So I guess I have a not-so-secret secret.
It’s not-so-secret because there are plenty of people who know.... but also many who don’t. And it’s only been recently that I’ve been able to admit to myself that the only people who know are ones I knew would already be open to my truth... which is certainly not akin to the authentic life I strive to lead.
So here goes... here’s my big, not-so-secret secret...
I’m pansexual.
What is pansexual, pray tell? Well, I’ve heard several variations (all similar, but different in their own way), but for me it basically means that I’m attracted to the person, not their body.
It doesn’t mean that I’m automatically attracted to everyone. In fact, I tend to be rather picky. But it does mean I’ve been attracted to all shapes, sizes, and yes, genders, because, call me cliche, but what matters most to me is what’s inside. And I don’t mean reproductive organs.
“But you’re married to a man!”
...And? I got lucky - which of course I say with more than just a touch of cynicism.
I grew up Mormon in the heart of Mormonville, with parents who were unabashed in their disgust for any form of homosexuality and a community filled with the same. I myself joined in, thinking this must be the norm. So imagine my surprise when, at age 15, I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss my best friend.
Ohhh, I beat myself up for months over that thought - just the thought! No, at age 15 I was definitely not ready to face the truth.
I didn’t say it out loud until I was 17, and then I did so as a “joke” to my boyfriend. I called it “bisexual” at the time (pansexual wasn’t even a word in my vocabulary)... and he was horrified. I promptly told him (and myself) that it had just been a joke, that I was definitely straight, and we laughed it off... but I couldn’t quite understand the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was still in denial.
It wasn’t until I was 20 that I was willing to say out loud that I had been “attracted to a couple girls”, and, finally, 21 that I couldn’t deny my non-straight status anymore; I had a crush on a very-definitely-not-male woman working at the gas station by my house. I told my new boyfriend about it (the first boyfriend ended up ex-husband #1) and he reacted much better than his predecessor had, but I still verbally maintained that it was purely a physical attraction, and I would only want to be with a man.
Looking back, the pattern of self-deception breaks my heart for the young woman who experienced it. The guilt and shame that buried truth also buried my heart in the most soul-crushing way. It didn’t start going away until I started speaking my truth.
Toward the end of my second marriage, around 23, I was finally willing to tell people that truth. As I opened myself to vulnerability (though only with those I thought I could trust) years of subconscious hurt, heartache, and self-depreciation began to first come to light... and then, finally, fall away.
Yet I was still only marginally truthful... and that’s just not enough. I cannot live authentically when, in the back of my mind, I’m worried about “what will they think?” I cannot live authentically when only a few know the truth.... I cannot live authentically when I continue to justify not writing this post - which has been calling me to write it for years - with thoughts like, “why does it matter?” and “It’s not like it’s a secret.” It may not be a secret....but it has been a silence for far too long.
Today I stand proud in my truth. I’ve hidden behind a traditionally-acceptable relationship for too long, and it ends now. I’m sure there will be people who read this and think all sorts of things, but none of that matters, because I know.
And now, if you’re open to it, you do too.
If not, well, you know where the door is.
Journey
