Queer Enough: One Bisexual's Decision to Come Out at Work
A practical guide for sharing who you are and who you sleep with in a professional setting, from one nonbinary bi-con to another.
*all names have been changed for privacy reasons *
My coming out journey is deeply tied to my professional career. When I started my first corporate job, I was determined to fit in. I was officially done with college, done “experimenting,” happily married in a hetero-looking relationship, with everything I worked for coming to fruition.
This is what everyone was supposed to do, right?
You get a college degree, start at a corporate job trying to work your way up the ladder, and come home to your spouse every day. I started at the company as a straight female focused on staying under the radar. I heard stories about all your stereotypical work-isms: water cooler talk, work-wives/husbands, crazy stories about office weirdos, and I was looking forward to finding my rhythm within the office drama of my first “real” job.
It turned out to be much more drama than I bargained for.
My first year was very difficult. There was so much to learn; the woman training me was a nightmare, and the person who had offered me the job was no help either. I did have a supportive manager, but I was afraid to reveal that I needed help. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle the job I desperately wanted.
I needed to prove, on my own, that all the work I went through to get my degree wasn’t for nothing.
I was hired in August onto a sinking ship, but I had no idea that Colette, who held a similar position with one of our largest accounts, had been caught lying to the customer about a few things. I was onboarded quickly and found out the account manager, Martha, was on maternity leave. Colette was horrible to me in so many ways but I was so grateful for a job I just accepted it.
Within the first month of working together, I had to go to my manager and her new manager to express my discomfort in working with her. One night before a team dinner, I begged another coworker to join us so I wouldn't have to be alone with her. My concerns were brushed off, and I was reassured that Martha would be back soon to help. When she finally returned, Martha seemed like a ray of sunshine compared to what I had experienced with Colette, but she wasn’t the salvation I was promised either.
As things failed to improve at work, and I was still afraid to ask for help, I turned instead to something that would numb the frustration. I started drinking way more than I should to relieve the intense pressure I was feeling as the abuse continued.
Pro tip: Workplace abuse does not have to be physical to be serious.
One day, Martha screamed at me on a client call and I ended up calling my boss in tears. He immediately took me off the account and booked a meeting with HR—I thought for sure I was getting fired. But he told me to “hold tight” for about a month, and that's what I did.
Each day, as I logged in and saw zero assigned tasks, anxiety overwhelmed me about my employment. How long would I still have a job? Team calls where I had to see Colette and Martha made me so nauseous I nearly threw up.
Finally, I decided to find support outside of my direct team.
Like any diligent and eager employee, I spent a few hours searching through every benefit the company offered. One of them was the Women's Network (BRG) with 3,000 global members. Three thousand people in the same situation I was seemed like good odds in finding a support system outside my current, dysfunctional team.
In the corporate world, ERG (Employee Resource Group) and BRG (Business Resource Group) refer to voluntary, employee-led groups formed around shared identities, backgrounds, or interests. While often used interchangeably, ERGs primarily focus on workplace culture and support, while BRGs take a more strategic approach by aligning their goals directly to the company's business objectives.
The Women's Network was nice, but it was like drinking a hot cappuccino when I really wanted an iced macchiato. It was filling the need for caffeine, but not quite what I wanted.
Until I found the newly minted LGBTQ+ BRG at my company.
The very first meeting I joined in 2021, I was sweating bullets. Was I supposed to be in a conference room doing something else? Yep. But being on this call was way more important than whatever the rest of my team was doing out there on the sales floor.
The call started right at 10 am and the co-chair, Dario, asked if there were any new members on the pride call. I squeaked in a voice I didn't recognize, “Hi! I am Joshlyn Peace and I am bisexual!” Thankfully, with my camera off, no one could see my face burning bright red under my smudged foundation.
He smiled warmly and greeted me with a simple “Welcome.” And just like that, I felt something I had never felt before—seen.
And yet, imposter syndrome still followed me into every meeting.
I was constantly worried I wasn't gay enough, like being bisexual was just a way to beg for attention, or worse, fraudulent. Most members of the group were gay and/or transgender, which was a forced outing compared to the safety of my straight-passing relationship.
How deserving am I, a female presenting person in a straight appearing relationship, to take up such space? Am I really part of the LGBTQ+ community?
A few months after I joined, one of my new friends from the group, an amazing trans woman, told me, “Your sexual orientation does not revolve around your relationship status.” Up against this truth, my worries started to change.
Dario and the other co-chair, Rodrigo, listened to my suggestions for membership growth and fun activities, which they supported financially to our executive sponsor. They gave me a chance to attend a DEI conference on behalf of the group. They genuinely established the most supported group within the company, breaking down barriers and product silos that not only introduced people to the LGBTQ+ network, but also fostered business connections across those verticals.
I was genuinely contributing and becoming a leader. But…
Am I qualified to be a leader in this space?
Every time I suggested a program, organized a speaker, hosted a virtual happy hour, or simply listened to someone else’s story, my doubts would lose their power. Leadership did not arrive because I suddenly felt worthy. It arrived because I did the work. And that visibility invited others to step forward, forged by the path of Dario and Rodrigo.
Coming out at work helped me find community and support. Maybe it can do that for you too.
Coming out is not a single reveal. Queer folks have a few choices about how much to share, with whom, and in what format.
That can look like:
Quietly joining a BRG/ERG, adding pronouns to your signature, mentioning your partner in a conversation with a trusted colleague
Publicly proclaiming who you are by speaking on a panel or mentoring other queer employees
Sharing neutral personal details like “my partner and I did xyz last weekend”
No matter how loud and proud you are, allow your identity to be visible by action. Wear that pride pin, correct those that use the wrong pronouns, change your background to rainbows. Wear your flag colors in a professional manner (bisexuals sure wear a lot of purple, no?).
Be aware that more visibility can mean more connection, but it can also invite questions, especially when discussing sexual orientation. This can invite folks into your relationship when you do not want them there. Prepare some short replies to these invasive questions. Things like, “we can chat about xyz instead” to redirect conversation or “I’d tell you, but my autobiography hasn’t been released yet.”
Shut down inappropriate conversation entirely by saying no or stop. “No” is a full sentence. Assess your workplace policies and choose a path that balances authenticity and safety. It isn’t a queer person's job to educate others just because they are queer, but if you are visible it is good to be ready for the conversation.
For many bi+ people, we struggle with feeling queer enough. The added pressure of performing in a corporate environment compounds these frustrations. The support of my friends allowed me to fight back against the internal biphobia I had written off as just experimenting.
By replacing “do I deserve this?” with “can I do this?” I was able to focus on succeeding as a person instead of identity policing.
Becoming more comfortable in my own skin gave me confidence to start speaking up for the community, wearing rainbow gear I may have felt uncomfortable wearing before, and even doing something as small as putting a rainbow flag on my desk to proudly show off on camera no matter which meeting I was attending. By showing up authentically, others hiding out as “allies” had the courage to do the same.
Remember: Your sexual orientation and gender identity does not hinge on your relationship. It only belongs to you. You get to choose how and when you want to share, especially at work.
Love,
Your nonbinary bi-con,
Joshlyn Peace
