January 18th 2025.
During my time in school, I always saw myself as a straight person. When I downloaded a dating app and was selecting my sexuality, I was searching for a term that would accurately describe me. At that point in my life, I believed that I was bisexual. I had never been in a relationship with a man, but I did find them attractive and enjoyed kissing them. However, I found that I was more drawn to women, not just as partners, but as people in general.
Despite feeling like bisexual was the only label that fit me, I came across the option to choose "heteroflexible" on the app Feeld. This term is defined as someone who is mostly heterosexual but may sometimes be attracted to people of the same sex. It immediately clicked with me and felt like it accurately mirrored my experiences and feelings. I finally felt seen and understood.
Growing up in Seattle, known for its progressive politics, I still witnessed kids being teased for being gay. I even participated in the teasing, afraid of appearing weak or effeminate if I showed any attraction to the same sex. But during my first two years of university, I became part of a close-knit friend group that experimented with each other sexually. It was through this group that I met Gabriel, who became a close friend of mine.
We bonded over being people of color in a predominantly white school and eventually ended up working at a restaurant together. It was there that we both started dating the same woman, Coraline, who was also a server. We had to be open and honest about our feelings. Eventually, we had a threesome, and it was during this experience that I realized my interest in the same sex. However, I couldn't bring myself to be intimate with Gabriel due to my internalized homophobia.
After this experience, we talked about it casually and there was no awkwardness between us. It wasn't until Gabriel invited me to a Pride parade that I learned he was also bisexual. His coming out made me reflect on my own sexuality, and I felt a bit jealous that he had figured it out before me. Seeing him comfortable with his identity inspired me to delve deeper into my own feelings and accept myself.
Gabriel and I remained friends throughout university, and even moved in together for a year after graduation. We became inseparable and had another threesome with someone we used to date. It was during this time that I developed feelings for him, but unfortunately, they weren't reciprocated. I finally accepted that I couldn't hide behind the label of being straight anymore.
In February 2020, before the pandemic, I met Opal on Tinder. She is bisexual and we have been together for four years now. From the beginning, we have been in a non-monogamous relationship and have had to navigate what that means for both of us. We agreed to always communicate and be open about our feelings for other people.
During our first summer together, I went on a camping trip with Gabriel and our mutual ex, and had a threesome. I hadn't told Opal beforehand and she was understandably hurt. We broke up, but two months later, we got back together with the agreement to always communicate. We have been together ever since and are about to celebrate our fifth anniversary.
Opal and I encourage each other to date other people outside of our relationship, regardless of gender, and always communicate our feelings. We have a mutual understanding that sometimes we may have needs that the other can't fulfill, and that's okay. We always come back to each other for emotional support and traditional partner activities.
I am happy to go by heteroflexible if anyone asks, but as a cis and straight-presenting man in a relationship with a woman, I don't often get questions about my sexuality. Opal and I believe that if there's something we can't do or don't enjoy, it should be okay to seek other partners who can fulfill those needs. We are incredibly happy together, and I know that I would have never embraced my true self if it wasn't for her and our relationship.
I wish I had discovered my true sexuality sooner, but I am grateful to finally feel comfortable in my own skin. Heteroflexible works for me, but it may not be the right label for everyone. What's important is that everyone is able to embrace their true selves and be accepted for who they are. Sexual fluidity exists on a spectrum, and it's important to respect and validate everyone's experiences.
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