This my second official coming out. That’s right. I’m not straight. Neither am I “confused." I know what I am.

I am pansexual, which means that I am “not limited in partner choice with regard to biological sex, gender or gender identity." It does not mean I am willing to partner up with everyone and everything. It does not mean I want to have lots of physical contacts. You will find I am paraphrasing a lot here because I am limited in language choice here. I can adhere to that.

The sad fact is that even in the LGBT+ community, my identity is forcefully erased. That means that the “gays” and “lesbians” are willing to ignore people who want to partner up with other genders than just their own. Bisexuality is still fighting for an inch in that biased community alone because people think that they are just “confused” or “experimenting” or that they’ve chosen their sexuality based on their current partner.

These are the same misconceptions about pansexuality, which is all but ignored by the so-called “open and inviting” LGBTQ+ community. Some think it’s the same as bisexuality, because there are only two genders, that it’s just a fashionable word (because it wasn’t really a thing until like five years ago). Yes, the T in LGBTQ stands for Trans, but like I said, I have my issues with the community I am a member of.

There’s darkness behind the rainbow.

I wanted to address that, yes, this was written in response to the events on June 12, 2016. I am talking about America’s worst mass shooting, which left 49 people dead (I am not counting the shooter) and 53 people injured. The gunman entered Orlando’s largest gay club, Pulse, on latinx night, and opened fire. This was an act of terrorism and a hate crime.

I wanted to chronicle my own story of self-discovery. It started in the 10th grade. I was attending a small high school in the south. This could have gone a lot worse.

I had a best friend at the time. It began at our study hall, a short half hour break that was typically spent in the cafeteria. It was just like any day in high school, a.k.a. hell thinly disguised as purgatory. We (myself, her and some of her friends) were just leaving the cafeteria, as we waited to be dismissed back to class. We chilled in the bathroom. I wasn’t really paying attention, because they were talking about boys, and I was out of the dating circle.

It was like something out of a movie. A good chunk of the school was released from the cafeteria to return to class. They were bottlenecking down the hallway, where we were half-standing. My friend turned to me suddenly, after a heated argument with one of her other friends. I looked back to her, expecting the problem to be dropped into my lap. I didn’t expect what she did next, which was to suddenly press her lips to mine and kiss me.

I froze, a chill running to my core. She grabbed me and we ducked into the bathroom. She was laughing, and I was trying to reboot my systems. I can’t remember much of the rest of the day, but I did spend the next few days vehemently denying everything that was asked of me. This was 2012–2013, and I was scared. I had already heard about what had happened to some gay kids. I wasn’t really thinking about my sexuality at the time. I just knew I had only “dated” guys.

But my thoughts began to shift. I realized I might be a lesbian. It wasn’t a strange concept. I knew about the LGBTQ. My godfather is a gay man. I remember my parents explaining why he had a male partner instead of a wife. I was just like “Oh, OK.” and went back to playing with his dog. Because kids are taught to hate, they aren’t born with it. I was going through a rough anti-man patch. The boys at my school were all immature idiots or a little too old for me. The girls on the other hand — hey, who hasn’t had a crush?

Than I discovered bisexuality, probably on Tumblr. I realized I still had crushes on male actors. I decided I was most likely bi. I told absolutely no one of this. I don’t know why I kept it hidden for so long. I mean, my parents had gay friends.

Eventually, Tumblr discovered a new word and ran with it, dodging the antis with pro skills. Pansexual. I didn’t think much of it. I got confused, thinking it was a fancy word for bisexual. I was confused by this whole transexual thing to. Then I read broken-down definitions of the two terms. I began to realize something about myself. I realized I might be pan, and I embraced that.

I almost came out to my parents by accident. It was at a school tour for UNCW. We were exploring the clubs, and I became attached to the LGBTQ Club. I asked a lot of questions. Then my eyes were drawn to the free pins, particularly one. It was a metal button, with a stylish black P set on the pink, yellow and blue pin flag. I picked it up and tried to pocket it discreetly, and we moved on. My dad questioned me in the car, and I panicked. I sort of admitted to being curious, maybe, and tried to change the subject to anything but.

Coming Out Day last year was Oct. 11. I let it come and pass, showing support for my friends on social media. And then it just happened. I was (very loudly and I apologize) singing, “Girls/Girls/Boys” by Panic! At the Disco in my dorm room at Peace. I sang the chorus loud and proud as I wandered out to heat up something in the dorm kitchen. I passed the open door of my suitemates, still singing, and then pointed at myself before going to pop some buttered corn.

I got back to my room, and posted the YouTube link to Facebook. My parents were following, and I was aware of this. I announced that I was a little late for Coming Out Day (it was Nov. 15, thanks to Facebook activity) and told my followers that I was pansexual aromantic (which means that I don’t want romance). I’m more demiromantic now, which means I only experience romantic attraction after developing an emotional connection. That might just be a Tumblr thing, though.

I’m out, and I’m proud.