What is abrosexual? It took this author 30 years to realize

“When did you decide that? Is that even a label? I’ve never heard of it. I support you, of course, but that doesn’t sound real.”

These are just some of the words I was greeted with when I came out as abrosexual to a close friend in 2020.

Needless to say, we are no longer friends.

For those of you who don’t know what abrosexuality is, in layman’s terms, it simply means that a person’s sexual identity fluctuates and changes.

I read the text over and over again, and the rejection of their message struck me more deeply each time. Here I was sharing my identity with someone I trusted, only to have them scoff at my words.

While the easy defense is that you can’t judge a person’s tone from a text message, I think it’s clear that the sentiment was anything but supportive. It was judgmental and immediately raised doubts.

Unfortunately, this person is not the only one who has expressed their opinion about my abrosexuality – and I doubt it will be the last.

Growing up, I had never heard the term “abrosexual” – in the society of the 1990s, you were either straight, gay or lesbian. Everything else was made up.

Of course, we know that this is far from the truth – but societal blind spots mean that we learn concepts much more slowly than if they were easily accessible.

Often people don’t try to learn about other orientations unless they are directly affected by them. Without that incentive, in my experience, many stick with what they already know.

I only found out about abrosexuality two years ago, when I was 30. Up until that point, I had difficulty identifying my sexuality because it fluctuated so quickly.

There were times when I, too, scoffed and berated myself for being so unsure of who I was. It wasn’t that I couldn’t decide, it was that my identity was changing.

One day I felt like a lesbian, but days or weeks later I felt more like bisexual. My sexuality was fluid.

Before learning about abrosexuality, I felt lost, like I was at sea. I also felt like an imposter because I changed my identity so often when talking to my loved ones.

No one was intentionally hurtful, but every now and then I would hear the phrase, “But you just said last week that you’re a lesbian.” They didn’t understand, and I didn’t have the right words to explain myself at the time.

It wasn’t until I read the Instagram page of Zoe Stoller, a US-based creative, educator and social worker who advocates for greater visibility of the LGBTQ+ community, that I first came across the term abrosexuality.

You know that feeling in cartoons when a lightbulb appears above their heads? That’s how it felt when I read your post.

I finally feel seen.

Although discovering a new term has been tremendously helpful in helping me understand myself better, my identity causes confusion for some people.

When I tell people that I am abrosexual, I often get a blank smile and then am asked what the term means.

And questions are fine, as long as they’re respectful. I don’t expect everyone to know what it means – hell, I didn’t either until two years ago – but you should always listen respectfully.

I am happy to say that the rest of my friends and family have been very supportive of my identity and eager to learn more.

One question I’ve been asked is about the impact my abrosexuality has on my love life. In short, it doesn’t.

It doesn’t change my romantic relationships, just like being bisexual doesn’t make a person think differently about their partner. I love the person, not their gender, so it doesn’t matter if my sexuality fluctuates while I’m with them.

But even when I explain this, there are still people who like to demand that I “pick a lane” so that my identity doesn’t offend them. I want people to know that just because you don’t know or understand an identity doesn’t make it any less authentic.

But it’s still hard to hear things like, “Dude, you’re just confused” or “Just say you’re bisexual and leave it at that.”

I don’t let myself be limited by the limited knowledge of others.

We are all constantly learning new things about ourselves – that’s what growth and development is all about.

I hope that at some point abrosexuality will be seen as normal, as another identity someone can have, and not a way to be “trendy” as some of the hurtful comments I’ve received suggest.

Acceptance can only come through education and by stepping out of your comfort zone and familiarizing yourself with terminology you may not be familiar with.

There is a wealth of knowledge online about LGBTQ+ issues that people would benefit from knowing so that ignorance does not become the primary language that so many of us speak.

Without people like Stoller, I would still be in the dark about my sexuality. I would know that it is constantly changing, but I wouldn’t know why or what that means for my authenticity. I would be afraid that I’m an imposter or that there’s something wrong with me. Closing yourself off from yourself is a horrible experience.

I wish I knew why my boyfriend reacted so hurtfully to my identity.

Before I came out as abrosexual, I felt limited and unable to be myself because I didn’t know how to accept the parts of myself that I didn’t understand.

Now that I know, I can give my identity a name and am excited to see how this fluidity develops.

I don’t worry about my sexuality anymore because it makes sense to me and that’s all that really matters.

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