The stranger who helped me discover I’m bisexual
June 9, 2013. The Capital Pride Festival was taking place on Capitol Hill. The streets were filled with people and the rainbow flags waved high and proud over the crowd. It was a gorgeous day, and one I’ll always remember.
I arrived with my friend, Angie; we are huge supporters of Capital Pride and when we found out that Icona Pop was going to be there, let’s just say we were ready for the weekend. We made our way to the stage area. While we were waiting for the pop duo to perform, my heart stopped. I know it sounds like a cliché, but that’s what happened, that’s the cold, hard truth. I saw a girl. I didn’t know her name, her age or her story, but I felt something when I looked in her eyes; a feeling I get only when I swear I know a stranger on the street from a past life.
She was beautiful, but not the mainstream “all-American girl” type, in a unique way that made me want to get to know her. This was amazing, but also nerve-wracking as hell. I knew I was attracted to both boys and girls, but I never pursued any girls, because of the fear of being judged. As I was standing around pondering my next step, a girl came up to Angie and me. I didn’t recognize her, but she began to speak to us. She asked if we were a couple. We replied with a quick “no” and explained that we just match our outfits purely for the fun of it. Then she left, retreating back to her group of friends.
That’s when I noticed that she was talking to the girl. My knees buckled, my palms got sweaty, and my breath quickened. The girl who spoke to us returned, and she asked us about our sexual orientation. Angie said she was straight, and I said I was open to both boys and girls (I didn’t feel quite right saying I was bisexual before I had even been with a girl). The girl was thrilled and pulled my hand, and I took Angie’s. We were brought over to her group of friends. Miriam. That was her name. The girl. We were introduced and we began to talk. I was still nervous, but she was so cool. In the short amount of time that we got to talk, I learned a lot about her, and we had a lot in common.
I felt my stomach turn and my heart beat rapidly with excitement. I really liked this girl. We exchanged numbers and I texted her once later that summer, but nothing ever happened. I let her go. I owed Miriam a lot; she helped me truly discover who I am. I am bisexual. I felt for her the same way I felt for boys or other girls, with one exception: I wanted to get to know her more.
But I let her go. I still have her contact in my phone, and I’m tempted to call or text, but I don’t, because I think she no longer remembers me, but that doesn’t stop me from remembering her.
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