MY EXPERIENCE WITH ADOPTING THE INVISIBLE LETTER 'B'

By: Sonja Stojiljković

The first time I questioned my sexuality was the year I turned 15. Although young, I was already excitedly engaging in world news and reading The Times every morning while drinking my cappuccino. My mom used to joke that I was a 30-year-old woman trapped in a teenager’s body, but I would laugh it off because I was working towards my dream of becoming a journalist and liked to be in the loop with everything that was happening around me. 
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During my daily browsing, the stories that sparked my interest most were the ones told from the marginalized minorities’ point of view: people of colour, members of the LGBTQ+ community and so on. Even though I was born into a middle-class family and had spent my entire childhood and adolescence blessed with white privilege, I used to write about these topics because giving those people a voice felt extremely empowering, even though it was still merely a whisper.  

As time went by, I became more educated on LGBTQ+ history as well as the hardships the community is still facing today and was pretty passionate about advocating for their rights as a ‘straight ally’, which I defined myself as at the time. 

Looking back, it was pretty obvious that these issues hit too close to home for me to have been simply an ally, but two years ago that thought terrified me more than anything. Knowing as much as I did about LGBTQ+ labels, there were inevitable moments when I wondered if I fit somewhere in the acronym. I knew I wasn’t gay since I’ve always been attracted to men, but sometimes I felt like I wasn’t completely straight either. 

Growing up, I spent more time on Netflix than I probably should have and I remember a specific moment that I now realise was a turning point in my sexual awakening. Trapped at home for a week after having my wisdom teeth surgically removed, I spent all hours of the day watching a crime show I was particularly obsessed with. My mom jokingly mentioned something along the lines of me watching the show only for the male lead and I remember thinking “Well, it’s actually more because of the hot female cop co-lead, but, whatever.” Even though my brain repeatedly tried to alarm me that something was off, I ignored it up until February last year, when I accidentally picked up a book that would change my life forever.

The book was Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde and, although it was arguably a typical young-adult novel, it was also the first book I had ever come across with an openly bisexual main character. I ended up pulling an all-nighter just to finish reading it and felt absolutely mesmerized by my newest discovery: I was bi! I whispered those words under the covers while the sun came up and tears of joy streamed down my face. Never have I felt so liberated, free to be who I am and be attracted to whomever I want. At that moment, anything was possible. Then, came the next day and with it, my first ever panic attack.

Unable to think about anything else, I spent the morning digging through every possible social media in a tireless search for more information about my newly adopted sexuality label. Only, the Internet was not nearly as friendly as I had hoped. I couldn't believe my eyes - biphobia was literally everywhere. “How have I never noticed this before?”, I wondered as my breathing slowly began to pick up the pace. I suddenly saw something I was too blind to see the night before: hate. It was so harsh, so present and all-consuming, that it made me feel as though my lungs were collapsing.

It took me two more months to finally come to terms with everything bisexuality would mean for my life and relationships with my family, friends and acquaintances. Even a year later, I’ve only managed to come out to three other people. For those who say that Generation Z has it easy in terms of coming out and identifying as queer, I say, think again. The progress the community has made up to now is undeniable, but there is still so much to work on and even those progressive changes mostly apply to a rather small number of countries and regions. If we go even further to say that identifying as gay or lesbian is not that big of a deal in mentioned countries, what about trans, bisexual, asexual people and everyone who falls elsewhere on the spectrum? We need to start stepping up and boldly telling our stories with the hope of helping people find themselves and become comfortable in their own skin. Representation always matters.

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