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I didn't come out as pansexual until I moved from the US to Uruguay. I felt my sexuality was fetishized and misunderstood by the few people I told in the US.

Lola Méndez   

I didn't come out as pansexual until I moved from the US to Uruguay. I felt my sexuality was fetishized and misunderstood by the few people I told in the US.
  • Growing up, I had crushes on both boys and girls, but I didn't feel I could fully acknowledge that.
  • It wasn't until I moved away from the United States to Uruguay that I really explored my sexuality.

As long as I've had crushes, they've been on both boys and girls, but I never pursued the romantic feelings I've had on girls. Sure, I kissed a few in high school at parties under the guise of getting attention from boys, and there was one friend I kissed in private, away from watchful eyes and people at parties who offered excuses about my intentions. (She also dates women now.) But I never fully explored that side of my sexuality.

A decade later it was 2014, and I was 25 and living in New York City. I changed the settings on my dating apps and started matching with women. But I was that dreadful user who'll match with you and then avoid making any plans to meet up. I couldn't find the courage to go on dates with women.

I moved out of the United States in 2015, just a few months after gay marriage was federally legalized.

When I tried to come out to men I dated, they fetishized or misunderstood my sexuality

In my late 20s, I'd confess to some men I dated that I thought I was bisexual, but they'd then sexualize my desire and make it about me performing with a woman for them. One told me I couldn't be attracted to women because I was in a relationship with him. Another repeated an antigay myth that it's common for survivors of sexual violence to seek relationships with people of their same sex.

My sexuality was denied, fetishized, misunderstood, and mansplained to me — so in the closet I stayed.

I moved to my fatherland, Uruguay, when I was 30. Uruguay has a history of progressive LGBTQ legislation dating back to the legalization of same-sex intercourse in 1934. All 50 US states had criminalized sex between people of the same sex until 1961, when Illinois became the first to legalize it.

Uruguay has continued to protect LGBTQ citizens. In 2008, it became the first country in South America to pass a law allowing civil unions, which also benefits unmarried heterosexual couples. At that time, same-sex civil unions in the US weren't federally legalized.

In 2009, Uruguay became the first country in Latin America to allow joint adoption by same-sex couples. By 2013, Uruguay had legalized same-sex marriage, which was still federally illegal in the US. LGBTQ Uruguayans are also legally protected from many forms of discrimination; for example, they cannot be prevented from serving in the military or donating blood.

In Uruguay, I finally felt safe and supported enough to come out

Uruguayans support their LGBTQ comrades. Pride is celebrated in September, culminating with the Marcha por la Diversidad, or the Diversity March, in the capital of Montevideo. It's held around the same time as Bi Visibility Day.

Around that time in 2020, I had been dating a woman for the first time for about a month. I finally was ready to come out after 15 years of questioning my sexuality. I sent a quick text to my family and came out publicly via Twitter before joining a few queer friends and allies to walk in the parade. (While I came out as bisexual, I now identify as pansexual.)

It was my first time partaking in a Pride festivity as an openly queer person. Candombe drummers set the rhythm, and the energy was palpable as we marched with thousands of Uruguayans. It was overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people who support my right to love who I love.

As I navigated my first same-sex relationship, I was comforted knowing my sexuality was legally protected and culturally accepted. I was never harassed for holding my ex's hand or kissing her in public.

Once, she dropped me off at my apartment, where construction work was taking place. As she leaned in to kiss me goodbye, I worried the men were watching us and would harass me as I entered my building. But when I exited the car, not a single one gawked or stared. I'm thankful that's not something I had to experience that day — or any other.



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