Lights, Camera, Bisexual
While I’ve known I was bisexual for several years, I only came out this year at 29 (a week and a half after my birthday!) in one big swoop after telling a close friend at a bar and then my incredibly supportive boyfriend. Apparently, this was not news to anyone I told. Everyone’s responses were some form of “yeah, we know,” which on one hand was a relief, but on the other hand I felt like I had been starting over in a world that everyone else knew except for me.
One of the things I struggled with before coming out was trying to figure out if my feelings were real. As an actor, I’ve been cast on major series (TV and Digital) where I play gay and bisexual a LOT, and one of my more prominent roles was a series I was on for three years where the major character arc for my role was her coming out story. I was terrified I was going to screw it up and not be authentic and real to our amazing fan base, which many of our viewers were also exploring their sexual and gender identities around the same time and it was important to me that their story was being told the RIGHT way.
As an actor, you are a vessel for the writer and the character, and I felt incredibly nervous that even with all my research and interviews with friends who were coming out or were already out, I was still fearful I wouldn’t get it right. One of the things I now realize was that a lot of my fears were because I was realizing I was bisexual and I wasn’t ready to be out myself, and here I was handed one of the biggest responsibilities of my career to portray someone who was trying to come out. Between being in the closet and being immersed in characters who were LGBTQ+, my brain became one of the most confusing places. “Am I really attracted to her or are these feelings I residually have from work today?” “I’m hooking up with this guy now but also she’s super cute over there on the treadmill.” “Oh wow, BOTH of these people are super attractive in the waiting room, Kylie focus on your sides you have an audition right now.” Even when I started writing my first screenplay, I made the lead character identify as queer. Clearly, my art was imitating my incredibly closeted life.
I fell in love earlier this year with the most incredible man after a string of hookups with men and women, and though I was taking baby steps to tell people “oh yeah, I’ve made out with girls, everyone does it right?!” or “yeah I think sexuality is fluid, you can’t help who you’re attracted to,” I never felt SAFE confiding in people that I was attracted to more than one gender (which, I have no idea why, I have the most supportive family and friends on the planet). My boyfriend has been one of my closest and best friends for a year and a half and when we started dating, it was fast and furious because we were already super intimate and trusted each other with the deep stuff. One night after watching a movie, we were talking about “The List,” aka the celebrities we were incredibly attracted to, and I started rattling off, in a stream of consciousness, men and women. He sat there and nodded, and I finally just said, “By the way, I’m bisexual, did you know that?” and his response was “Babe, yeah. I’ve known that for a while” and then asked if I wanted to grab something to eat. That was really the first time I had said the words “I’m bisexual,” and with him just saying essentially “yep, anyway are you hungry?” I realized it was time to start over and own my sexuality.
Being in a relationship with a man never made me feel like I needed to come out, but feeling safe in saying words I had never said out loud to someone I was in love with and sleeping with made me realize I needed to start being unapologetically myself in ALL areas of my life.
