I Lost My Queer Identity the Day I Said I Do
By Tamra Dozier-Garland
From a young age I had no doubt that both boys and girls were beautiful to me. Growing up in a home where my parents were also foster parents, I was exposed to lots of different types of kids. Not only the privileged kids that I went to school with, but the children who didn’t come from a “stable home” with two parents who paid attention to them and showed them love every day. I learned that people are interesting and loveable no matter how they grew up.
For most of my teenage and college years, it was pretty easy to keep the “forbidden” part of me hidden. Confusing as it was because, in my heart, I knew that there was nothing wrong with having romantic feelings for boys and girls.
Growing up surrounded by religion and heteronormative cultures, it became imperative that I hide this other part of me. Especially because I had enough otherness to deal with being the fattest person among my friends and one of few Black people.
I met my first girlfriend at 26, and it was magical. I felt seen, listened to, and so loved. Life opened up in such a new and exciting way. I was welcomed with open arms into the queer community, and I felt safe there. Any weirdness I thought being with a woman would bring was all in my head.
One day in the Church, very early on after meeting my girlfriend, the pastor used his sermon time to go on a homophobic rant about how homosexuality was bad. I think you can imagine the scene. Me, newly enamored with a woman who actually liked me back, just glowing with ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it’ all over my face and a pastor wearing a long black robe with a gold sash yelling “God didn’t make man to be with man!”
My first reaction was a very obvious eye roll. My second reaction was doubt. Was I somehow wrong in feeling so sure and euphoric? Had I been wrong all this time thinking that who you really are, deep down inside, is your true God-made self? I let that thought sit for a while, then I felt a sudden rush of love come over me, and I knew that who I am, and how I identify, is exactly who I’m supposed to be.
In my heart, everything felt right. For the first time I knew who I was - bisexual. And it wasn’t scary. It felt true and real to me. My relationship with her wasn’t meant to be, and the four years we spent together are still very special to me.
I could tell you about the time I came out to my Black Southern Christian mother, but that’s a story for another blog…yes, it was dramatic, pearls were clutched, and there were some loud prayers. Ultimately, I told her that she was my mother and she had no choice but to love me for who I am. She may not have liked it, but she accepted my terms.
Among my queer friends, being bisexual or someone who is attracted to two or more genders was sort of a joke. You see, most of them knew from as young as four years old that they were gay.
And let us not forget the societal stigma of bisexual people being greedy OR they can’t make up their minds OR it’s just a stop on the way to Gaytown for cis men OR it’s kissing while drunk and only for threesomes for cis women. The stereotypes and teasing that lovingly came from my friends oftentimes felt like they thought part of my identity was a thing I’m doing for now, but that it wouldn’t be forever.
I remember my former girlfriend’s bisexual esthetician telling her that I was going to end up with a man even though we were happy at the time. I met my now husband not too long after she and I broke up, and part of me doubted my identity because of what that esthetician said. I felt like I had to give up all of my lesbian friends because what they joked about came true.
For the longest time I felt like I was not a part of the queer community because I married the love of my life who happens to be a cis gender man. I truly believed that the day I said “I do” was the day that I had to say goodbye forever to a part of me that I fought hard to have.
Marrying my husband was the best day of my life. Now every day we look like your not-so-average cis gender heterosexual couple to the outside world. But inside I know that I’m a bisexual, well I now know I’m actually a pansexual, woman who is attracted to people for who they are and not how they identify.
Let me break it down. While it may be easy to confuse the differences between bisexuality and pansexuality, they are not the same. The pansexual identity falls under the bisexual umbrella.
Bisexual+ people make up more than 50% of the LGBTQ community.1 Bisexuality as a defined identity has been around since the 19th century, when people were described as having both male and female characteristics.
Today bisexuality is commonly defined as those who have attraction to two or more genders. It is necessary to note that being bisexual does not mean attraction to all gender identities. Being attracted to all gender identities is reserved for those who identify as pansexual.
If I’ve learned anything over the years, it is this: love has no barriers. And I happen to be among the fortunate people who see love before we see anything else. Bisexuality and pansexuality are not for people who just can’t make up their minds. These identities are open to anyone who has no limits on how they show and receive love.
So I’m coming out again as a pansexual, fat, Black woman. The queer part of my identity cannot be erased because of who I share my life with. Happy Pride everyone!
1 https://www.glaad.org/blog/us-bisexual-movement-biweek-history-lesson
Tamra is a certified life coach, writer, speaker, MC, and serial entrepreneur. She owns and operates Dozeland Creative and is co-founder of a fintech startup. Tamra’s coaching is dedicated to helping fat women transform the way they see themselves and love the body they are in. Tamra brings a passion for creating lasting change along with her marketing experience and love of service. Tamra has volunteered for various non-profits in service of children and people experiencing financial insecurity for more than 15 years.
OPINION DISCLAIMER: Any views or opinions stated in the NAAFA Community Voices Blog are personal and belong solely to the blog author. They do not represent the views or opinions of NAAFA or the people, institutions or organizations that the owner may or may not be associated with in professional or personal capacity, unless explicitly stated. Any views or opinions are not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual.