Story:

I grew up seeking rules in everything, believing that without rules I would fall apart. As a child I was typically feminine – by the rules – I loved little dresses, makeup, jewelry, hairstyles, heels; I grew up in a pink room; Barbie was my first idol; I went to dance classes and wanted to be a ballerina; I listened to Taylor Swift; I dreamed of my wedding to the perfect man, of two children and a cute little house with a yard. I was so drawn to the world of celebrities and knew everything about them! I followed all the major award shows, from music to movies. I wanted to be on the red carpet with them. Some of their names were my passwords for everything, both men and women.

In 4th grade of elementary school, my friend Matilda introduced me to the acronym LGBT and that was the beginning of everything for me. I think she’s not aware of how important a role she played in my life. The concept of LGBT people immediately seemed acceptable and logical to me, to the point where I even declared that everyone should be born bisexual! Basically, 10-year-old me wanted to say that the starting point shouldn’t be that all people are straight until they come out, and that coming out shouldn’t be necessary. She also introduced me to The Ellen DeGeneres Show and that became my new reliable source of information about celebrities.

Shortly after, I started thinking about myself and whether I might like women? They’re so beautiful, all done up on the red carpet, in interviews, in movies, in music videos. I made a list in the notes on my phone of celebrities I liked. First there was a list of men, and then a list of women formed too. I came to the conclusion that I was bisexual and told my mom at 13. In our 70-square-meter apartment, it was enough to come out just to mom because her screaming conveyed the message to the rest of the street. With that, she closed the door on any further conversation about my sexuality (and to this day they remain closed). She would ask me many times if I had a boyfriend and I would always answer that boys and relationships didn’t interest me. But I didn’t want to admit to myself that I wanted to explore romantic relationships with others back then, whether boys or girls. But no, I shut that down and focused on school and investing in my career – those were the rules, the expectations!

But being bisexual wasn’t according to the rules! The rules were that I’m a woman, that I go to school, to university, that I work, that I get married and have children, right? Since I was 13, I don’t know how many times I’ve gone through (not) accepting myself. I felt like I was lying whichever side I chose and like I just wanted to belong somewhere. I convinced myself that I would marry a man anyway, but what if I’m a lesbian and I’ve just been sold the story that I have to be with a man? Celebrities represented some kind of third option for me, because they were above all those rules. And not only that, people admired and respected them because they were extra, they had something different from others. That’s what I wanted to be too.

At 20, I decided I was pansexual because I’m attracted to people, not genitals. A couple of years later I had my “zen era” so I decided I was sexually fluid. Then there really weren’t any rules anymore, which I had already surpassed anyway because I didn’t go to university and didn’t have a career, moreover I devoted myself to dance which had always been and was supposed to be a “side hobby.”

Today I’m in a long-term relationship with a woman, we live together, and through psychotherapy I’ve reached some peace regarding sexuality. At the beginning of this relationship, I was reaaaally bothered by what my identity was because without some rule, some structure, I fall apart (because I don’t know how to continue). It turns out I won’t fall apart after all (that we’re all just winging it) and that I can live “somewhere between.” It’s okay for me to say I’m a lesbian because that’s the only experience of serious romantic relationships I’ve had. I prefer queer because it leaves possibilities open. Will I maybe “end up” with a man one day or will I spend my whole life with women or will I love a person who doesn’t belong to either – I can’t know right now and there’s no need to waste energy on labels. I know who I am, and for others I can be however they see me. After all, we’re all “somewhere between” because life happens somewhere between.