As a second generation Asian American, it was much easier for Knives Nguyen to come out to their friends at school than to their mom.
“Do you know what a bisexual person is?” With a racing heart and a lump in my throat, I told her, “That’s who I am.”
I came out to my mom in middle school. Even though she immigrated here from Vietnam as a teenager and speaks perfect English, I wasn’t sure if she had ever heard of the term “bisexual” before.
Like my sexuality, my life has always felt split in two. Who I get to be when I’m at school, and who I am when I’m at home. In high school, I was openly queer and supported our small but mighty gay community.
But at home, my exploration of androgyny was met with hostility from my father, and disappointment from my mother. One especially tense day, my father told me I needed to change how I looked or else he would throw out all of my clothes and replace them with skirts and dresses. A female gender was a performance I had to keep up at home. And I was failing.