A few days ago, I went to a comedy show to support my friend Brian. It was his first time doing stand-up and I, a proud and motherly friend, sat in the first row. Right in the middle of the first row. You know, so he had someone to make eye contact with. A good plan.

However, I didn’t think past Brian’s act. I didn’t think how the comedians following him would react to my sitting right in the middle of the first row. Turns out, they talk to you. They invite you to answer questions and participate in the show. Who knew?

The third and final comedian had a bit about her first celebrity crush (it was Mozart) and she asked various female audience members to reveal their first celebrity crushes. She got the answers you would expect: Zac Efron, Jake Gyllenhaal, etc.

But when she asked me, I had to be honest. Vanessa Hudgens from High School Musical (the first one, obviously) was a big deal to me when I was a kid. Her character was so pretty and so smart and so talented and did I mention so pretty?

Who was your first same-sex celebrity crush? Tell us with a response!

I could tell the comedian was a little surprised that I hadn’t responded with a typical beefcake like the other women had. Perhaps her gaydar is non-functioning, or perhaps I am simply quietly queer — an inconspicuous queen of pink-purple-blue.

This small interaction got me thinking: other people clearly don’t assume my sexuality to be anything other than hetero. This is absolutely bonkers to me; I’m so familiar with my own mindset that I don’t realize others can’t see the bisexual aura through which I view the world. I’m so used to viewing both men and women as attractive that I forget other people might not realize that I’m not all that straight. And for those who actually know me, my dating history (which only consists of two partners, both men) indicates my attraction to guys, but not gals. I also don’t embody any stereotypical queer mannerisms, so I can understand why someone might assume me to be straight.

In fact, these very reasons also kept my sexuality hidden from my own damn self for years. The signs were there, as you’ll see, but I never read them correctly until I was around 14 years old.

Welcome again, folks, to Jeopardy! Sexuality Edition. Our category is: childhood crushes.