I am bisexual. More specifically biromantic asexual. And I, as I’m sure many others, have that question in the back of our heads: am I really?
When I discovered the term bisexual, something in me clicked. It was a sudden and almost unnoticeable reaction. I just knew that bisexual was the term for me. I never really gave it much of a doubtful thought, but that was before I got into a long term relationship.
I always have this question now: am I really? What if I’m lesbian? Or what if I’m straight? I never explored my sexuality, never experimented with the same sex, always just took it as is. And while there is nothing wrong with doing that, I felt trapped in a way. I felt like I was missing this piece of me that I felt needed to be confirmed.
And that is where the above poem came from. This fear of not knowing my true self. I love this boy with my whole heart and I dream of spending forever with him, I have no doubt about that. But when a girl walks by and she catches my eye, I think about the what ifs.
I think about coming out again and again and again.