Me, the Bisexual.

I came out as a bisexual this year.


And only to three people.  I don’t really care if they’ve told anyone.

My roommate from college told me she’d known all along.

My “friend” from here:

“Are you sure it’s not just a phase?”

I’m thirty-two.  Pretty sure it’s not a fucking phase.

And my husband.  With whom nothing has changed. 


The funny part is that I never identified as bisexual in my own head (out loud anyway) until this year.  I never pieced things together.  It never made sense as something that was identifiable.  It was just feelings.  Uncomfortable, aching feelings.  They were never acted upon.

One of my closest friends who is also married to a man and also bisexual told me she regrets experiences that she didn’t have with women because she didn’t admit her sexuality.  I’m not sure I miss those now.  I’m not sure I miss things like that from my past.  I think about them as a present and possible future, but not a thing from the past.  This is not me saying that I want to cheat on my husband with a woman, but merely a thing I have allowed my brain to finally process and accept.


One thought on “Me, the Bisexual.

  1. fleurg35

    All I can say is, I understand. I’m nearly 50 and was much like you. It was livable, doable. Until I met someone. Then… the world turned upside down.


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