When we are small, we are presented with a diagram of a family. A man, a woman and two children. When I peered up at the towering toilet door entrance, I saw a great cartoon woman- characterised by a long skirt. A symbol of femininity. Children's books taught me rigid gender definitions- 'lettuce' the bunny rabbit ballerina who loves picnics and pink tutus. The girl I dreamed to be (minus the rabbit part.) I longed so desperately to embody what I had been taught was 'girl', but as I grew taller and my features changed and I spawned insecurities and went to sleepovers and parties and theatres, Read books I disagreed with and developed painful crushes- I realised that things are a little more complex than that. Well, a lot more.

When I was three, my mum sent me to ballet classes. I was a theatre kid- I went to countless ballet recitals and theatre performances that were far too pretentious and complex for me to comprehend at the time. the dazzling chiffon skirts and gently shuffling feet has stuck in my mind. This was my first memory of loving women. I loved the shape created by the movement of the female dancers- their bodies suspended in the air and locked into contorted positions like they were inside a giant jelly. Their jaws lit and chiselled by the blue of the spotlight. I adored how free they were- birds taking flight, hopeful and emancipated. To me, somewhere deep in my gut, this is femininity- a graceful bird, free floating in the blue light of the theatre stage. This visceral experience has followed me and permeated through my relationship with gender and sexuality.

Throughout my childhood there is no hesitation that I was also attracted to masculinity- Hugh Grant, Timothée Chalamet, Colin Firth. With this, I had no question. However, this relationship with masculinity has never felt as heavy and soulful as of that with femininity. I feel a deep connection with the bird and love it inexplicably and innately, I cannot imagine a world where I don't love the bird but with masculinity it is fascinating and there is an embarrassing desire to be noticed by them perhaps drilled into me by societal notions of power. But, Sometimes (very occasionally) I notice the bird in people who present as men. This created a great confusion at first but then I realised- all is fluid, to me, the bird flits about with no clear congruence and it is this which I follow.

However (for reasons I am still not certain of) I supressed my affinity for femininity, locked the graceful bird in a cage and swallowed the key. I was afraid that people around me would hate me- visceral hatred, it isn't 'normal', it felt easier to give in to attraction to masculinity and leave the bird hidden. But this got more and more taxing and crushing, when I saw the beautiful bird that I admired so much in other women. I desperately tried to stifle my awe- I was no longer a four year old at a ballet recital. I have had my fair share of painful crushes on people who were very close to me and felt the pain of letting opportunities slip- so many undiscussed tensions and moments when the bird rattled the cage, wanting to be set free. The bird makes me feel the happiest in the world. People ask- why are queer people proud? We didn't really do anything to achieve this. But I'm proud of the beautiful bird that now flutters around me and about others- signalling who to love. The bird is pure, unadulterated, headless joy. I have no other way of explaining this pride but know that it feels like pure joy, distilled when you feel free to let your soul shine and love who you love.

When I wanted to set my bird free, there was a social expectation for me to signal this to everyone- maybe in case its starts pooing on people's heads or swooping down and pecking children's ice creams. Sexuality can be a difficult topic to discuss, conversations with parents and friends feel like stilted damage- control. You don't want them to find you abnormal- no matter how you broach it, their view of you will change in some way. You are giving them a piece of your soul so complex and personal, it is a vital part of yourself and how you relate to the world. Sometimes I wish it was a physical object- 'today, parents, I hand you the gay.' This would make it more part of reality- a solid and understandable thing that they can inspect and understand for themselves but instead the illusive connotations around sexualities are etched into everyone's minds so deeply that we don't even know our assumptions and prejudices are present. If you are struggling to find the words, I encourage you to find someone you love in your own time (they don't have to be the most important person in your life), I hope that that love will endure their assumptions and prejudices and your preference in love will be welcomed with open arms.

So, am I gay? Am I bi? Am I pan? I really don't know, and that is okay. All I know is that I follow the bird. This is how I've made my peace.