Sometimes my confidence in my identity wavers. However, one aspect that I’ve learned to embrace is my sexuality. I’m a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community and identify as pansexual. To be clear, pansexuality means I experience sexual, romantic, and emotional attraction to anyone, regardless of their presentation.  

I recall learning that definition during research years ago and thinking, “Wow, that describes me!” I had fallen for many people before, but never found myself with a specific preference. Nor did I like a person any less if they identified outside of binary norms.  

Overall, gender doesn’t factor into who I develop feelings for. I focus on personality and character above all else. I’m also lucky enough to have close friends who support me and allow me to express my true self, educating others on the topic as needed. Because of my friends and their guidance, I’m much more fluent in the terms and can share my knowledge with the world 

Despite my confidence, I got my first taste of homophobia following this self-discovery. In high school, I fell for a close friend of the same sex after years of knowing her. She was funny, loved art, and understood some of my darkest feelings where no one else did. With her, I felt seen and safe. 

One summer night, we sat together near the edge of a local lake. I looked at her and felt my heart race. What would it be like to kiss her? The thought flowed through me, tugging like an undertow. That was the moment I knew that my mind wasn’t playing tricks.  

Months later, I finally got the guts to confess my attraction, despite fears of chasing her away. I sent a thread of texts explaining how much I adored her and how I dreamed of being “more than just friends.”  

Waiting for a reply was torture; my gut swirled with anxiety. Finally, she replied, saying she felt the same way. Utter joy threw all that fear right out the window. I was ecstatic, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. It was all I had dreamed of, and we were ready to give this new relationship a shot.  

Until her mother found out that we liked one another and began saying horrible things about me. She called me a “monster” and told my friend that I was using her for “ sick experiments.” Her parents forbade us from seeing each other.  

We snuck to a mutual friend’s house. My friends kept my presence a secret from her mother, and we tried to hang out like everything was okay. However, the damage had already set in, and our friendship filled us with anxiety and heartache. It reached the point where we both agreed we couldn’t continue like this. 

I still wonder what could have been between us. But I have no regrets about the doomed fling, especially since it helped me grow closer to my true self. Now, as an adult, I can be who I am and not let things like hate or homophobia scare me into hiding. 

Which is why I make it a goal to create a safe space through my writing for those in similar positions. I want people to feel seen and realize they are valued, regardless of their gender or sexual identity. LGBTQ folks have nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to how we define ourselves. We are a group filled with love and support who want rights equal to our straight counterparts, and we will continue to fight for acceptance as long as we stand and breathe. The LGBTQ+ community is a beautiful thing, and I’m proud to be a part of it. 

Editor: Shannon Hensley