I’m Abrosexual – It Took Me 30 Years to Realise

Understanding Abrosexuality: A Personal Journey When I first came out as abrosexual to a close friend in 2020, the response was far from supportive. “When did you decide this? Is this even a label – I’ve never heard of it. I support you, obviously, but this doesn’t sound real.” These words stung more than I […]

Understanding Abrosexuality: A Personal Journey

When I first came out as abrosexual to a close friend in 2020, the response was far from supportive. “When did you decide this? Is this even a label – I’ve never heard of it. I support you, obviously, but this doesn’t sound real.” These words stung more than I expected. The friend and I are no longer close, and their dismissive tone left me feeling unheard and misunderstood.

For those unfamiliar with the term, abrosexuality refers to a sexual identity that fluctuates and changes over time. It’s not about being indecisive or confused, but rather about experiencing shifts in how one identifies sexually. For me, this meant feeling like a lesbian one day and more aligned with bisexuality the next. My sexuality was fluid, and I struggled to find the right words to explain it to others.

Growing up in the 1990s, the only labels I knew were straight, gay, or lesbian. Anything else seemed made up. It wasn’t until two years ago, when I was 30, that I learned about abrosexuality. Before that, I felt lost, like I was adrift at sea. I often questioned myself, wondering if I was being dishonest or if there was something wrong with me. Without a name for my experience, I felt like a fraud.

It was through the work of Zoe Stoller, an educator and social worker based in the US, that I first encountered the term. Her Instagram page, which focuses on increasing visibility for the LGBTQ+ community, was a revelation. Reading her post felt like a lightbulb moment — finally, I had a word that described my identity. It was a turning point that helped me feel seen and understood.

While discovering abrosexuality has been incredibly beneficial for my self-understanding, it hasn’t always been met with acceptance. When I share my identity with others, I often receive blank stares followed by questions about what the term means. Questions are fine, as long as they’re respectful. I don’t expect everyone to know everything, but I do hope people approach these conversations with openness and curiosity.

The majority of my friends and family have been very supportive. They’ve shown a willingness to learn and understand. One question I’m frequently asked is how being abrosexual affects my love life. In short, it doesn’t. Just like bisexuality doesn’t change how someone feels about their partner, abrosexuality doesn’t alter the way I love someone. I love the person, not their gender. My identity may shift, but that doesn’t change the depth of my relationships.

However, not everyone is as understanding. Some people insist I “pick a lane” so my identity doesn’t challenge their beliefs. This kind of pressure is exhausting. I want people to know that just because they don’t understand an identity doesn’t make it any less valid. Everyone deserves the freedom to explore and define their own identity without judgment.

There are still moments when I hear hurtful comments, like “mate, you’re just confused” or “just say you’re bisexual and be done with it.” These remarks can be discouraging, but I refuse to let them define me. We’re all learning and growing, and that’s part of the human experience. Embracing new knowledge and perspectives helps us evolve.

I hope that one day, abrosexuality will be seen as normal — just another identity that someone might have. I also hope it’s not viewed as a trend or a passing fad. Acceptance comes from education and a willingness to step outside our comfort zones. There is a wealth of LGBTQ+ knowledge online that can help broaden our understanding and reduce ignorance.

Without people like Zoe Stoller, I would still be in the dark about my sexuality. I wouldn’t have the language to describe my experience or the confidence to embrace who I am. Being closed off from parts of myself is a painful experience, and I’m grateful to have found a sense of clarity and peace.

Before coming out as abrosexual, I felt restricted, unable to fully express myself. Now that I understand my identity, I can put a name to my experience and look forward to seeing how my fluidity continues to unfold. I’m no longer nervous about my sexuality because it makes sense to me, and that’s what truly matters.

If you have a story you’d like to share, consider reaching out to contribute your voice to the conversation. Your perspective could help someone else feel seen and understood.