Tessa Berger: No one can take my sexuality away from me any more
I’d never questioned my sexuality until I met her. We were inexplicably drawn to one another. It was platonic at first, an innocent kind of adoration that soon developed into a deep friendship. But with every new day came the daunting realisation that it was never going to be enough. We fought how we felt at every turn, I tried to tell myself that it would fade, but we loved each other seemingly without reason.
I still remember where I was, the moment I knew that everything was about to change. A vivid memory that still looms large in my mind, not solely because it was the closest I’ve come to running my car off of the road, but because with that flash of consciousness, I irrevocably gave in to fate.
From that day onward, we began creating a life for ourselves in secret. It was a first for us both, that materialised at a far less accepting time, so naturally, we had a shared fear of being judged. Truth be told, as two femme women who’d previously only ever dated men, what pained me more than anything was the thought of our love being questioned. Bi-erasure, Google it.
So, we created a public facade, portraying one version of our relationship to the outside world, all the while masking our reality. As fiercely private people we’d near convinced ourselves that we were just honouring that right, but when you’re actively choosing to not live your life openly, with at a minimum those closest to you, you’re not private, you’re hiding.
I was content with that, with having just her, but as the years passed, I couldn’t continue disregarding the ever-growing feeling that I needed more. I’d long since stopped caring how others might perceive us or if they deemed our love invalid, but despite everything, we could never quite meet in that same place. Witnessing the person who has your heart, inadvertently hold a sense of shame for the truest thing you’ve ever known, takes something from you that you can never quite get back. In the end, the very thing that we originally sought to aid in the protection of our relationship, unmasked the truth behind its undoing.
I’d resided myself to the fact that I’d carry that love with me to the grave to shield her, outwardly suppressing my sexuality to safeguard her anonymity. So, I kept a respectable distance between myself and the queer community, only publicly acknowledging my place in it late last year. Honestly, I hadn’t intended to at the time, but I was triggered.
A prominent sporting figure decided to make homophobic remarks, proudly denouncing the LGBTQ+ community. My response was to do the only thing I could at that moment, use my platform to condemn his comments loudly. What I didn’t anticipate was the overwhelming response that I’d personally receive. I was utterly taken aback by the kindness I was shown and the courage of those who reached out to share their stories with me. It was the first time I really took stock of the importance of storytelling and how it relates to representation.
With all that this past year has given us, one thing I’ll forever be grateful for is the time it’s afforded me to stop and take an honest, introspective look at who I am. In pausing to sit with myself, I was met with a profound sense of knowing; the recognition that this was so much bigger than me. A self-revelation I wouldn’t ignore, I came to accept that it wasn’t going to be enough to be open with how I identified merely
The glaring reality I had to face in speaking my truth, was acknowledging that I’d been emotionally entrapped in a sort of mental cage for the better part of my adult life. I wasn’t going to kid myself into thinking that breaking free from such a weighted bond of silence was going to happen overnight. So, I gave myself the grace to discern how I could best translate my experience, all with the hope of pushing the needle a little further forward.
I may still be learning about this community and how I fit, but if I’m confident of one thing, it’s that I want to own my place in it, to be visible. However terrifying it is in sharing my story, I’m finally claiming my space.
Words — Tessa Berger
