As many LGBT+ people will tell you, coming out is never one solitary event – as though I once said “hey everyone, I’m bi!” and then everyone knew. It’s a constant process, and for bisexual people especially so.
The first time I came out, rather nervously, was at university after getting involved in the LGBT+ Society. It prompted me to read more about sexuality, discuss sexuality with similar people, and I came to the realisation that I was allowed to identify as bisexual. During this time I managed to debunk all the myths about bisexuality I had acquired through my teens – that in order to be a “real” bisexual, you needed to:
I had always felt bisexual, before I fully understood the word, but never felt as though I was allowed to identify as such. In my teens I had a boyfriend, and then in college I started a relationship with another man, which lasted through my university years. On the outside, I appeared to be heterosexual, and this felt convenient in some ways. I didn’t want to grapple with my sexuality, so I ignored it – I decided that unless I really fell for a woman, it wasn’t actually an issue. Being in an opposite-sex relationship was pretty much straight, right? Did it matter how I felt on the inside?
This was further complicated by my mental health and my social anxiety at the time, which meant that for a while my boyfriend was the only person I spent time with so I didn’t meet new people to be attracted to – thus reinforcing the idea that I wasn’t really bi, otherwise I’d have loads of crushes on people of all genders.
Once I realised I was ‘legitimately’ bisexual, in my 2nd year of uni, I started attending LGBT+ events regularly where it was assumed that I was not-straight (what a relief!), and I didn’t formally come out for a while. Actually, the first person I ever came out to was one of my lecturers in my second year – during a meeting with her, I said in passing “as a bisexual woman…” and it felt terrifying and freeing.
Then I came out to my boyfriend, who responded in a loving and supportive way – we were in a monogamous relationship so it didn’t affect the way we were with each other anyway. Then, 2 years later, when my uni boyfriend and I had broken up, I came out to a friend by blurting out that I wanted to date more women.
From there on, I was pretty much out – I referred to myself as queer or bi online, I changed my Facebook “interested in” to “men and women”, and I got more involved in local queer activism. I realised that I liked the word “queer” too (which means “not-straight” and has a more political slant), and started using both words interchangeably to describe my sexuality.
But a few months later, I met and fell for another man. And so I felt as though I was back in the closet – worse, I felt like a fraudulent queer because my only long-term relationships had all been with men.
But I resisted this urge to define myself by these biphobic ideas – this time, I still considered myself to be bisexual, and I continued to hold onto this part of my identity. I met other queer people, openly attended queer events, came out to new colleagues and new friends when the opportunity arose naturally, and a year ago I became the co-chair of the LGBT+ Staff Network.
Then, 3 years after that, I finally came out to my parents. It was early 2015, I was about to be featured in the South Wales Evening Post for my work with the Network, and I figured it was time for them to know. I knew rationally that it would be fine, that the worst I’d get would be prying questions and perhaps disbelief (to which I had an answer prepared: “It’s ok if you don’t fully understand, it just meant a lot to me that you knew”), but still I was terrified. I didn’t want my parents to be freaked out, or angry, or embarrassed. The evening came – after my Dad brought us all cups of tea, while we were sat around the TV half-watching Jurassic Park, I awkwardly blurted out “I have something to say…” and then I told them.
They looked a bit taken aback, but said words to the effect of “ok cool. We had a feeling.” My dad gave me a long hug, I had a bit of a cry, and then we went back to watching Jurassic Park. My dad made a joke about the family dog liking both ham and chicken, and I knew everything would be fine.
Sometimes bi people in opposite-sex relationships are accused of having “straight privilege” – that is, we have a certain amount of privilege because we can pass as straight. But this assumption of “straight-until-proven-queer” is another form of heteronormativity, which is something that hurts all LGBT+ people.
