We recently spoke with community members who identify as bi, pan and/or queer about how they came to better understand this sexual fluidity, and how it plays out in their lives. In this blog, our seven contributors share their experiences of navigating fluidity, fantasies, and the ongoing journey of finding themselves. All contributors are she/her unless otherwise stated.

Sexuality is often talked about like it’s a box you’re meant to tick once and never revisit. You’re straight, you’re gay, you’re bi, you’re pan - and once you’ve chosen your lane, that’s supposedly that.

But most people’s real experiences don’t look like tidy boxes. They look like curves, spirals, loops, dead-ends, breakthroughs, and quiet internal shifts that only make sense years later. They look like curiosity that keeps knocking. They look like attraction you didn’t expect. They look like fantasies that nudge you toward parts of yourself you didn’t have language for yet.

Fluidity isn’t a trend or a phase. It’s simply one of the many ways sexuality exists.

And for a lot of people we spoke to, fluidity showed up long before they realised they were experiencing it.

Early signs that something is shifting

For some, the first hints of fluidity came from their fantasies. Not necessarily dramatic ones - sometimes just the subtle ones you talk yourself out of. One person told us their fantasies were like “breadcrumbs leading somewhere I didn’t know how to name yet.” They’d push the thoughts away, then feel them resurfacing stronger each time.

Others noticed it in their friendships: that one person they were inexplicably drawn to, even though they “shouldn’t” be. A contributor said they spent years telling themselves, “This is just admiration”, until eventually it became obvious it was more layered than that.

And for many, puberty wasn’t a clean straight-or-gay split. Their desire wasn’t fixed to one gender - it was situational, emotional, or based on the person in front of them. But they didn’t have the language for that at the time, so they defaulted to the closest label available.

Fluidity often begins quietly. It’s only later that people look back and recognise the signs.

Letting go of labels that stop fitting

One of the strongest themes that came through our community kōrero was how much pressure people feel to “pick a label and stick to it,” even when that label stops reflecting who they actually are.

For some, letting go of the old label felt like a loss, even a betrayal of their previous identity. One contributor said:

That fear is common. Many people feel protective of their old label because it represents the journey they lived through - the coming out stories, the relationships that shaped them, the community that held them.

But fluidity doesn’t erase your past identity. It adds to it.

One person described it as “growing more rooms in the same house.” You don’t demolish the old ones; you just make space for more of yourself.

When people finally allow themselves to stop forcing desire into categories that no longer feel honest, they often describe a sense of relief. Not a big dramatic revelation - just a gentler, easier relationship with themselves.

Moments that unlock something new

Fluidity doesn’t always unfold slowly, though. Sometimes it hits like a single moment that breaks open a wall you didn’t know you had.

One contributor talked about an encounter that “opened a doorway” they hadn’t considered before. Not because it was cinematic or transformative, but because it revealed how natural - how comfortable - that desire felt. They’d expected it to feel foreign or experimental. Instead, it felt strangely familiar.

For others, it wasn’t a single moment but repeated, unexpected attraction to people they didn’t think they could ever be attracted to. Someone laughed telling us:

These aren’t rare experiences. They’re incredibly common - people just don’t talk about them openly.

When identity changes, but slowly

Of course, not everyone has a sharp turning point. Some people described their understanding of sexuality as “quiet waves rolling in over years.” They didn’t suddenly wake up with new desires. They simply noticed that the way they related to intimacy - or imagined future relationships - had shifted.

One person said it wasn’t their attraction that changed, but their willingness to name it.

Others said they didn’t adopt a new label at all. They just stopped trying to explain away the complexity of their desire. For them, fluidity wasn’t a change - it was an acceptance.

This is fluidity too. Sometimes it’s subtle enough that no one else notices it except you.

The role of community in understanding yourself

Several contributors said they didn’t fully understand their fluidity until they saw it reflected in other people. Community makes fluidity feel normal, not confusing.

Hearing things like: “My attractions shift depending on the person,” or “my label changed because I changed,” gives people permission to breathe.

One person told us, “When I finally met others who spoke about sexuality the way I felt it, everything clicked.” Community creates a mirror - one that shows possibilities you didn’t know were valid.

And sometimes it’s not even about other people’s stories. It’s simply feeling safe enough in queer spaces to let attraction show up without overthinking it.

That safety matters. It creates room for curiosity, and curiosity often becomes clarity.

Fluidity can mean many things

One of the most important takeaways from everyone we spoke to is that fluidity doesn’t look the same for everyone.

For some, fluidity is attraction to multiple genders. For others, it changes depending on the relationship. Attraction can evolve over life stages; fantasies can shift with confidence or experience. Emotional intimacy that becomes sexual over time, and vice-versa. 

Some will use labels. Some won’t. Some change labels multiple times. Some never feel the need to name their sexuality at all. There’s no correct version.

You’re not late. You’re not confused. You’re not alone.

People often feel shame for realising their fluidity “late.” But there’s no timeline for understanding your sexuality. People discover new aspects of themselves in their 20s, 30s, 50s, 70s.

One contributor said: “We’re all figuring it out as we go. And that’s the point.”

Fluidity isn’t a problem to solve - it’s an invitation to be more curious and gentler with yourself. So, whether your desire feels steady, shifting, surprising, expansive, or beautifully complicated - it’s valid.

Your sexuality gets to grow as you do.