I had known I was bisexual since I was about ten. I had always thought women were beautiful, yet I did not feel any different towards men. I hadn't really noticed how much I enjoyed the look of men until I was about nine, and the more I thought about it, the more similar my feelings towards boys and girls appeared. Some might say ten is too young to know; but I knew.

I couldn't have ever come out at my old school. They were savages there; I would have been torn to pieces. When I moved school and found how accepting the students were, I was overjoyed! I knew I could admit who I really was, that I could end the lie. Yet I was apprehensive. No one I knew of at the school was openly LGBT, so I couldn't be sure of the true reaction. It was halfway through year 8 when I had had enough.

Claire was my girlfriend at the time, and I was head over heels. I always thought we would be together forever, and eventually we would be married and have kids and everything would be perfect. I adored her and I truly thought she understood me and would accept my true sexuality. I hate how naive I was. I invited her to my house and sat her down.
"There's something I wanted to tell you, and I hope you'll understand."
"Joel what's wrong?" I can recall vividly how longingly she looked into my eyes. I loved her, I really did.
"I'm bisexual." The feeling was amazing! I had told someone! I had said it! The pent up emotions that had tossed and turned in my mind for three years were out and I was free! It was the best moment of my life.

But it was only a moment.

Claire was shaking her head in disbelief and confusion. She looked angry and I could see her eyes filling up.
"I- What?! What does that even mean?!" She screamed, hitting my arm. I was shocked. All the times I had imagined this moment in my head, this reaction had never crossed my mind.
"I- I like girls... And boys." I stuttered.
"And boys?! You're gay!"
Now I was mad.
"I am NOT gay! Don't you dare say that Claire! Why are you overreacting?"
"Overreacting?! You're saying I turned you gay!"
Rage bubbled up inside me. She was spitting every stereotype and misconception I had ever struggled with in my face.
"I'm not gay! Do you realise how closed minded you're being? I poured my heart out to you and you're stabbing me in the heart. Do you realise how much I've struggled with this? I thought you would understand!"
She stood up and shouted down to me.
"Oh, I understand clear as day, gay boy!"
That was the final straw.
"Get out of my house!" I screamed.
"You can't-"
"Get OUT!"
And with that she was gone.

It was a Friday and I spent the next three days drowning in my tears. My parents knew then that something was wrong and I had to come out to them. They were surprised, but they understood. Despite this, I remained in my room until Monday. It was the Monday morning when I truly realised how much I had underestimated Claire.

She had told everyone. At least, she told everyone what she thought. A crowd greeted me at the school gates, chanting obscenities and slurs. I was tripped up continuously, then spat on as I lay helpless on the ground. "Gay boy" was plastered all over my locker, which had had the lock smashed and no longer held my PE kit or three of my exercise books. No one spoke to me other than to insult me or scream stereotypes in my face. I was alone.

Sam was the first to come round. Of course, being her brother, Claire had told him first. He swore to me that he didn't care, but for the first few days he went with the crowd to save his own skin. He stood by me when times got really tough and I forever am in debt to him because of that. By the Wednesday he was totally on my side, and was prepared to be socially exiled to remain my friend.

A few corrections and stern assemblies later, the abuse began to patter out and many of my friends had returned to my side, but school life would never be what it was. Several people still insulted me and refused to talk to me, but I had grown tougher over time. Claire had not only caused me serious harassment, but took away my chance to properly come out to my peers. That's an opportunity I'll never get back, and I hated her for it.

At this point, it had been some time since it was last mentioned, so when she brought it up, still having not learned that I was in fact not gay, I was quite surprised.
"Why can't you understand it?" I begged. "I'm not gay!"
"You're half gay."
"Why do you refuse to learn? Being bisexual is not being gay! In the same way that being straight isn't being bisexual!"
"That's because straight people aren't gay."
"I'm not gay!"
It was exasperating.
"Listen Claire, okay? I don't like you and you don't like me, but we live in the real world. We have to just learn to live with each other. It's been a year now, and I've learned to live with it. Why can't you?"
For a moment she was silent. She looked up at me, inspecting every inch of my face. I remained still.
"Are you going to tell her?"
"Why do you care?"
"She needs to know you're g-," she sighed. "Bisexual."
"Well I'll tell her when I want to."
"You-"
"You," I interrupted. "Are going to keep your mouth shut."
And I left.