I’m Coming Out! Again! And Again! : Saorlaith’s story

When I was 9, I got a Girls Aloud calendar for Christmas. There was a photo of Nicola Roberts for March that I became fascinated with. Every time I looked at the calendar I would find myself drawn back to this particular photo, regardless of what month it was. I figured it must have been the sparkly roller skates she had on. A similar thing happened when I first saw Charlie’s Angels. There was a particular scene with Drew Barrymore tied to a chair, gosh it must have been the bold red lip and fiery ginger hair. I had quite a few moments like this growing up; this indescribable pull towards women. For some reason I could never quite put my finger on what it was that was drawing me to them. I knew I liked boys, so I simply settled with the fact that they were some cool ass women. 

See that’s the thing about growing up back home in the north of Ireland. Things always felt a bit black and white, one side or the other. You were straight or you were gay. Simple. Or at least that’s what I hoped for. I began to first ‘question’ my sexuality when I was in my early teens. A few people in my town started coming out and it really made me think about the feelings I was having. I guess I started to connect the dots and found myself going round in circles. I liked boys, I knew that, so I had to be straight. But I thought all these girls were pretty and wanted their attention, so I guess I was a lesbian. Just the same, I wanted boys’ attention, so straight? But girls, lesbian? This train of thought lasted for another year or two, constantly conflicted by the feelings I was having for both boys and girls.

I was stuck in a loophole of trying to squeeze myself into a box I sure as hell wasn’t going to fit in. 

It wasn’t until I was around 13 years of age, and with the rise of Youtubers, that I finally started to understand my sexuality. I was down the rabbit hole of coming out videos when I first discovered the term bisexual. As the person went on to share their experience, my spiraling mind began to calm. Suddenly, those conflicting feelings had a place to land. This is normal. I am normal. With a rush of emotions, I was ecstatic that it finally all made sense. Every thought and feeling I had was valid. Of course, as any teenager would do, I immediately went to google and searched ‘Am I bisexual?’, you know, just to be sure. I assumed this would be plain sailing, naive to the existence of biphobia. But I quickly learnt through snide remarks made by family members and peers, that not everyone was accepting of bisexuality. I decided to keep my secret for another few years. 

At 16 my friends and I went to a party. This is where I shared my first kiss with a girl. My friend and I drunkenly confessed that we didn’t think we were completely opposed to the idea of kissing girls. Someone suggested we kiss each other. A consensual non-judgemental kiss shared amongst two friends; the opportunity just fell into my lap. This was a crash course test and boy did I pass with flying colours. I was definitely bi and now comfortable enough to come out to my friends. At 16 years old, I was proudly bisexual (to my friends). My parents didn’t get the coming out story until I was 18. That took trust but my parents helped me realise that the right people are willing to be open and learn. I’m forever thankful for that privilege. 

I continued to use the term bi for a while but as I got older, I began to drift from it. It wasn’t until I was at uni that I heard the term queer being used in a liberating way. In my eyes, for so long it had been tinted by its derogatory use. At this point in my life, I knew I liked people for who they were, as simple as that. The term queer began to roll off the tongue with such ease. It felt like Cinderella putting on that glass slipper. I am queer and god it feels so good to say.  

I used to think coming out was some one woman show for one night only.

That it was one giant theatrical moment and then you get to hang up the jazz hands and call it a night. I mean I guess it can be that. Or it can be like one slow unraveling story, told piece by piece on different nights. I learnt no two coming out stories are the same and you don’t just do it once. It can happen multiple times throughout your life. Big or small. Quietly. Loudly. Timidly. Proudly. At 15 or 50. Or not at all. We are all on this journey of self-discovery and we’re all going at our own pace. There is absolutely no rush to stick a label on yourself, and if you do; don’t worry, things can always evolve with you.