I celebrate coming out day because in a world where LGBT+ people still experience discrimination, harassment and violence, coming out and sharing our stories matters. But like many other LGBT+ people, I hope that eventually we no longer need a coming out day because the assumption won’t be that everyone is automatically straight. Hopefully one day, someone revealing their sexuality (whether that’s queer, straight, asexual, or anything else) will be as commonplace and unremarkable as someone revealing that they prefer donuts to cakes, or that they only like donuts with coffee and cake with tea, or that it depends on the topping, or that they actually prefer pie.
LGBT+ Staff Network co-chair
Alys Einion October 13th, 2015
Posted In: Uncategorized
This has been a very interesting week, particularly as it has been my first set of activities as co-chair of the LGBT+ staff network here at Swansea University. Having been welcomed into the role by the out-going co-chair, Tracy Maegesuku-Hewitt, and by my current co-chair, Cath Elms, I’ve spent a lot of time simply in awe of the amount of things that relate to the network. And then . . . there was Bivisibility day.
Having hit the ground running, so to speak, caught up in the whirl of the new term, my own new students, courses starting, I hadn’t realised how quickly this day would arrive. I had never before realised how important such a day would be on the LGBT+ calendar, but as soon as we started getting the information out there, I could see how important it is. I think it comes down to the simple fact that we all live our lives in relative isolation, and sooner or later we look outside ourselves for recognition. We look around for people who reflect our own identities in some way, so that we can get a sense of solidarity and belonging. If the world around you doesn’t present many opportunities to see parts of your identity reflected back at you, it can seem like a very lonely place.
I guess it’s even more important when considering working life and student life. The workplace, well, we don’t choose our colleagues but it is a bonus if we get on with them. And being able to be yourself at work, or whilst studying, is fundamental to happiness, and to being good at your job. I’ve experienced a lot of challenges along the way, but one of the key factors in choosing an academic role here was knowing that I would never have to hide any aspect of my identity in order to feel safe, secure and supported in my work role. This really is a very positive and inclusive place to work. But Bivisibility day helped me to see how it might not always be easy for people to express their identity in a similar way.
It was a real pleasure, therefore, to spend an hour staffing the Bivisiblity information stall in the library foyer, and to meet a few brave souls who came to talk to me. It was also entertaining to watch people look at the stall, realise what it was about, and hurry on past. In between these two extremes were the students who looked like they were interested, but didn’t have the courage to stop and talk to me, and of course, the ones who thought I was working for the library and could tell them where the tours were!
So, why do we have a Bivisibility day? Because largely, bisexual people get overlooked. I don’t know why. Maybe simply stating that you are lesbian or gay is a stronger statement in the eyes of the average person. Who knows? Maybe bisexuality is still largely misunderstood, or not accepted as a clear and defined identity. I am not sure. But it is important to recognise that there are many, many ways in which sexuality, sexual identity and gender identity are expressed – as many as there are people in the world. And it is important as well to challenge the stereotypes about people who identify as bisexual, because this is something that is often misrepresented in the larger world.
I was amazed by the display, put together by my co-chair, of famous bisexual people. David Bowie! Annie Lennox. And one of my favourite authors, Alice Walker. Who knew? I thought if anything would make people feel better about bisexuality it would be knowing that many highly creative, intelligent and expressive people are happily open about their identities. It can only help to be in such august company.
I felt immensely proud to hang the bisexual flag from Fulton house this week, and even prouder to sit on the stall and be visible! I felt that I reached out to some of the people who were brave enough to approach me, and if me sitting there made a difference to one person’s life, then it was worth it.
So all in all it’s been a good start to the term and to my new role, and I am really looking forward to all the other events and activities that we have planned.
The network is here for anyone, staff and students, who want more information, support, advice or solidarity, about LGBT+ issues. We’re all one family, highly diverse and often radically different in our ways of seeing the world, but we have one thing in common. We all want the world to be a better, more inclusive place.
Contact the network on: firstname.lastname@example.org
Alys Einion September 25th, 2015
Posted In: Uncategorized
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