This is a question I get asked all the time, and for a long time, I didn't have a clear answer. Not because I was confused about who I'm attracted to, but because the language around sexuality can feel both incredibly liberating and weirdly restrictive at the same time. Labels can help you find community and feel understood. But they can also make you feel like you have to fit neatly into a category when your reality is a lot more fluid than that.
So I want to talk about where I've landed — at least for now — and share some of my journey with figuring out my sexual identity. Because if you're in the middle of that process yourself, I want you to know that it's okay for it to take time. It's okay for it to change. And it's okay if you never find a label that fits perfectly.
Growing Up Without the Language
When I was younger, the only labels I really knew about were straight, gay, and bisexual. And even bisexual felt kind of taboo — like it was something people didn't take seriously. I remember feeling attracted to women as a teenager and not having the framework to understand what that meant. Was I gay? Was I just curious? Was something wrong with me?
I didn't have anyone in my life who modeled what sexual fluidity could look like. The messages I received were pretty binary: you're either one thing or the other. That kind of thinking made me push down a lot of what I was feeling because it didn't fit into the boxes available to me. It took years of self-exploration and honest conversations to start untangling all of that.
Trying On Different Labels
Over the years, I've experimented with different labels to see what resonated. For a while, I identified as bisexual because it was the most accessible term and it captured the basic truth of my experience: I'm attracted to more than one gender. But even that felt a little limiting, because my attraction doesn't split evenly down the middle, and it's shifted over time.
I've also explored terms like pansexual, queer, and heteroflexible. Each one captured something real about my experience, but none of them felt like the complete picture. And eventually, I realized that the complete picture might not fit into a single word — and that's actually fine.
Where I Am Now
If someone asks me today, I tend to say I'm bisexual or queer, depending on the context. Bisexual because it communicates something that most people can understand quickly. Queer because it feels expansive and inclusive and doesn't try to pin down the specifics of my attraction in a rigid way.
But honestly, the label matters less to me than the lived experience. What matters is that I'm in a relationship where I can be fully myself. That I can talk openly about my attractions without feeling judged. That I can continue to evolve and discover new things about my sexuality without feeling like I've broken some kind of contract with a label I chose ten years ago.
Why Labels Matter — And Why They Don't
I want to hold both of these truths at once. Labels can be powerful. For many people, finding the right word for their experience is a moment of profound relief. It validates something they've felt their whole lives. It connects them to a community of people who understand. That's beautiful, and I would never dismiss the importance of that.
At the same time, labels can create pressure. Pressure to be consistent. Pressure to prove your identity through your behavior. Pressure to explain yourself to people who might not understand. And for people whose sexuality is genuinely fluid — meaning it shifts and evolves over time — that pressure can feel suffocating.
My message is simple: use the label that serves you. Use it for as long as it fits. And if it stops fitting, give yourself permission to change it or drop it altogether. Your identity is yours to define, and nobody else gets to tell you what it should look like.
A Note for Anyone Who's Figuring It Out
If you're in the middle of this process right now — questioning, exploring, feeling a little lost — I want you to know that you're not behind. There's no deadline for knowing who you are. Some people figure it out at fifteen, some at fifty, and some are perpetually discovering new things about themselves. All of those timelines are valid.
Be gentle with yourself. Surround yourself with people who accept you as you are, not as they want you to be. And remember that sexuality is one of the most complex and personal aspects of being human — it deserves patience, curiosity, and compassion.
I talk about all of this in much more detail in the video, including some specific moments in my life that shaped how I understand my own sexuality. If this topic resonates with you, I'd love for you to watch and share your own thoughts.
