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  • There was this one class at my church (a very, very liberal church- Unitarian Universalist) that I had to take when I was in 7th grade. It was called OWL, standing for Our Whole Lives. Well, I knew what that meant. This was a sex-ed class. I was not interested. However, looking back I can say that this was one of the best classes I ever took, mostly because it allowed me to connect with people, but also because it was informative, and made me think (not just about sex, guys).

    One of the topics was sexual orientation, and we talked about it for a Sunday -going over what everything meant, talking about the why and how's of it- and the next, we had a panel. There was a middle-aged lesbian couple, a young gay man, a straight couple, and a bisexual woman with her children.

    Lesbians had always been these older, boy-ish looking women around church or at the grocery store, they didn't really have much of an affect on me, because I didn't think of them as lesbians. They were just people, people that I generally didn't think a lot about, anyway.

    So they started talking, about how they adopted a kid, and when he grew old enough to learn how to shave, they discovered that they didn't know how, and there was no man around, so they googled it. It was fun, a lighthearted discussion. They just talked. All of them, in a row, one by one. About how they'd always known or when they figured it out. About how they came out and dating experiences they'd had. And I was, for the most part, involved but somewhere else. This didn't really concern me. I was all for gay rights, of course, but I didn't really have that active passion for it. It hadn't really affected my world a whole bunch.

    And then this bisexual woman began to talk. She told us that she married a man, although that didn't make her straight. If she had married a woman, that wouldn't have made her a lesbian. She was just, simply, bisexual. That was all there was to it. She talked about when she first discovered it, but didn't think she was a lesbian because she had a boyfriend that she loved, and while she talked, I went from my own little wherever, to right there and listened. What she was saying made sense, what she said clicked in my head. I understood it, it was obvious this woman knew what she was talking about.

    But that was it. That was the first time I ever remember thinking, huh, maybe I'm not straight..., and that was the last time for a good 2 years.

    But I always remembered that, the very first time I'd ever heard the word "bisexual", and how much it'd meant to me.
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