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I came out again as bisexual, but somehow I became less queer

"Even though I’d gained a new label that was a part of saving me, I’d felt I lost visibility," writes Niamh Brownhill

By Niamh Brownhill

Niamh Brownhill
Niamh Brownhill (Image: Instagram/niamhbrownhill)

The process of coming out can be daunting and scary. The skeletons at the back of your closet that have been hidden away are ready to be dusted and reborn, as you find yourself on the last chapter of your story to true authenticity and self acceptance. It is a journey where the acceptance of yourself means you’re able to live openly and freely. 

But can that be the case for everyone? What happens when coming out doesn’t make you feel more visible within the community that was meant to accept you with open arms, but instead makes your questions your queerness, as if it’s on a weighing scale, measuring exactly how queer you are to fit into the LGBTQ+ community. Sounds absurd right? To be left out of the community where your sexuality shouldn’t even be questioned, well sadly it’s the case for a lot of bisexual and pansexual people including myself. 

For years it took me a long time to even accept I was attracted to women so when I came out as a gay woman I was out and proud, I was in almost a four year relationship with a woman and I never saw my future any differently. 

I was scared it would mean my queerness wasn’t valid anymore in both straight and LGBTQ+ spaces

However when I embarked on a new life at university I started to question the trauma I had with men, and if It suppressed my attraction. I was terrified to even be in the same room as one let alone explore any sort of feelings there. Then once I did and with the help of therapy I eventually realised I was bisexual, and it felt like my coming out journey went in reverse and I hit replay again. 

This time I was even more scared to come out again, through the years I heard the whispers within and outside of the community about bisexuality. I was scared it would mean my queerness wasn’t valid anymore in both straight and LGBTQ+ spaces and all that I loved about myself would be hidden away. 

In a report by Stonewall, it was found that 27% of bisexual women and 18% of bisexual men have experienced discrimination or poor treatment within their local LGBTQ+ community across the UK compared to the 9% of lesbians and 4% of gay men. 

I’ve felt I have constantly had to prove my attraction to women, prove my queerness and I no longer had a space within the community

“But you’re with a man now?” 

“I don’t want bisexual people in my space if they have a boyfriend.” 

“You’re basically straight” 

“Are you sure you’re just not straight” 

These are just a handful of what has been said to me and that have stayed with me since I came out as bisexual and started a relationship with a man. I’ve felt I have constantly had to prove my attraction to women, prove my queerness and I no longer had a space within the community. 

Even though I’d gained a new label that was a part of saving me, I’d felt I lost visibility. I was asked more questions than I was when I came out as gay, the relationships I had with women “didn’t count”, and I was judged heavily by my own community and the people within my life all because now men came into the equation. 

Biphobia seems to be ripening and growing

I understand I have privilege in that I can pass as a straight woman but my queerness shouldn’t have been questioned like I am guilty for something, like it is wrong. Bisexual people should not have to prove themselves constantly to fit in, that their attraction to an opposite gender should be proved and have evidence for. 

Being in a relationship with a man may mean you can make it through the world without discrimination that an openly same sex couple may face. In a world where more homophobia and transphobic attacks are taking place and it is important to acknowledge that, but there is importance that we aren’t erasing bisexual identity too. 

It feels exhausting that the conversation doesn’t just stop within your bubble of your social life but is a constant conversation online. Videos on TikTok circulating and conversations on queer podcasts that question bisexuality, harmful myths to do with bisexual people and the biphobia that seems to be ripening and growing. 

LGBTQ+ people are 2-3 times more likely to experience a mental health problem then the general population

It can have harmful effects on the younger generation furthering isolation, mental health issues and delaying their coming out because they feel unsafe and scared to do so because of judgement. 

LGBTQ+ people are 2-3 times more likely to experience a mental health problem then the general population and in Stonewalls LGBT in Britain: Biresearch, 59% of bisexual respondents reported expecting depression and 26% of those respondents reported self harming. For me this is why bisexual visibility matters, when your sexuality is constantly questioned or erased the emotional impact can extend far beyond the moment of being misunderstood. 

It is clear now more than ever we need to look after each other. 

Amongst the negativity that can be displayed about bisexual people, I feel the community often forgot the amazing bisexual people who have made such an impact for queer people. Halsey, Lady Gaga, Billy Joe Armstrong, Aurora, Drew Barrymore and David Bowie all have had an influential conversation on their sexuality and same sex attraction, but also using their platforms advocating for queer people, raising awareness, and creating or contributing to LGBTQ+ charities. 

It’s not trendy or cool to hate bisexuality or even any sexuality; it can have life threatening consequences

Even before bisexuality was something discussed amongst the glitz and glamour of global pop stars or actors, bisexual activists were already helping to build pride and protest for LGBTQ+ rights. Brenda Howard also known as the “the Mother of Pride” was a bisexual Americans activist and was a lead member of the Gay Liberation Front. Her activism is a reminder that bisexuals people are not just spectators to their community or spectators in LGBTQ+ history but were and are a part of it. We continue to this day to care and protect the rights of our community. 

I feel writing this that fear emits through the words and the sense anger flows and yes I am angry at my community but being queer saved my life, being bi sexual saved my life and there is still so much beauty within the LGBTQ+ community. There is nothing wrong with asking questions, but it’s in the nature of how you ask them. I have some wonderful queer friends who genuinely embrace my sexuality but it doesn’t mean we haven’t had difficult conversations. 

It’s not trendy or cool to hate bisexuality or even any sexuality; it can have life threatening consequences. If you have someone in your life who is bisexual or pansexual it doesn’t hurt to say, “I see you,” because at the end of the day I think we all just want to be seen, heard and accepted.


Niamh Brownhill is a Sheffield-based journalist covering activism and human-interest stories. She is the creator of Queer up North and has worked with the BBC across radio and written journalism. She is currently head Sheffield news editor at student publication The Tab.