Still don't think you were homosexual. Abused, definitely, but not homosexual.
The following words are going to sound dated, possibly even silly, but they were the words I thought when I was in my early 20s (back in the 70s), so I am dated anyway.
I was raised Catholic, so have the Ten Commandments (Catholic style) memorized like most people memorize the alphabet. And, at that time, the only one I was sure I never did was #6. (Again, Catholic style, so that's the "adultery" commandment.) And then I was raped. To me, I broke the 6th commandment. I was a floozie, a tramp, a whore. I honestly considered myself all those things.
But, years later, someone finally got me straight. I did not commit adultery. I was raped. I did not instantly become a floozie, a tramp or a whore. I was raped. I was used for someone else's pleasure (and anger, and loathing of self and everyone else around them), and then discarded like a dirty tissue. That is not sex. That is not love. That is not choice.
I think you got the same raw deal but from people of your own gender. It may have turned you on your ear to think you were homosexual, but I don't think you were. That choice was taken from you.
So, I'm not a floozie and you're not a homosexual. Deal?