Being Me, Even Without a Bat Signal

I knew I liked boys by the time I was in kindergarten, I also knew I liked girls by the time I was in grade five. What I didn’t know at 10 years of age was that you could like both boys and girls. I grew up with a gay mom and a heterosexual dad, I was used to seeing men and women together, as well as women with other women and men with other men. I didn’t know the term “bisexual” or that you could even like both genders. I had never seen it in real life, had never seen it represented on TV or in a movie anywhere, or even heard it discussed. So when I came to the realization that I liked girls, I thought it meant I was like my mom, it meant I was gay too. But I was equally confused because I still liked boys, I always had a crush on one in school and that didn’t go away when I realized I liked girls. Though I didn’t obsess about it, I also didn’t think to ask anyone or bring it up with my mom. It was still a few years before the Internet was readily available and before you could “Google” anything into the home bar and get an answer.

It wasn’t until I was in grade eight, at 13 years old that I finally figured out what the name for it was: “bisexual.” That right there was my label, my identifier, and it connected some pieces of the puzzle for me. Though what to do once I had that label, I wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t like I was handed a bat signal or a bisexual flag pin for all of my clothes. It wasn’t as if I could easily introduce myself as Adrienne, the bisexual (note that I said easily, I’m sure if I was a really confident, no fucks given kind of gal that I could have in fact introduced myself this way). However, I was not that kind of gal. I was the awkward, outgoing, and loud but also a very introverted, anxiety-ridden teenager that loved black. So instead of finding a way to “out” myself, I simply just didn’t. Very few people knew that I was attracted to both females and males, and since I mainly dated in the male gene pool it was assumed that I was straight.

Fast forward a couple of years and now I’m into high school. In grades eleven and twelve where girls making out at a party wasn’t seen as a huge deal because it was assumed they were drunk and it was probably for male attention. And heck, they were probably super great friends and comfortable with each other anyway. Except for girls like me. Who once again didn’t have a bat signal or a shirt scrawled with I LIKE GIRLS AND BOYS on it to show my preferences. In hindsight, it's completely typical and somewhat expected that some teenagers throughout those years of hormones and confusion would experiment with the same gender. However, again I wasn’t one of them. I knew what I wanted, I knew who I was attracted to and it wasn’t an experiment for me. Which made those years even more difficult and confusing, as I was often the guinea pig for those other girls. It wasn’t a good feeling to be used that way, for them to not know how they felt so they would try it out for a few minutes, hours, or days and then go back to talking about the guy they have such a huge crush on. Again, in hindsight, they probably assumed I was going through the same thing, as they were, full of hormones, confusion, and knowing whom they were already comfortable with, so why not try!? And again, it’s not as if I stated “hey I’m bisexual, either you date me or you go away” because more often then not, these other girls were friends of mine, and I didn’t even know if I actually liked them enough to date, but I thought it had to be better than just being used.

But because I never actually put myself out there in a genuine way, I would never get the chance to date a girl in high school. I was too insecure, and too worried about what my peers would say, let alone think. I remember actively being uncomfortable with being hugged or touched by friends. I was on high alert at all times, just in case I was sitting too close, or bumped them accidentally. These friends didn’t know I was bisexual, nor did I have feelings for any of them, but I was worried that somehow they would think or assume something and get uncomfortable with being around me. Now, for all those years of worrying it never happened, at least not that I know of.

Now, let's fast forward a couple more years since leaving high school. I’m someone who has been married and divorced (to a man), has made it pretty public via Facebook that I am bisexual, and have had quite the rollercoaster of life experience since graduating. Now, I still never received my bat signal or any pins of any bisexual sort, but I am much more content with that. As someone who identifies this way, I am aware that we are a minority even within the LGBTQ community. I am aware of the stereotypes and judgments made about us, even the judgment that because I am now in a healthy relationship with a man and expecting our first child in less than two months, that there is a natural assumption to be made about my sexual identification. I’m still not comfortable with the idea of introducing myself with my name and sexuality, just as no heterosexual person would even think to do so. I don’t think my gay mom feels the need to introduce her self that way, nor does her bisexual partner. Just as it is assumed I am straight because of the gender of who I fell in love with, my mom’s partner has assumptions put on her that she must be a lesbian because she loves a woman.

No one in my life loves me less because I identify as being able to love a broader range of individuals. It doesn’t make my significant other question my commitment to him, nor do I spend any time worrying about hugging my friends. I have surrounded myself with family and friends that happily accept this part of who I am, regardless of the judgments from the outside world. The world isn’t perfect, but keeping who you are hidden, even if it just feels like small pieces of yourself, doesn’t do anyone any good. It doesn’t make you a happier person, it doesn’t serve you better to worry and be consumed with the assumptions we make about what others think. Be you, and while you’re doing that, I’ll be over here being me, even without a bat signal.