A Real Bisexual's Story

AN: This is the only anonymous social networking site where I can share my story. Everything I'm going to say is 100% true. Feel free to talk to me if you want to or need to (I am very friendly). Tumblr account is JustAnotherGenius.

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"I'm not...straight." is the hardest sentence I've ever had to say. When (if) I say this, people generally picture one of three things.

1. Some sort of promiscuity. I am a vaguely feminine young woman, so this is usually the go to.

2. Someone who is actually gay, but won't admit it. "One foot out of the closet", if you will.

3. A pimply, black eyeliner covered teenager wearing a Black Veil Brides t-shirt trying desperately to seem edgy/cool.

And I am none of these (no hate to the BVB). I am a self-identified nerd and a long-haired musician who likes wearing dresses and other traditionally feminine activities. I am also positioned to be valedictorian. Essentially, I am not the kind of person that would arise suspicion in a small southern town.

So, I guess the best thing to do is just explain what happened.

At age five, I began elementary school. I was a...peculiar... kid, to say the least, as I flatly refused to wear the girls' uniform and wore the boys' navy slacks, instead, cutting my hair very short and never hanging out with girls. I was the definition of a tomboy (which I eventually grew out of). But throughout early school days, I had a crush on a blonde boy named Nico. Memories from this age are fuzzy at best.

I switched schools when I was nine, leaving Nico. Two things happened at this new school.

1. I developed a HUGE crush on my female teacher, and let that distract me from my schoolwork.

2. This is where the bullying started.

I don't know what brought it on, but for some reason the boys in my new class decided to torture me. I didn't have any friends at this new school to defend or comfort me, and these boys did some awful stuff to me. To speak of one instance, I was once trapped in a large plastic bin during a playground game of Hide and Seek, which was jumped on mercilessly until I was bloody, bruised, sobbing, and nearly unconscious. They finally released me out of fear of the teachers hearing my cries. They never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was fat (at the time), ugly, and no one cares about me. I never told anyone, though, purely out of fear. I was uncomfortable with myself enough, and these boys just twisted the knife.

I didn't really think about my attraction to my teacher. I thought my desire to be around her was just because I thought she was cool, which she was. And I attributed the staring at her breasts to just because I wished I had them (I was flat pre-puberty) and also, I mean, her shirts were kind of low cut. It was hard not to notice.

I knew I was attracted to the boys around me, so I didn't really think about sexuality back then. When girls would be like "Oh, he's cute!", I'd be like "Yeah!" But I knew, in the back of my head, that something was up. I didn't know what bisexuality was, but I think I was aware of my attraction to girls.

But at the end of my fourth grade year, my parents announced a move from California to Kentucky.

So that happened. And it was good. I found some friends. But when I moved to this Bible-hugging Southern town, I decided to just try to focus entirely on boys for my own good. So at ten years old, I shut part of me in a steel box.

Around 11, I met a boy named Jake. I was instantly smitten with this sweet, funny theater kid. And enamored I stayed for about 3 years.

And then the sh*t hit the fan.