me. I acted out sexually as a result. I was talking to multiple guys at once, having phone sex, video sex, and was dating guys much older than me.

The oldest boyfriend I had was in his sophomore year of college. I finally had the courage enough to leave my abusive girlfriend. I forced myself not to think about women. So, to distract myself, I got a boyfriend. I loved him with all my heart and I thought I would love him forever. I gave him my virginity. It was the first sexual encounter that I ever had with a male. I wasn’t thinking about women anymore. And for a while I felt normal, incomplete and in distress, but still normal. But that relationship didn’t last long.

I was devastated, but deep down I was happy. A few months later and I was accepting my love for women again. I got my second girlfriend and again took the role of a male. But like my other two relationships, it didn’t end well. It was at this time that I fell into a deeper depression.

I blamed everything on myself.

It I was normal I wouldn’t be getting hurt. I wouldn’t be left alone to deal with these feelings and thoughts. I would be accepted by my family. But that just wasn’t the case. I wasn’t normal. I liked men. And I liked women. I’ve been with men. And I’ve been with women.

And all while trying to accept myself, my family casted me away. No one talked about it, and no one wanted to talk about it. I was seen as disgusting, abnormal, and even sick, (mentally). It was also at this time that I grew a strong hate for religion. Since my immediate family members were Christian, I often heard how liking the same sex was a sin. I was going to hell. I wasn’t loved by God. So I just said to hell with it all. At least the Devil accepts everyone. Jumping into my junior year I did not think of women. I was back to hiding and not accepting a part of myself.

But then I met one of my best friends to this day. And I couldn’t breathe. She was so beautiful. Her voice was soft and kind. Her body was perfect and sexy. And I wanted her. Damn, did I want her.

But I was normal now. I couldn’t think like this.

So I hid everything from her. I kept my thoughts normal and my feelings numb. I got another boyfriend who I thought was going to marry me one day. But like my other relationships it didn’t end well. He was afraid of telling his parents he loved me and was with me. I was his secret. I thought it was love, but really it was toxic. But my best friend was there to pick up the pieces I was left as. I wanted to tell her how I felt but didn’t. Until one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I just graduated from high school and she and I were still very close. I gathered up enough courage to tell her how I felt. At this point I accepted who I was. I didn’t care what others thought and I was truly happy.

She was bisexually curious and told me she wanted me, too. Instantly I slipped into the male role once more. And damn did it feel good. I told her I wanted a relationship and that’s where things got messy. She wasn’t willing to tell her family who she truly was. She wanted to keep herself and I a secret. And I couldn’t do it.

The situation left me broken and confused. Jump a few years and I am in my second to last semester at Montgomery County Community College. I decided to take a human sexuality class and learned a lot about, not just other people but about myself as well. I accepted the fact that I am bigender and discovered that I am pansexual.

Moving forward to present time. Looking back on my past struggle with finding who I truly was, I can truly say I wouldn’t change a thing.

Most of my family still do not accept or even acknowledge who I am. No one talks about it, no one asks about it, and no one cares about it. But that is ok because I know who I am now. I have finally fully accepted who I truly am. I am pansexual. I am bigender. I am normal. I am me.