A little while ago someone asked me when I'd discovered I was gay. Had I always been a lesbian or had I realised it and, if so, how did that happen? I said it as it was. I hadn't always known. In fact, and I didn't say this then but I'm telling you now, I used to chase after boys when I was little; I even had a boyfriend for most of my time at university. I was quite happy that way too.

The idea that one day I "turned gay", then, is an interesting one and I've come across it ever since first coming out. Jokes about my ex-boyfriend being "that bad" were common at the time. Sure, I might at some point have had an inkling that I was "that way inclined" but when post-break-up my first boyfriend said I might discover I liked girls (this was meant as friendly encouragement), I wasn't convinced.

The thought of being with a woman felt more like a naughty fantasy than anything that would ever become reality. I didn't think I'd ever act on these "secret" feelings and the idea of actually telling people I was lesbian, bi, queer, or I wasn't sure what to label it, terrified me. I felt certain it would fill my life with stress, judgment and trouble. I was scared. And that was with me living in the UK, with my parents in Sweden. Not in Russia, where what is now happening both angers and frightens me beyond belief.

Despite residing in a tolerant country I was worried that people would pigeonhole me according to stereotype, adding judgment and preconceived ideas to the mix. I remained in the closet, ignoring my feelings and telling myself that they weren't there.

It wasn't until I first saw my current girlfriend and my pulse sped up to the point where I felt dizzy that I knew I'd met my Waterloo. I finally embraced, and found, myself. So was that when I turned gay? It's what I told my inquisitor. But was I homo- or bisexual? It seemed these things mattered.

I was in a same-sex relationship, in love with a woman and certain I would never leave her but I could still appreciate a good-looking man. As much as I'd been scared to come out, I didn't now want to sit on the fence and as far as my life was concerned I was a lesbian, just a little lost in a jungle of labels. Careful not to make assumptions, I was trying to figure out my sexuality and whether I'd always, somehow, known it was that way.

My girlfriend's been a lesbian for as long as she can remember, my good friend was always bi and I have many friends who call themselves queer. But for me, approximately three years into a life of being out, these labels don't sit right. Do I have to settle with one?

I often come to think of a letter I once read in a magazine. Written by an 80-something lady, it told the story of a woman who had lived as a lesbian her whole life but now found herself in love with a man. You never know what life will bring – that was her message, urging us not to judge. Her words made me realise the disservice labels do us. A lesbian "turning straight" isn't always met with kind eyes either – and maybe that is at the heart of these concerns.

Whatever we do, someone is there, ready to judge us, when really what we just need to accept is that people come out, one way or another, all of the time. No one turns gay, no one chooses to be gay and no one necessarily stays one way. And that's OK.