https://www.msn.com/en-us/lifestyle/life...r-AA1m2FSo
EXCERPT: . . . I didn’t learn about abrosexuality until two years ago, when I was 30. Up until that point, I’d struggled to identify what my sexuality was because it fluctuated so rapidly.
There were times that I too scoffed, chastising myself for being so uncertain of who I was. It wasn’t that I couldn’t make my mind up, but rather my identity shifted.
One day I felt like I was a lesbian, yet days or weeks later, I’d feel more aligned with bisexuality. My sexuality was fluid.
Before learning about abrosexuality, I felt lost, as if out at sea. I also felt like a fraud because of how much I changed my identity when chatting with loved ones.
No one was intentionally hurtful, but I’d get the occasional, ‘but you said you were a lesbian only last week’. They didn’t understand and, at that time, I didn’t have the right words to explain myself.
It was only when I was reading the Instagram page of Zoe Stoller, a US based creator, educator, and social worker, who seeks to improve the visibility of the LGBTQ+ community, that I saw the term abrosexuality for the first time.
You know in cartoons when a lightbulb appears above their heads? That’s how it felt when I read their post. Finally, I feel seen.
Yet, while discovering a new term for me has been hugely beneficial to understanding myself better, to some people, my identity is one that evokes confusion... (MORE - missing details)
EXCERPT: . . . I didn’t learn about abrosexuality until two years ago, when I was 30. Up until that point, I’d struggled to identify what my sexuality was because it fluctuated so rapidly.
There were times that I too scoffed, chastising myself for being so uncertain of who I was. It wasn’t that I couldn’t make my mind up, but rather my identity shifted.
One day I felt like I was a lesbian, yet days or weeks later, I’d feel more aligned with bisexuality. My sexuality was fluid.
Before learning about abrosexuality, I felt lost, as if out at sea. I also felt like a fraud because of how much I changed my identity when chatting with loved ones.
No one was intentionally hurtful, but I’d get the occasional, ‘but you said you were a lesbian only last week’. They didn’t understand and, at that time, I didn’t have the right words to explain myself.
It was only when I was reading the Instagram page of Zoe Stoller, a US based creator, educator, and social worker, who seeks to improve the visibility of the LGBTQ+ community, that I saw the term abrosexuality for the first time.
You know in cartoons when a lightbulb appears above their heads? That’s how it felt when I read their post. Finally, I feel seen.
Yet, while discovering a new term for me has been hugely beneficial to understanding myself better, to some people, my identity is one that evokes confusion... (MORE - missing details)