By Georgina Beeby
i never really ‘come out’.
it’s more of an admittance - an, ‘oh you’ve got me, i’m bi’.
i cringe as i think it,
worried they’ll look at me differently.
sometimes they say - with a reassuring smile -
‘oh, don’t worry, i knew.
you always seemed like the type.’
and i hate that.
i know i’m the type (by default i guess) - but what does it mean to be the type of person to be bi?
and throwaway statements -
‘i knew you were gay when you cut your hair that way’ -
fill me with rage.
i don’t look gay. i don’t want to look gay.
because when you say it like that you make me feel ashamed.
you make me feel different.
and then, when they tell me, ‘it’s okay,
you’re not in-your-face about it, like other people are’
i feel relieved -
yet defensive.
relieved because, thank god, i don’t act like a stereotype.
defensive because - well, why should it matter, even if i did?
why do i care so much?
- if coming out is a process,
then it is a constant circle, a repetitive cycle, of figuring out
exactly how you want to be defined.
that’s when i realized, it’s not for anyone else to decide
but me.
i came out to myself in 2018. out to my friends in 2019.
it’s 2020 now.
(still baby steps, of course).
but i can hope to myself - allow myself this one resolution,
that maybe 2020 will be the year,
where i’ll stop wanting to hide,
i’ll stop feeling like my sexuality is a crime,
and i’ll start holding myself with pride.
let 2020 be the year i don’t care that i’m bi.