Pansexuality, or Whatever

By Sophia Romano

I,like many other non-heterosexuals, always knew. There’s no describing how you just know the inner-workings of your attractions, romantic and sexual, are not the same as the conventional examples set before you. Yet while I knew what I wasn’t, I didn’t know what I was. 

I remember once thinking-out-loud to a friend in middle school during art class. We’re printmaking self-portraits of little animals, mine was a very sweet squirrel, and I told my friend that I knew I wasn’t plain-and-simple straight. She, also twelve years old, told me I was too young to know. That was the last time I ever willingly shared information about my sexuality while in my hometown. While the automation in her response made it clear that she was barking whatever response she was given about sexuality, her response echoed the general belief of the environment I was growing up in. Her tone gave the message less of a, “You’ll explore and define yourself with time!” but more of a, “Don’t make early declarations that’ll ostracize you later.” 

And indeed ostracized were the kids that did express their sexuality from a young age in my hometown. “Gay” or “lesbian,” the only other choices besides “straight,” were the defining and overarching labels to the ones sure of their sexuality and unafraid to show it. How ridiculous! I couldn’t stand being boiled down to a single label. I still can’t.

Not only did I rarely share my undetermined sexual orientation because of such reductions, but because I really didn’t care about attaching a definite label to what it is I feel. I didn’t come out to my parents until a little over a year ago (not that they needed such an announcement, I’m told…) because the act of coming out seemed unnecessary when straight people didn’t have to do the same. I didn’t want to be categorized, least of all for the attraction I feel for others. What’s more, I didn’t view my sexuality in a, “I like you because you’re a girl,” or “I like you because you’re a boy,” or even in a “I like you because you’re neither of those” way. I liked who I liked because they were themselves! I soon realized that I was attracted to just people—what they were interested in, who they wanted to become, how they talked and laughed—regardless of what gender they identified with, if one at all. This realization quickly led to the realization that people loooooove making jokes about goddamn pans.

This reference will be hard to swallow, but please bear with me: In the year 2000, Samantha in Sex and the City, Season 2 Episode 16 made a prediction that I can’t get over. “The new millennium won’t be about sexual labels,” she declares. “It’ll be about sexual expression. It won’t matter if you’re sleeping with men or women. It’ll be about sleeping with individuals… Soon, everyone will be pansexual.” 

We must rid ourselves of constraining labels that put you in one box or another, and yes, I totally mean that in the hippie share-all-the-free-love way! Like what you like, no title needed. When asked, ‘pansexual’ is my answer the same way you throw on a shirt because a shirt is a shirt and it's illegal to have your bare tits fly free. But sooner or later, we’ll all stop caring.