Unfortunately, most of the biphobia and bi-erasure that I have witnessed has come from within the LGBTQIA+ community itself. The rhetoric that surrounding bisexuality can sometimes create pressure for bisexual people to “prove themselves”. To prove that they’re actually attracted to multiple genders, to prove that they’re not “greedy and indecisive”, to prove that they aren’t “attention-seeking” and unable to “pick a side”.

For me, these assumptions left me with an internal struggle, feeling stuck between hiding my sexuality or subscribing to stereotypes to prove that my identity was legitimate.

I remember recently listening to a renowned and respected lesbian podcaster as she joked with an interviewee that her male bisexual friend was basically just gay, right?

As I listened to her toying with the idea that bisexual people don’t exist, that all bisexuals are secretly just lesbians or gays in hiding, I realised that it was this kind of casual bi-erasure that sustains the way we think about bisexuality. Whether intended or not, these biphobic “jokes” can entrench the idea that bisexuality is a myth.

This is why representation and inclusive allyship is so important. Feeling like I had to keep explaining my sexuality, or hide parts of it that weren’t idealised, became exhausting. My community was supposed to be my safe place, but the comments, jokes and jibes sent the message that my feelings aren’t real, my experiences aren’t real, my love and my pain and my existence… all not real. Dating someone of the same gender does not make me gay and dating someone of the opposite does not make me straight. As Heartstopper’s Kit Connor so earnestly declared: “I’m bi, actually.”

If there’s anything I am remembering during Bisexual Awareness Week, it’s this: There is no one way to be bisexual.

We don’t have to look a certain way, appeal to stereotypes or have a whole load of experience to know exactly who we are. I now volunteer for a charity called Just Like Us, and being around so many other LGBTQIA+ young people has helped me eliminate some of the shame I was feeling and provided a space for folks of all queer identities to feel safe and accepted.

Finally, I realised I didn’t owe my queerness to anyone. I know that I am bisexual, and that I am enough exactly as I am.

Alice is ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBTQIA+ young people’s charity. LGBTQIA+ and 18-25? Sign up now!