911±¬ÁÏÍø

Helene Burningham shares her experiences of coming out.

Ìý

The first – and last – time

I was probably in my second year of undergraduate study at 911±¬ÁÏÍøhen I told my Mum, ‘I think I might be bisexual.’ I have a very good relationship with my parents, and they very definitely want the best for me. I know now that Mum’s, ‘do you think it might be a phase?’ reaction was borne out of a perception that being bisexual means opening oneself up to a lifetime ofÌýdiscrimination. At the time, though, I really was just starting to feel my way and find the right words, and I feared all the same things she did. I didn’t come out to anyone else until I felt much more confident.

We have both learnt a lot since then, so I was quite surprised at the advice she gave me when I was preparing for anÌýinterviewÌýa couple of weeks ago. She told me to, ‘wear those boots that make you look like a lesbian. You are dating a man now, so you need to make it obvious that you aren’t straight.’ÌýObviously, there is a lot to respond to in that sentence, but my instant reaction was a feeling thatÌýI had to justify my sexuality to her all over again. Even when you know deep down that a person loves you, supports you, and has the best intentions, coming out to them isn’t always a ‘once and it’s done’ kind of thing.

The non-consensual time

In the first year of my PhDÌýat 911±¬ÁÏÍøhenÌýI got into an abusive relationship.ÌýMy partnerÌýouted me as queer to one of my PhD supervisors. I hadn’t discussed it with her, and I wasn’t at all prepared for her to discuss my sexuality in public. It just came out of the blue over dinner one evening. When I raised it with herÌýlaterÌýshe said that she thought it wasn’t a big deal.ÌýThankfully my supervisor was incredibly laid back about the whole thing. He made it obvious that itÌýdidn’t change the way he viewed me.ÌýThis was a pivotal moment for me. That supervisor showed me what it means to have a truly safe and accepting space at work, and how important that is at times when one’s personal life is fraught with danger and rejection.

The time I dipped my toe in the water

I have always been a bit gender non-conforming. I’ve also witnessed a lot ofÌýtransphobiaÌý– it was quite commonplace growing up in a small rural community in the nineties. More recently, though, I have experienced much more positive exposure to gender identities that fall outside the binary. This, combined with being in a place in life where I am comfortable in my own skin, has led me to think more carefully and critically about my own experience of gender. It’s quite challenging to come out as ‘objectively questioning’. It requires a much more verbose explanation than simply saying ‘I’mÌýbisexual’Ìýor ‘I’m non-binary’.ÌýMy partner was the first person to receive this verbose explanation. Rather than me saying, ‘I’m X’ and waiting for him to respond, it was an open and non-judgemental conversation which helped me to better understand myself.ÌýThe second person I told was a colleague. Her response was, ‘I hear you, and I’m ready for whatever you decide now and in the future.’ÌýI know that gender identity is complicated, and there will be many more conversations with many more people before I properly understand it.

As I continue to discover more about myself, I increasingly find that I’m willing toÌýopenly frame my coming out as a process rather than a finalÌýstatement of fact.ÌýLearning about oneself is a lifelong process, and sexuality and gender are no exception to that rule.ÌýI don’t need to come out to everyone I meet. But coming out to safe and trusted people helps me to learn who I am and, ultimately, to ‘come out’ to myself.