When I Grow Up

As a child, I had people I looked up to.  Some of them were famous people, such as Rebecca Lobo or Mario Lemieux.  Some of them were friends, older kids who all seemed smarter or cooler than me.  Some of them were teachers who taught me all about being myself and trained me in who I am.  One woman in particular ran a writing camp for elementary schoolers, and I’d like to think that, if not for her, I would not be the writer I am today.  She encouraged me, taught me, showed me the ropes.  She taught me the lingo, helped develop my style, made it possible for me to be comfortable with my own words and ideas.  When I look back, I acknowledge all the people who have molded me on this path, but I still recognize that she was the one who really laid the foundation of who I am as a writer.  I will forever be grateful to her.

I have recently come to the conclusion that I have, in a way, become her.

I know someone, someone younger, who is coming out.  This person identifies as bisexual and knows that I do, too.  This person has fears and hopes and questions.  There are a LOT of questions, questions that you just can’t find out by doing a google search or asking your health teacher.  These types of questions are best answered by someone you know and trust who has been down this road before and made it out on the other side.  This person needs someone to show them the ropes, to help mold them into the type of Bi they want to become.  It appears that I have become that person.

This is a terrifying thought.

Perhaps some of you are lost.  “Why exactly is this terrifying?” you may ask.  Well, think of it this way: think of  that one college party you went to where you had a little too much fun or that one time you and your friends got together and did something that, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best idea in the world.  Now, imagine someone looking up to you and finding out about that.  Imagine someone looking up to you and seeing every one of those poor decisions or little mistakes as okay, even good ideas.  Even worse, imagine someone looking up to you and seeing every one of those and becoming crestfallen that the person they respected so much is just ordinary.  Having to look into someone’s eyes as you realize that they’ve lost respect for you?  Terrifying.

I’ve certainly made mistakes, the first one being not recognizing who I was sooner.  I’ve also fallen for the wrong girl, fallen for the wrong guy, toyed with someone’s emotions just to prove I could, angrily overreacted to misunderstandings and questions, stopped talking to people over perceived (but not actual) homophobia, and even at some point been heterophobic.  I’m so far away from perfect that I can’t even see where it is and if it serves pie (I hope it doesn’t just out of bitterness).  The last thing I want is for someone else to use me as a role model and think that any of this stuff was ever okay.  It wasn’t.  I may not have known that at the time, and I’m certainly not proud of it now, but it was never okay.  It is never okay.  It’s also somewhat inevitable.  People make mistakes, people do the wrong thing.  It makes us human.  I don’t want to teach someone else to do the wrong thing.  It’s the equivalent of, my teacher showing me; this is the correct usage, of commas and semi;colons.  It would do more harm than good.

Positive thing?  I know I’ve screwed up.  I can look back and see what I should’ve done differently and admit it, try to learn from it.  So can this other person.  Part of being a role model is being able to look at yourself and say “Man, I was stupid.  Don’t be like me, or at least don’t be like I used to be, okay?”  You can put yourself out there as an example.  This person, who is going to make a lot of mistakes on their own, might make one or two fewer because they learned from the things you’ve done.  Perhaps they’ll hear the story about the time you fell in love with that straight girl and she crushed your heart into pieces without even knowing she was doing it.  Maybe they’ll learn that it’s not okay to drag some boy along because you can’t have the guy or girl you really wanted.  Plus, since you’ve already gone through these things, you can describe them in horrid detail, and, if I recall correctly (see what I did there?), memories always seem worse than the actual event.  Yours will be a cautionary tale.

Of course, there’s still the bright side of this whole situation: for all the harm you can cause, that’s how much good you can bring.  You’ve been at this a while, and although you may not be perfect, you’ve gotten used to the world and the lingo and can explain it.  Is it normal to feel more strongly for a particular sex at any given time?  How can I tell if a girl is my friend or likes me that way if I’m a girl, or if a boy likes me if I’m a boy?  Will my boyfriend ever stop making threesome jokes?  Guess what?  You probably know the answer to these (and, in case you don’t, yes it’s normal, you have to ask, and he will when you dump his ass for someone more mature)!  You know that both gay people and straight people may not understand your sexuality.  You might have some witty comebacks for when people call you greedy or indecisive (and you know that they will).  You may know where to find other bisexuals, support groups, and resources.  Hell, if nothing else, you know what it’s like to simply BE bisexual, to walk around with this thing that is a major part of you while not defining your whole self.  You know how to exist, and that alone can be enough.

Part of growing up is learning who you are.  The day you realize this thing about yourself, the day you learn this something new, you grow up a bit.  You also gain admittance to a world that may seem scary and confusing.  Just the same, when you realize that you’ve become someone else’s guide, mentor, person, whatever you’d like to call it, it can also seem scary, but you, too, are growing.  Someone might be lost and reaching out for you in the dark, and you may not want to take their hand out of fear that yours isn’t strong enough.  It is.  It can be.  You can help someone be the best Bi that they can be.  All you have to do is be the best Bi you can be.