I’m just going to get to the point.
I’m bisexual.
For those of you who don’t know what that means, bisexuality is when a person is attracted to both men and women. I know it may be a shock to some of you reading this, but don’t worry, I’m still the same person I was before you started reading this article. I’ve always been this way. Some people see my sexuality as a choice, or a sin, or a disorder. That’s why I’m talking about it now. Maybe sharing my story can change just one person’s perception of the LGBTQ community.
Even as a kid, I knew I was different than most other little boys. But, like most children do, I worked very hard to fit in. I actively tried to “pray the gay” side away for years, and when that didn’t work, I hid it. Once I got into high school, I worked even harder to emphasize my false heterosexuality for fear that, if I came out as bi, I would lose my reputation and popularity. I was Prom Prince. I was the lead anchor on the school news. I was Honor Society President.
I liked that people knew who I was and talked about me, but feared more than anything else that they would figure out my secret and talk about me because of that instead. I was never going to come out. Since I was attracted to both men and women, I could hide the men part and lead a perfectly normal life as a straight, white, male.
College brought about a lot change. I was in a completely new city with new people, where no one knew the person I was before. I felt like I finally had the ability to be myself, completely. Right around New Year’s, I decided enough was enough. 2016 was going to be the year I finally came out - I mean, 16 is my lucky number, so that had to mean something, right? I started off by telling my closest friends I was bi. Then I told my mom. I started dating guys in addition to dating girls. I gained confidence and became more comfortable with myself. I told more people. I felt like I was finally able to be myself.
And then, earlier this month, the shooting in Orlando happened. In an instant, 49 innocent lives were lost and hundreds more irreparably damaged because a deranged, homophobic, terrorist decided to turn a military-grade weapon on innocent people. If that act alone wasn’t enough to drive me past my boiling point, I spent the days and weeks following reading things in the news and on social media like, “If they had been holding guns instead of holding hands, maybe someone would have stopped him,” or “It’s no different than any other terrorist attack, just because the victims are LGBT people,” or my personal favorite, “At least it was they were gay.”
All the aftershocks from the terrorist attack sent me reeling. This was the first time in my life I was in a social group that faced oppression, hatred, and targeting. It hit home that a lot of people in this world hate me because of my sexuality. They think less of me because who I love, despite the fact that I can’t change it.
Some people in this world would rather see me with bullet holes in my chest than a man’s hand in mine.
Well, sorry. I’m done hiding myself. I will hold the hand of the man or woman who I love, when I want to. I will get married to whomever I want, no matter their gender. I will talk about my sexuality, and expect equal treatment. I will not accept hate when I see or hear it.
I am not an issue. I am a human being.
The LGBTQ community is one that I’d never thought I’d be allowed to join. But through finding myself, finding my voice, and finding my strength with those who support me, I am able to be who I’ve always been. More than that, I am able to be someone who demands rights, who demands respect, and who demands to be able to go to a nightclub and dance with my boyfriend without the fear of being shot to death.
Please, feel free to share my story. I’m hopeful that reading this may help others find the courage to come out, or at least to see the LGBTQ community as we are - as people. Lastly, Happy Pride month to all of my fellow LGBTQ members. Thank you for welcoming me to your family.