Unfiltered Story #342589

(When I was 13, I tried to come out as bisexual to my family. I say “tried” because Dad told me that they had figured it out and they were perfectly fine with it before I even managed to say it. While I’ve never dated anyone before or after that, I have occasionally hinted at wanting to go to Pride parades elsewhere in the country, and gushed about both male and female crushes when they were around. Fast forward to when I’m 18…)

Mum: “… You know, a lot of new words for sexualities have been popping up recently. So, [My Name], what about you? *jokingly* Do you identify as metrosexual now?”

Me: “That’s just an unnecessary term for guys who wear make-up! … But no, nothing’s changed. I still think the best word to describe my own sexuality would be ‘bi’.”

Dad: “Wait… [My Name], are you bisexual??”

Me: “Er… Yes?”

(He lowers his head a little, looks at me over the rims of his glasses, and pulls an odd smile before going back to his book. I suppose he was so OK with my preferences that he forgot there was something unusual about them!)