Coming Out Poem; drafted in 2019, continued and edited in 2021: (trigger & content warning: compulsory heterosexuality, sexual assault)

13 years old: Summer before 8th grade, my heart whirred like a hummingbird when I saw her.

Thunk thunk thunk thunk

"I like girls, too" I thought, as the clouds above revealed a new version of myself and she said

"Hi, i'm bi"

8th grade rolls around and there's a new boy in class. All eyes are on him and I, as a girl walks over and points at me saying "Do you like her?”

I feel trapped. Helpless. Someone was choking me and I was unable to speak.

That was my first relationship with a man.

What followed was a reluctant acceptance of affection. Non-consensual affection.

Words I did not know yet, would only save me

Then came High School. I began my endeavor of figuring out what the fuck my sexuality was.

"Pansexual”, “Bisexual”, “Panromantic Homosexual", etc.

All valid identities, but I was so confused and hadn’t yet processed the severity of my trauma.

"I like girls, too" i'd slide into conversations describing my crush of the month.

14 years old:

Maybe I just haven't found the right guy.

Maybe it would be better in college..

Maybe I will learn to like men, I said, trying to force myself to breathe underwater.

"Some parts of me have to be normal!"

I screamed as my brain wrestled with my heart.

The fear of being different, then, was my worst nightmare.

If I were to be with a woman, and only ever date women, and in my wildest dreams, marry one, I would stand out.

17 years old: My Junior year, I developed feelings for a gay woman.

"I like girls, too"

Meanwhile, a voice was looming over my head: you should like him. It makes sense. He's nice. He likes you. Pick. Him.

18 years old: June 2018 - I embrace my homosexuality. The words "I am gay" glide off my tongue like a well-tossed frisbee.

September 2018 - I am asked by a boy I developed a crush on as to what my sexuality is.

"I'm bisexual"

March 2019 - I become best friends with a guy. You should like him. It makes sense. He's nice. I picked him.

My heart, twisted and drenched, was wrung out and hung to dry every time I left his bedroom.

19 years old. Summer 2019- I halted. I questioned. I talked to my heart.

"I like girls" she said gasping, her chambers echoing of exhaustion. I listened.

The rest of 2019, 2020 and beyond -

Learning I liked girls was an exhale. A breath of fresh air. A release of confusion.

Coming to terms with my attraction to men, and my sexual trauma and relationship trauma - was a chokehold I put myself in.

Through the years, I have and am healing, and exploring my sexuality still.

Avoiding triggers, avoiding admitting I was sexually assaulted, avoiding thinking about it - worsened by trauma and gave me severe panic attacks and nightmares.

I have learned to address my trauma. Talk about it, process it, and listen to it.

I am still healing. And will be healing a year from now. 2 years from now, and so on.

20 years old:

But I no longer feel pressured to find and stick with a label. I no longer feel inner turmoil over my sexuality. I am simply going with the flow.

So right now, here is me saying:

I am bisexual.

I am demisexual.

I am gay.

I am fluid.

I am a lover.

And I wish I could just be known as that