Trial Magazine

In these pieces written by AAJ’s LGBTQ trial lawyer members, read about their experiences and stories they want to share. We must listen and, together, work to bring about change.

“Are you sure?” If you haven’t been asked that question about a fundamental aspect of yourself, then you probably are not bisexual.¹ I have heard that question more often than I can say. When I first came out, some people close to me questioned whether my identity was “just a phase.” Others asked me whether I really needed to “label” my sexuality or let people know about it.

In my experience, people like certainty. They like black and white and simply are uncomfortable with gray. But I am not gay (or part gay). And I am not straight (or part straight). I am neither—I am bisexual.

When everyone questions you so much, you begin to question yourself. I spent years not knowing where I fit in or who I really was, and I have struggled to find my place in the LGBTQ+ community. Bi visibility and advocacy are just starting to gain traction, and I was not welcomed with open arms in my local queer community by some who did not view me as “queer enough.” I often felt like I should defer to the gay, lesbian, or transgender members of the community, internalizing the idea that they have a more authentic identity than my own. Suffering from imposter syndrome, I felt like I didn’t belong. It has only been in the last few years that I have started to truly own my voice as a bisexual woman, distinct from others in the LGBTQ+ community.

Part of these struggles also come from the fact that I am considered straight-passing. No one assumes, unless I tell them, that I am outside of the heteronormativity. I understand that some view that as a privilege. Coming out has its risks, can be unsafe, and can subject people to harassment. I’ve had my LGBTQ+ status used against me in court filings, including an argument that because I understand the fight for equal rights as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I should understand the concept of “equal accountability.” But being straight-passing also feels like perpetually being in the closet.

And the idea that one can “look straight” is harmful to the entire community. For example, I was once asked by a cisgender straight male lawyer to speak on LGBTQ+ issues to the general lawyer community because I would be someone people could more easily “relate to”—in other words, I would not make straight people uncomfortable.

I really just want to be seen, validated, and heard. I’d rather be my full authentic self—including all the risks that come with it—than go through life feeling invisible.

I’m not trying to pass, and I’m not pretending to be straight, so being considered straight-passing is exhausting. It comes with a lot of assumptions about me that invalidate and erase my identity. It’s a grueling experience of having to come out over and over because otherwise people don’t see all of me, and my identity is simply erased. I really just want to be seen, validated, and heard. I’d rather be my full authentic self—including all the risks that come with it—than go through life feeling invisible.

Shenoa Payne is the founder of Shenoa Payne Attorney at Law in Portland, Ore., and can be reached at spayne@paynelawpdx.com.

Note

1. I use the term “bisexual” broadly to cover the entire bi+ community, including pansexual, omnisexual, and other multisexualities. How people identify is personal to them, but “bi+” can encompass people whose primary sexual orientation is toward people of the same gender, other genders, or people regardless of their gender.