“Bisexual”

Here’s the deal. Yes, I’m bisexual. I don’t like the word (I greatly prefer “queer”), but I’ll use it for simplicity’s sake here.

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On a recent trip home, I came out to my parents. Again. They didn’t believe me the first time – because, you know, people make things like that up all the time *eye roll*. Coming out (again) was quite the fiasco. And being a complete genius, I did it on my first evening home of a 5 day weekend. Nothing like telling your parents that you’re a homo for sure to make dinnertime awkward. My mom gave me the silent treatment for almost an entire day, which would have been blissful if it weren’t so dang uncomfortable.

I somehow managed to make it through the weekend, and at the close of it, my mom was very adamant in insisting that I don’t “advertise” my queerness, because I’d “scare off” some “nice boy” who would otherwise come to court me.

Here’s the deal. Yes, I’m bisexual. I don’t like the word (I greatly prefer “queer”), but I’ll use it for simplicity’s sake here. But no, I’m not “bisexual” in the way the media portrays it. I’m not a LUG (lesbian-until-graduation) or a Katy-Perry-lesbian, kissing girls for the attention. I’m honestly attracted to people, and I find that I can enjoy being with them regardless of what gender they are. I’m more attracted to female-identified persons, but I still like male-identified persons, on occasion. Bisexual somehow implies equal attraction to both sexes, which is just not true in my case. And in many other cases, I’m sure. Bisexual somehow also implies…a promiscuous female who messes around with other women until shit gets serious, and then runs off to find an acceptable male with whom to procreate. I find that opinion frighteningly often within both queer and straight communities. And I have a big problem with that.

I can’t say for sure whether the person I decide to spend the rest of my life will be male or female. And I don’t think it really matters. Ultimately, I want someone who I adore to cherish me. And either a male or a female can be capable of that. But here’s the other caveat. Let’s just say, for hypotheses sake, that I end up with a male. I’ll get to enjoy the privileges that come with being in a heterosexual relationship, but that will not make me a heterosexual person. Not one bit. I will still be a queer lady, in a queer relationship with a man. And that man, by necessity, will have to not only accept, but embrace the fact that I am not straight.

I can’t promise that I’ll always be more interested in women. I can’t promise that I’ll always even want to identify as openly (which is admittedly… not-very-openly) queer as I do right now. But I can promise this – I’ll always advocate for equality. And if my queerness scares anybody off, you can bet your bottom dollar that I sure as hell didn’t want to shack up with them in the first place. Because you don’t “become” or “un-become” a homo – I truly believe that we just are. I could never see myself with somebody who didn’t fully appreciate the fact that I have been in relationships with and honestly loved both men and women before.

About the author

misszero

Early twenties, rugby-playing, bhangra-dancing queer. At a large university in a small town. Out to almost everyone that matters. Into dykey haircuts, good music, Lebanese food, and naps. Likes to hyper-analyze everything. Loves to cook, and more importantly, to eat what has been cooked. Incredibly loud and outgoing. Organizes drawers by color. Is both best-friends and worst-enemies with the Stairmaster. Often described as "intense". Wears hats with ear flaps and brightly colored coats. Active tea-drinker, flax-seed-consumer, and cellular-respirator.