Coming out of the closet was all I needed to live and enjoy life in the same way as those who don't feel the need to disclose their sexual orientation. My name is Fabián, I'm 33 years old, Colombian, and I take pride in being bisexual. This is my story.
Since my childhood, I was aware that something in me was different from other kids, a difference noticed by family, teachers, and friends. Often, my parents heard comments about my upbringing, my lack of masculine behavior, and my inclination towards the artistic rather than the athletic. This conflict between social expectations and my true self forced me to create a false personality, expressing things that didn't reflect my true feelings or thoughts.
At the age of 8, I knew I liked men, but I decided to hide that part of me to fit into my family, school, and other social environments. However, suppressing myself wasn't enough, as I continued to receive comments, some offensive and others not, about how I spoke, behaved, played, and who I associated with. I appreciate that these comments never came from my family, although I'm sure my parents received them on my behalf.
I spent my adolescence feeling unique in the world with this difference, believing that something in me wasn't functioning correctly. I asked God many times why I was different? Why did I like men? This denial prevented me from enjoying my adolescence authentically and living it with a complete sense of self. It wasn't until I was 18 that I had my first girlfriend, and the comments, teasing, and abuse stopped. Although I was happy with her, I still felt something was missing and envied seeing a male couple, wishing to live that way.
In college, at the age of 20, I managed to accept myself as a diverse person thanks to the support of two friends. I believe the first step toward happiness is accepting and loving oneself as different, and the second is accepting oneself in front of others. First, I told my college friends that I also liked men, and then other friends found out. In this process, I lost some friendships, but I understood that it was the best thing that could have happened. Who wants to be surrounded by someone who doesn't respect, accept, or love you as much as you do yourself?
During college, I had my first boyfriend, with whom I had a three-year relationship in secret from many people, including our families. Once my relationship ended, I told my parents and brother that I not only dated girls but also boys. To my surprise, their response was a hug and an "I love you." I was prepared to lose them in case of a negative reaction, but again, who wants to be surrounded by people who don't respect or accept you? Since then, I feel I can live my life being 100% myself, and life feels different.
I'm fortunate to have grandparents, uncles, and cousins who understood and accepted me as I am. They were so loving that they performed a ritual to bless the union between my husband and I at our wedding. My father's words during the ceremony were, "We went from being a family of traditional descendance to being a diverse family. We love you."
Today, I participate in LGBTQ+ pride marches and campaigns because I want to convey the message to children, teenagers, and adults who are experiencing what I went through in the past: you are not alone. Each person has their own process of acceptance and love, and, most importantly, being diverse is just a part of you that doesn't define you as a person. I realized I am the result of many other parts; besides being diverse, I am a husband, brother, son, engineer, extroverted, sociable, intelligent, a leader, participant, among many other things that could describe me.
It has been a joy and pride to find a place at Centennial College where there are spaces for everyone. Here, there is an interest in preserving an environment of respect for diverse love, as important as respect for a variety of customs and multiculturalism.