I found a different self slowly, learned to exist as if with many different goggles on at once. Always speaking from my mother’s kitchen in the Silicon Valley and, at the same time, my grandmother’s crowded living room in Punjab. In these years, I would feel the sharpness of many kinds of difference, marginalization. But when I looked down at myself for signs of why I felt so other, all I would find was the color of my hands.

“Your truth is always your truth, whether said or silent. It just might not be the idea of your truth that somebody else has in their mind.”

The first ever Bisexual Awareness Week created space to organize resources, initiate connections and speak about our experiences in a new way.