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.

Elsa

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