Alongside the fear of coming out, like many young people, I’ve felt an additional pressure to know where I fit.

Always, I knew I liked girls—but occasionally, I have been attracted to men. Am I a lesbian? Am I bisexual? Do I have a right to call myself anything?

Particularly when you’re a teenager, where such emphasis and importance is placed on defining yourself and who you are, this can feel like an enormous problem.

One of the reasons I delayed telling others that I wasn’t straight was that I worried that by doing so, I’d be making a mistake.

I didn’t want my sexuality to serve to confine me, in case who I was attracted were to change further down the line. I couldn’t imagine plucking up the courage to come out, then later having to admit, ‘sorry folks, I’m not ‘____’ after all’.

Slowly, though, I’m accepting that sexuality is messy, complex, and fluid, just like every other part of myself. I don’t have a responsibility to slide easily into a category, whether that mean by liking just one gender or all of them equally. Personally, I call myself gay, but it’s merely how I choose to define my sexuality to others—that label isn’t a boundary. You love who you love.