As I lay here listening to a Pride playlist, I wish I could say I was one of those that arrived straight at the conclusion that is my queer journey.
It has been and still is a journey of learning, unlearning and relearning. A journey that makes reliance on Google maps when you have bad network, on a route you arenʼt familiar with, look like childʼs play.
I was 3 when I knew I was queer. But as many of us know, knowing isnʼt the same thing as accepting and Nigeria definitely doesnʼt make it easier. Iʼm also a terrible liar. What this means is that for a long time, I didnʼt sleep easy knowing I was lying to myself that I wasnʼt queer. I didnʼt have anybody to talk to about how I felt, and my first adult attempt at exploring my sexuality ended with me being Kitoed in Ikotun at 12a.m.
My friend who came to my rescue that night assumed I came to do runz in Lagos, all the way from Osun state where my school at the time was. It seemed easier to just let him go along with that assumption than to confront what made me think I could talk to, date and discover myself through a stranger I met on Badoo.
But as I have come to discover, acceptance of oneself is part of the queer journey and there are many firsts. For me, it has been how I felt seen a few months ago when someone trolling me called me ‘a bloody lesbianʼ, and it didnʼt seem like a bad word. It is the relief that came from the non-existent drama when I came out to a few of my friends and siblings. It is also the time I told my mum not to expect grandkids from me.
I guess the point Iʼm trying to make is: acceptance can wear many faces, many hats. I am a 24 year old bisexual woman (yes, I said that aloud as I typed it). Most times, we think we know who we are, who we are meant to be, what we want but the truth is we are evolving. Living your truth is never comfortable, but Iʼll take the discomfort as long as I can sleep well at night.
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