Queer Identity and the Quest for Liberation

When I was 10, I asked him if he wanted to be my boyfriend. He was the only boy in my class, making the choice quite easy.

A few weeks before, my sister had asked me if I was in love or if there was a boy I liked. I pondered deeply about what it meant to be in love. My favourite person was my female best friend, who felt the closest I would get to love, aside from the love for my parents. But I figured I was now old enough to have a crush on a boy. I only needed to choose one. 

The boys in school didn’t appeal to me; they were annoying, loud, and mean. However, Alex was different; he was kind. Although he sometimes ignored me when hanging out with the other boys, likely embarrassed to befriend a girl. Most of the boys accepted me into their circle because I wasn’t like the other girls. As a nonbinary kid who wore boys’ clothes and outran them, I had earned their respect. 

Another girl in my class, Hannah, conformed more to her gender stereotype, presenting more femininely. Yet, she occasionally played football, earning the boys’ respect. Fast forward to the moment Hannah and I asked Alex to choose his girlfriend. I was confident he would pick me, given our common interests and closer friendship. I felt a twinge of sympathy for Hannah and had even prepared comforting words for her expected rejection. Alex waited by the bicycles at our school. Hannah went first to receive her answer, then it was my turn. I approached him confidently, smiling broadly, only to be rejected. I was furious. What was he thinking?

Fast forward again to my 18-year-old self, having dated many men but never seriously, never felt excitement or pleasure. Why? I didn’t know back then. Each rejection left me devastated, not because the men mattered, but because their desire for me did. It was a recurring theme in my life, the narrative of needing male validation.

Years later, I felt liberated from this curse, finally following my instincts and heart. A woman’s kiss made everything click. Was this my queer fairy tale awakening? The feelings I had longed for—comfort, safety, arousal—were finally real. I clung to them, not wanting them to fade. After a six-year lesbian relationship, I occasionally wonder if I still want to date men, despite feeling no attraction. It seems to stem from the same need for validation I felt as a child on the playground with Alex. 

During my youth, I forced myself into unwanted encounters, seeking male validation to be seen as a proper woman. In that sense, identifying as nonbinary has been liberating, as I feel less of a need to fit into a gender role and expectation.