“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The medical assistant asked me one day when we were sitting in the lunch room. “HA,” I snorted, much louder than I meant to.

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I was in a relationship, I wouldn’t be taking out student loans. I HATE that question. Every “So are there any cute boys in Cincinnati?” or “Meet anyone special yet?” sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. I know it’s innocent, I do. However, as someone who identifies as a commitment-phobe, I hear those questions and immediately my heart speeds up. DON’T. PRESSURE. ME. I tell curious friends and family. I’m aware that 99% of the time, they aren’t actually pressuring me. I am very lucky in that the people I am surrounded by just want me to be happy, but still.

I am very good at being by myself. I’m 27, and I have never been in a serious relationship. I have heard from more than one person that that’s a red flag, and maybe that’s fair. In my defense, it’s not for lack of trying. Every time I’m getting ready to meet up with someone, I make the obligatory self-deprecating comment, “Date number 457 for the one date wonder, here we go.” I’m usually pretty good at laughing at myself, but you guys, I have been on SO. MANY. DATES. Coffee dates, dinner dates, drinks. I’ve been to Top Golf, comedy shows, walks in the park, sports games. I’m sure at this point you’re thinking, but all of those things sound fun, and you wouldn’t be wrong. The dates were generally enjoyable, peppered with some disasters of course. I went on some second dates, even the occasional third. There were a few I was really excited about; those were always the ones who never texted me back. At the end of the day though, even if I couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason, it always felt wrong.

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “there are plenty of fish in the sea,” and that’s a true statement. I mean, there are over 7 billion people on this planet. I’m going to use this fish analogy for a minute, bear with me. There are fish of every shape and size; one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish and all that. According to the social norms of the ocean, a pair usually consists of one red fish and one blue fish. Okay, great, that narrows down your search pool by half. Well, I met a lot of blue fish, and not a single one of them gave me butterflies in my fins. Okay friends, now we get to the crazy part. I had spent so much time looking at everyone else, that I never got a good look at myself. One day, sometime during my 23^rd year on the earth, I saw myself in the mirror. OH. MY. GOD. It clicked so hard I swear you could have seen a lightbulb go off over my head. You guys…I am a RAINBOW FISH. My fish, my forever fish, could be swimming right under my gills, but I wouldn’t have found them because I was only looking at blue fish. My fish ISN’T BLUE. I don’t know if you have ever had the experience of unexpectedly discovering something pretty major about yourself, but let me tell you, I was dumbfounded. Of course I never felt that romantic connection, I wasn’t even looking in the right places! GAME. CHANGER. I was excited, albeit nervous, to branch out and explore the community of fish like me. I started going on good dates, I started getting butterflies. Finally, finally, It just felt right.

Friends, I wish I could tell you that being a rainbow fish is all sunshine and butterflies. Sometimes it is, and in certain environments I feel beautiful in my colors. Unfortunately, though, some people are not accepting of rainbow fish. With the revelation of my sexuality came the realization that there are people in this world who will hate me, without ever having met me, because of who I love. I remember when the Westboro Baptist Church came to Georgetown. I still thought I was straight at the time, but I was horrified and baffled by the pure evil being spewed by those protesters. I stood there with my homemade “Hoyas Don’t Hate” sign, completely unaware that I would be the object of their homophobic rants. I’m glad I didn’t know then, I don’t think I would have been able to handle it.

My story thus far has been overwhelmingly positive. I have been met with nothing but love and acceptance, and I cannot possibly express how grateful I am for it. People have gone to bat for me when comments were made, or when my confidence was shaken by some jerk who doesn’t like rainbows. I know that my relationships are no different, better or worse than heterosexual relationships, even if I need someone to remind me of that every once in a while. Hate hurts, but I believe that love is the most powerful force on the planet. The thing is, when I love, I love hard. I haven’t found my fish yet but she’s out there, and I’m excited to see where life and love lead.