Are you ready to be seen?

When we go through significant change in our lives - whether it's change we've chosen or change life throws at us - we often end up revealing more of ourselves to the people we care about, and shedding some of the layers of assumptions or masks that we're wearing, to reveal more about who we really are.

Recently, I’ve opened up about certain aspects of myself which I haven’t been so transparent about in the past, such as my spirituality and also my mental health. In this blog, I’d like to share another part of myself: my sexuality. Even though it’s a core part of my identity, I’m actually not super comfortable talking about it, but that’s hopefully about to change (at least I’m working on changing it!).

June was Pride Month, which is something I’ve found really challenging in the past because it always brought home how far out of integrity I was living. Even though I’ve known I was bisexual for about 20 years and have been open about that with some of the people close to me, I hadn't been open and honest with everyone around me. It was only after I came out to my daughter last year (a heartfelt thank you to her for her unwavering support and acceptance) that I felt able to fully step into participating in the Pride celebrations, so this year has been a milestone for me.

But that's not why I'm sharing it here. I'm sharing it because it’s made me realise how important it is for all of us to recognise where we’re holding back in our lives, and where we’re not able to be fully ourselves.

I’ve come to realise that I need to be more visible - not just in my personal life but in my professional world as well. I know that as a bi woman in business, I'm really very fortunate: I have the support of my friends and family, not to mention the fact that I live in a country where diversity is generally accepted, so there’s no risk of losing my job, house, or worse. We still have work to do to create true equality and I’m safe-enough.

So, although it's pretty scary for me to share this aspect of myself with the world, (because, like almost everyone else, I fear rejection and judgement), I also know that I'm actually pretty safe. There are still so many people around the world who are LGBTQI+ but can't be themselves or even acknowledge who they are, because the potential consequences are so huge. Even though it’s nerve-racking for me to make this public declaration and say, “this is who I am”, I no longer feel like it's an option, because I have a platform and I need to use it.

We don't always fully embrace diversity: there is still a huge amount of invisibility, particularly for people who are bisexual. If I were to ask you whether you know anyone who is bi, you may be able to name one or two friends or acquaintances. And yet the numbers are massive: in fact, statistics show that a staggering 3.2% of the UK population identifies as lesbian, gay or bisexual. Which means that around 1.6% of the population is bi (that’s over a million people in the UK alone). But only 28% of bi women are actually out to those closest to them, let alone to people in a work context or in a wider social setting. So, if you’re young and bi, it’s pretty difficult to find positive role models.

When I was growing up, there was no talk of diversity in terms of sexuality or sexual orientation. I knew what it meant to be gay because my uncle is gay, but I didn't know being bi was even a thing - there was zero visibility. Although we're now at a point where conceptually it is visible, the reality hasn’t quite caught up. I want to be part of changing that, so I'm willing to face into the fear, discomfort and uncertainty which comes with it.

If I don't tell you I'm bi, you're not going to know. You're more likely to assume - because I've been married and in a long-term heterosexual relationship, and I have a daughter - that I'm straight. And if I suddenly introduce a girlfriend, you’ll probably assume that I'm a lesbian. So for me to live in integrity, I have to tell you who I am. Of course, I run the risk of inviting stereotypes and prejudices and misconceptions about what it means to be bi, but what it means for me is this: it doesn't mean I'm attracted to everybody. And it doesn't mean that I’m unable to be in a committed monogamous relationship - far from it. It simply means that I'm attracted to someone as a human being, regardless of their gender.

I know that being “out” brings with it a lot of prejudice and assumptions. That's not okay, but the only way that's going to change is by being more visible.

2023 will always be the year that I first went to Pride, when I put on my rainbow dress and stepped out into the light to be openly, visibly, wholly me, for the first time. It was an incredibly intense experience and one that, in many ways, I’m still processing. I’m grateful to have been there, and so proud that I had the courage to do it, but I know this isn’t just about me. I want us all to get to a place where it's okay to just be who we are, to show up fully and let our true selves be seen, without worrying about upsetting other people or wanting to fit in.

If you feel ready to be who you really are - in your heart of hearts - then why not ask yourself what aspect of you is ready to be seen, what part of you is impatient to show up, so you can be the fullest version of yourself?

Start small, by talking to the people who have earned the right to hear your story, because you’ll need their support along the way. I’m lucky to have my team, my therapist, my family and friends behind me. I didn’t start with a giant leap: I’m taking my journey one small step at a time.