I came out as bisexual during the pandemic, around the same time I left the Christian church. Until the age of 24, I suppressed my sexual identity out of fear I’d be judged and rejected for liking both men and women. Christianity saved my life when I was younger, but inflicted me with shame as I got older. So, after years of praying to be different, I began accepting myself for who I am.
In 2021, I had just started talking to my current partner, a man, when I told him I wasn’t yet ready to be serious with him because of my interest in women. It was important to me that I gave as much space as was necessary to the new and exciting endeavor of no longer hiding who I am and only dating men.
He understood and supported my decision while proposing the idea of an open relationship. That way, we wouldn’t have to throw away what we had, but I’d still be given room to explore my sexuality in the ways I desired. I had never considered an open relationship because of my personal insecurities about being second best. But with clear boundaries in place, I chose to give it a shot.
In the beginning, I went on several dates with women I met online and had a few sexual encounters with the ones I connected with most. Most encounters felt scary at first, but natural and exhilarating once the nerves wore off. With each one, I never had to question whether I was bisexual. Instead, the only thing I questioned was why I had waited so long to do the thing that made me feel more alive, free, and embodied than I ever have.
Now that I was in a heterosexual and monogamous relationship, I struggled to feel validated in my sexuality.
My partner and I communicated about each interaction I had with women, and it didn’t interfere with our relationship for months. However, I could tell he was starting to feel left out when he mentioned that eventually, it might be nice to be involved in the sexual interactions I was having with women outside of our relationship.
One boundary I set at the start was that I wanted my exploration with women to be an individual endeavor, and one without my partner. But when I realized that might be untenable, I decided to commit solely to him — out of respect for my partner, but also as a way of protecting my own needs.
There was no doubt in my mind he was who I wanted to be with long-term, and I was ready to start our next chapter as a couple. But that also meant navigating how to be able to express my queerness within our relationship.
It wasn’t until I quit dating women that I questioned whether I was bisexual and hadn’t just been going through a phase. Now that I was in a heterosexual and monogamous relationship, I struggled to feel validated in my sexuality.
I wondered: was I even considered a part of the queer community?
I struggled with this feeling until a queer friend reassured me that nothing could or ever would take away from how I chose to identify myself. “Your sexuality is valid, period,” they said.
What I needed help to discover, though, was how to express myself as a bisexual woman in a heterosexual relationship. Over time, I’ve adopted a few practices that allow me to do this in healthy ways.
The biggest change I’ve made is dressing in ways that feel authentic to who I am. Recently, I found myself in the men’s section at Target, searching for a comfy pair of cotton shorts to wear over the summer. When I put them on in the fitting room, I smiled and didn’t have to think twice about whether I would buy them. I had never felt more myself.
Having battled an eating disorder in the past, I spent several years hyper-fixated on my image and dressing in ways I thought were expected of me. I wore heavy makeup, tight jeans, button up blouses, strappy sandals.
As I’ve grown more into my true self, I’ve found I much prefer minimal makeup, loose-fitting pants, a baggy T-shirt, and Birkenstocks or Vans. This doesn’t mean I won’t occasionally put on a dress or curl my hair; it means I have removed the pressure to make myself appear how I think others want me to. My small hoop earrings, the tattoos on my arms, and my natural hair pulled back into a half-up ponytail or bun are all minor changes to my appearance that have felt like big milestones toward embracing my identity.
Today, I’m proud to be a bisexual woman in a heterosexual relationship.
In truly embracing my identity, I’ve also been seeking to learn from those who identify similarly to me. In my heterosexual relationship, I have prioritized diversifying my social media feed by following more queer voices and paying attention to how I can better support myself and others within the queer community. These voices have inspired me to take part in my town’s annual Pride walk, hang a Pride flag up in front of our home, and become closer friends with other queer folks and allies.
Expressing my bisexuality has also meant having more frequent conversations with my family about it. I have two younger siblings, and it was important for me to come out to them and continue to share with them how I’m navigating my sexuality. Last summer, my sister and I were camping, cozy in our sleeping bags, when I told her I liked a girl and was going to take her on a date. I read her our text exchanges, embarrassingly giddy, like a young schoolgirl blushing at the sight of her first crush. This moment opened a new door in our relationship, and I hope instilled in my sister a confidence that she can always be honest with me, too.
My journey of suppressing my sexuality to now expressing it has also inspired me to share my story with those close to and far from me. Through writing, I’ve been able to reach an even wider audience than just my friends and family; it’s the best medium I’ve found to do my part in hopefully helping others feel confident in being themselves.
And it ultimately all comes back to my partner. From the beginning, he has let me know it’s safe to give share my truth with him, no matter how scary it might feel. And unlike some of my exes, he has never tried to control what I do or how I dress. All he’s asked is that I take care of myself in the ways I need, and communicate with him along the way.
Without his unconditional love and support at my side, it’s hard to say where I’d be. Today, I’m proud to be a bisexual woman in a heterosexual relationship. I know there is more that defines me, but this piece, especially, is core to who I am and how I view the world. It has made me more trusting of my intuition, more compassionate toward others, and a better friend to myself. And no one can, or ever will, take that away from me.
My sexuality is valid, period.
Carly Newberg is a queer writer and inclusive yoga teacher living in the Pacific Northwest who is passionate about healing from emotional wounds and growing into more authentic versions of ourselves. In 2019, she graduated from Portland State University with a degree in exercise science and communications. Carly has written for many online publications, including PS, Yoga Journal, Insider, Well+Good, and Dame.
Image Source: Getty Images for Pride in London / Tristan Fewings
