Growing up in Bolivia, where traditional gender roles and heteronormativity often rule the day, discovering my bisexuality felt like finding a secret door in a game of hide-and-seek — except I was the only one playing, and everyone else was still stuck in the living room. For a long time, I felt out of place, struggling against the strict binary norms that governed society. Everything changed when I met others who defied these norms. I remember sitting in a café in La Paz with a friend who openly shared their experience as a non-binary person with me. Sharing our experiences opened my eyes to the many ways people can exist outside the binary.
La Paz, with its lively markets and stunning mountain views, played a big part in my journey. It’s a city where LGBT marches have been happening for years, creating a vibrant community that felt both empowering and complex. But navigating life as a bi and non-binary individual was still a bit of a rollercoaster. Stigmatization was everywhere, not just from society but even within the LGBT community. Explaining my identity to family members was tough, and it often felt like they couldn’t quite grasp what bisexuality and non-binary identity meant. I often felt like I was navigating two worlds — one where I could express myself freely and another where acceptance was a challenge. I’ve never had to come out directly, but the journey to help my family understand has been ongoing.
Artistic expression became a vital outlet for my bisexuality. Engaging in various art forms — photo performances, documentaries, photography, and graphic design — was a way to resist societal norms and promote LGBT visibility. Collaborating with collectives like "Maricas Bolivia," known for their groundbreaking radio program and community work, was instrumental in challenging societal norms. "Maricas" is a Spanish term often used to refer to gay men or those who are seen as effeminate. While it can be playful among LGBT communities, it can also be used in a negative way. In Bolivia, groups like "Maricas Bolivia" have reclaimed the term to celebrate the LGBT community. One of their iconic acts was the "Beso Marica de Bolivia," a powerful street performance in La Paz featuring indigenous attire, symbolizing the intersection of cultural heritage and LGBT identity.
Through my art, I connected with many other bi people who were navigating similar ups and downs. I remember one exhibit where my photography was displayed alongside other bi artists. The sense of community was incredible as we shared our stories and experiences. We bonded over our love for art and the freedom it gave us to be our true selves. Those connections meant the world to me, providing the support and understanding I needed in a world that could feel pretty dismissive at times.
But the most significant and hopeful moment came during my visit to Laguna de Colores. I had been there a few times before, but this visit felt different. After chatting with friends and reflecting on my romantic experiences, the term “bisexual” finally clicked for me. It felt like the perfect way to describe who I am.
This beautiful lagoon, with its vibrant, changing colors, felt like a perfect symbol for bisexuality. Just as the lagoon shifts hues, my understanding of my identity grew and changed over time. Standing there in the midst of nature’s beauty, I felt a deep connection to my bisexuality. It reminded me that, like the lagoon, our identities are fluid, multifaceted, and wonderfully complex.
Laguna de Colores is nestled in the altiplano, surrounded by stunning mountains. The lagoon is a true marvel, with its waters reflecting different shades depending on the time of day and the minerals in the water. It felt alive, constantly transforming — just like my self-exploration. The ability to love and be attracted to people of different genders is a beautiful part of being human, offering a richness that many may never fully appreciate.
As I stood by the water’s edge, I felt the weight of societal expectations and judgments lift off my shoulders. The lagoon’s ever-changing colors reminded me that it’s perfectly okay to be different and to embrace all parts of myself without fear or shame. I spent hours just sitting there, watching the colors shift with the changing light, feeling a deep sense of peace and acceptance wash over me. It was a transformative experience that strengthened my resolve to live authentically and proudly, no matter the challenges ahead.
In the colors of Laguna de Colores, I found a reflection of myself — ever-changing, vibrant, and unapologetically complex. This journey is still unfolding, but with each step, I grow more confident and proud of who I am. Embracing my bisexuality has been a personal triumph and a powerful statement for visibility and acceptance. Through art, activism, and the support of my community, I’m excited to continue advocating for the bi community in Bolivia and beyond. The future feels bright, and I can’t wait to see where this path leads me!
Drixie is a non-binary bisexual activist and artist living in Bolivia, dedicated to promoting visibility and acceptance for the LGBT community. If you'd like to share your own bi story, please email us at [email protected].