Identify Me

By Katie | Sep 19 2012 12:48AM

If you asked one of my friends what some of the things are that characterize me, one of the first things would probably be that I love music. I’m listening to music constantly. Then they’d tell you that I’m generally outgoing and I love forming relationships with people. My close friends might also reveal that I love to write.

Many of my friends would tell you that I love music, but my love of music does not define me. My identity is not rooted in music, nor is my identity rooted in my love of writing. It’s not rooted in the color of my hair or the way I scrunch my face when I’m confused or the laughter that bursts out of me when I’m around people who make me happy.

My identity is not rooted in any of those things. It’s not rooted in my sexuality either.

There’s a question that has begun to bother me more and more lately-

How do you identify?

I’m expected to answer by stating how I identify my sexuality, or how I perhaps choose not to identify it. But there’s always that word linked to it: identity.

I’m not uncomfortable with the word bisexual as a label. Labels don’t bother me personally. I can understand why some people choose not to label themselves, though I accept the use of a label on myself.

I’m totally fine with the word bisexual as a way to define my sexual and romantic attraction for both men and women. However, I’m uncomfortable with the word bisexual as a form of identity.

This concept of identification in the LGBTQ community is something that intrigues me and has also begun to confuse me a little. I’m trying to understand how one aspect of the human experience, sexuality, comes to be the central focus of a person’s identity. I meet people, and one of the first things that they say to define themselves is that they’re gay. Or bi, or lesbian, or asexual. The list goes on.

I identified myself as a bisexual Christian on this blog to give you context about myself and the focus of my writing for this project. But my bisexuality is not typically the first thing that comes to mind when I seek to define myself. I consider it to be one of the many things that make me who I am as a person, but it’s not a central characteristic.

A student at the Pride Alliance office the other day asked me how I identified, if I didn’t mind talking about it. I said, “Sure! I identify as Katie. My favorite color is orange. I love indie music and fall weather and I’m addicted to coffee. Oh, and I’m also bisexual.”

Sexuality as a key factor in identity has become commonplace, which I find so interesting. Over the past couple of years, my bisexuality is something that was heavily linked to my identity simply because of how much it was affecting me. It was a struggle that was on my mind constantly, and so it began to get wrapped up in my identity. But now that I’m a little more settled in my sexuality, it’s not something that I link with my identity firsthand.

I think this is where my faith as a Christian ends up having a big influence. In a culture that emphasizes individuality and self-importance, establishing a firm grasp on your identity becomes paramount. Who you are and how you express yourself become crucial to how you relate to the world around you. There are so many things that I could choose to make a part of my identity, things that would cause me to feel an acute loss or sense of change in myself were they to be altered in my life.

But at the end of the day, there’s really only one thing that is central to my identity. I identify as a child of God, wholly and dearly loved regardless of my imperfections.

That is the basis for how I establish who I am as a person. Everything else, from my love of music to the fact that I’m bisexual, is secondary to that core identification. As a Christian struggling with your sexuality, it’s easy to let that take over until it feels like it defines you entirely.

When people ask me how I reconcile sexuality and Christian faith, this is one of the components that I explain. To me, my faith is reflected in how I live my life. However, my sexuality is only one of a multitude of pieces that shape who I am.

There is so much more to me than my sexuality, so I choose not to make it a primary part of my identity. This is one of the huge aspects that help me to be more at peace with my faith. The more I let my sexuality define my identity, the more it will influence my faith, because my faith and my identity are already so linked.

Even though my bisexuality is not central to my identity, my involvement with the LGBTQ community is central to my life on campus. My internship is going well, though it’s gotten more stressful as more events are rapidly approaching. I’ve been assigned to help plan out a major series of events this fall and I’m working to sort out all the details associated with that. I’m really excited to see how it all plays out, and to see how my life is affected as I continue to showcase my involvement with the LGBTQ community.

 
 
Heart Work
Katie

Hi, I’m Katie.

I grew up in the southwestern United States and am currently in my junior year at a university in the same part of the country.

My sexuality isn’t even something that crossed my mind until I got to college. I attended small schools for my entire childhood, and my high school was predominately a conservative Catholic culture. However, I still enjoyed high school. My graduating class was the anomaly grade, where only fifty percent of the kids were Catholic and we had a more equal distribution of political views. They gave me that initial confidence in myself, but my school as a whole gave me a hetero-normative mindset that carried with me to college.

I was raised Catholic during my childhood, and my family transitioned over to a non-denominational Christian church when I was in my early teens. That was really when I started to deal with my faith and my beliefs for the first time. I began identifying as a Christian during my sophomore year of high school.

So in freshman year of college, when I began to realize that I am also attracted to women, I had absolutely no idea how to handle it. I knew it was something that I hadn’t chosen, and I knew it was something that wouldn’t just disappear, but I had no idea what it meant for my life. I was a dedicated Christian who was now hyperaware of her bisexuality.

I spent most of my freshman year of college pretending that my bisexuality didn’t exist and clinging to my faith-based environment on campus. It wore me down mentally and I found that ignoring my sexuality was doing far more harm to my faith than good. Sophomore year began and I confronted my sexuality head on. I admitted to a few close friends that I am bisexual and began to get involved in LGBTQ events on campus. As a result, the exact opposite of my freshman year happened. I embraced my sexuality and pushed my faith into a corner. I constantly felt disconnected, even though I felt more comfortable with myself than ever.

Now I’m here at my junior year, and I’m starting to feel more at peace. This school year will be my learning experience about how to begin embracing both in my life. I will be heavily involved in an on-campus ministry, while also interning with the LGBTQ organization on campus. I’ll be acting as a sort of bridge between the two communities, trying to break down prejudices and also provide support for LGBTQ Christians.

This blog will be like a journal, a place to share things that I’ve learned and new things that I’m learning every day. If you’re looking for someone to breakdown the Bible and confront biblical principles, you’re in the wrong place. I’ll be addressing some of those things, but only through the context of my own struggles.

Christian faith and acceptance of sexuality are constantly set against each other in our culture, demanding that you choose one over the other.

I’ll be blogging about what my life is like now that I’ve chosen both.

Read More