22nd June 2019
As a bisexual, it’s very common for people to ask, “so, how gay are you?” Which is questionably fine, I guess, if you can give a definite answer. If you’re like me though, who lives in perpetual ebb and/or flow, it’s very near impossible to give a man-to-woman ratio on who-am-I-more-likely-to-crush-on-next.
In fact, I’m pretty convinced that’s not how it works for any one bisexual; however, if you’re queer and that is how it works for you, I’m more than willing to be proven wrong. I’d actually love to learn how to compartmentalise my romantic wants and sexual desires; that sounds like the most erotic thing on earth. Rather, I’ve been bound to a sexuality that seems to do whatever the fuck it wants. I’ve been attracted to the masculine, the feminine, the neither, the both. If I were to place myself on the Kinsey scale, I’d make sure to bring enough lubricant so to avoid chronic chaffing as I slide my way up and down the silly thing willy nilly.
I’m telling you, this being bi business can be hard work.
Especially when you’re faced with the dysphoria that too often comes with such a wishy-washy identity. I don’t say wishy-washy as a way to invalidate the experience of being attracted to more than one sex and/or gender; I use the highly scientific term to legitimise the well-known experience that is: “holy hell, I love men. I LOVE men. I love men so m… IS THAT A PRETTY GIRL?” Which has proven to be rather challenging if, like me, you’ve been indoctrinated to believe in gender binaries, the nuclear family, that Jesus doesn’t like it when girls kiss girls, and that gluttony is a sin so no you cannot have both.
Especially when you’re faced with the dysphoria that too often comes with such a wishy-washy identity. I don’t say wishy-washy as a way to invalidate the experience of being attracted to more than one sex and/or gender; I use the highly scientific term to legitimise the well-known experience that is: “holy hell, I love men. I LOVE men. I love men so m… IS THAT A PRETTY GIRL?” Which has proven to be rather challenging if, like me, you’ve been indoctrinated to believe in gender binaries, the nuclear family, that Jesus doesn’t like it when girls kiss girls, and that gluttony is a sin so no you cannot have both.
So, yeah, I’ve taken those little gems of bullshit into my dating life, all making for an unnecessarily worrisome time.
When I first came to terms with how much I like women, I had to deal with the icky internalised homophobia I’d been harbouring since nine-year-old me was told, “God doesn’t really like gay people”. There was a lot of self-hate, and othering of the LGBTQ+ community, that was encouraged by the people I looked up to. I’ve spoken a bit about it here. That uncomfortable process happened a couple of years ago, and it was one of the best personal growth things I’ve ever been through (not just for my ‘bit-gay’ self, but also for my queer friends and family). Now that I’m quite comfortable with that gay part of me, I sometimes struggle with the fact that it can, in fact, coexist with the 'not-gay' part of me. As you can read, even the way I speak about it now suggests that these kinds of attractions need to be different in order to for me to understand them; I seek to categorise and to organise this beyond messy phenomenon, that is essentially love and attraction, in an attempt to, I don’t know, control an aspect of my life that was never meant to be caged.
As I’ve said, I go up and down that Kinsey scale like no-one’s business. I can go for months without even thinking about a man, only caring for women; and just when I’m almost convinced that I might just be a complete lesbian, a man touches the small of my back and I’m writing poetry about how he sends electric sparks through my entire body. Rinse and repeat the process, with many a variable thrown in the mix. It might sound like an exciting experience with so many opportunities for love to some; but I’m highly anxious and a bit neurotic so it’s an “oh, fuck, here we go again” from me.
All of the uncertainties of this wishy-washy identity combined with my own tendencies towards anxiety and self-doubt mean internalised biphobia is now something I experience from time to time. It’s a lot less frequent than it was when I first came out, and I’m aware enough to know that all of my attractions are valid no matter my experiences or how unusual they may seem to some; but when the internalised biphobia rears its ugly head I can feel pretty rubbish.
It’s an anxiety that hits me the hardest when I can feel myself falling for someone. Intimacy is hard enough for me as it is; and when we take into account these self-prescribed prejudices and lies about what it means to be bisexual, I feel as though I will fall short of whatever that person needs me to be. I fear that I may abandon them in the future for someone of a different sex, as has been made of many bisexuals in nasty rumours. I fear that I may in fact just be straight or gay and this dating period shared between the two of us is an experiment where they will be left feeling worse off than me. I worry that when I date someone I may be picking a side, which leaves a whole chunk of my hard-earned identity behind; and from all of these concerns, I ultimately worry that my own insecurities, stemming from something as boringly human as who I like to kiss, could limit me from accessing something that I’ve wanted since I knew I deserved it: unconditional love from one person and one person alone.
See? This being bi business can be hard work.
I skim over all of that now and think, “mm, maybe you just think too much,” but they are all legitimate concerns, worries and wants. I wish I could organise the various aspects of my love life and crushes and sexy times into boxes for tidy reference; but that’s just not how my bisexuality goes. The whole thing is too fluid to be held behind bars, and it’s understandable that I should feel scared about what it is from time to time. As I get older, I’m sure a lot more will make sense; and maybe I will be able to give a man-to-woman ratio on who-am-I-more-likely-to-crush-on-next if someone were to so rudely ask “how gay are you?”
But until then I’ll just be riding the Kinsey scale, breathing through my biphobia, and kissing whoever feels right.
ps - happy pride month :)
ps - happy pride month :)