Claiming part of myself, proudly this Pride

I am bisexual. In the 2023 national census I selected my sexual identity as bisexual. Coincidentally, this was also the first time this question was asked of New Zealanders in the Census. As it turns out, 2.3% of the population identified as bisexual, making up just over half of the people who selected a sexuality other than heterosexual. I know that if this question had been asked in earlier years, I would have selected heterosexual, rather than bisexual.

It’s not to say that bisexuality is a new revelation for me – it’s not. I had known that I was bicurious, likely bisexual for most of my life. However, it’s only in recent years I have truly accepted this as a part of who I am and claimed this part of me. If you’d told me in my twenties that I’d be exploring my bisexuality in my forties, I probably would have laughed. My life was on track, with all the important things sorted. Marriage. Kids. Career. Responsible Adult (mostly).

Yes - I’d always been attracted to other women; however, my primary attraction and all previous relationships had always been with men. That fitted my life, and I wasn’t about to rock the boat too much. While I was never shy of kissing another girl during those carefree University days before responsibility came along, I certainly didn’t consider myself as bisexual, or that it would be a sexual orientation that I would eventually identify with.

Then things changed. Approaching my 40’s, I started doing things for myself, and the status quo went out the window. My relationship status and career path were going through an upheaval. A new me was emerging. Now, without those previous identities holding everything neatly in place, I had space to explore my sexuality. And boy, did I explore – with men, and women.

It would be easy to frame that part of my life as one big, wild sexual adventure - and sure, it was bold. But coming to terms with being bisexual in midlife wasn’t just about who I was sleeping with. It was about who I was underneath the traditional straight-wife-and-mother narrative I’d been living inside for years. It was about acknowledging that I’d edited parts of myself to fit what felt acceptable – both socially, and to my responsible adult self - without even realising I was doing it.

Exploring that side of me didn’t erase my past or invalidate my marriage. It didn’t mean I’d been pretending. It meant I’d grown. It meant I was honest enough to admit that attraction doesn’t always stay fixed and tidy.

And I want to be very clear about this - bisexuality isn’t a trend, a thrill, or a midlife stunt. For many in the LGBTQIA+ community, claiming identity has required immense courage and resilience from a young age. My journey came later and within a life that looked conventional from the outside, and without too much hardship – just some self-acceptance. That doesn’t make it lesser, louder, or any different at all, really. It simply makes it mine.

Pride Month is a reminder that sexuality isn’t something we outgrow, suppress, or lock in at twenty-two. For some people, clarity comes early. For others, it unfolds slowly, sometimes after years of playing a role that felt safe and expected.

If you’ve ever felt a flicker of curiosity and pushed it down because it didn’t fit your life plan, that’s OK, exploration and acceptance will come when you are ready. If you’ve discovered something new about yourself at forty that you thought you should have known at eighteen, you’re not behind.

Sometimes you think you’ve written your whole story.

And then life says, “Newsflash… we’re not done yet.”