Bisexual.
I hate that word. I cringe when I say it, when I hear it, when someone uses it to confirm or deny my sexual identity. It's the equivalent to "mulatto." It's icky and outdated and strangely detached from feeling. Bi gives me the creeps.
Bi is everything uncertain, everything in-between, everything fence-straddling. Bi is being unable to make up your mind. Bi is not committing fully. Bi is being too afraid to step all the way out of that proverbial closet, or bi is following the latest pop culture trends, clamoring for attention at the bars or having one too many shots. Bi is a hanging chad, an unsigned contract, a half-answered email.
Never -- or, at the very least, rarely -- is a bi a legitimate, understood, accepted sexual identity.
I am bisexual. I've known this from the moment I was ever aware of having crushes, male or female. I mostly liked boys, and like any normal kindergartener, then middle schooler, teenager and college co-ed, I crushed, flirted, dated, fucked, loved, lusted, admired and fantasized all about... boys. Except, of course, when I'd do those things with girls, too.
At first this was my dirty little secret. It wasn't until late college when I dared even drop the tiniest hint that "bi" was a part of my make up. Liking and lusting women was only acceptable in the context of Jill Sobule, Girls Gone Wild, that classic Neve Campbell and Denise Richards movie (you know, that glorious pool scene) and later (for better or worse), Katy Perry and Lindsay and SamRon. That is, my split sexuality was okay in the context of trendy, pop culture, sassy role playing -- but that's where it ended, right? I didn't really like girls for real... except, um, I did.
In some ways, bisexual individuals are the last great sexual frontier. The vast majority of Americans can understand gay, even if they don't agree with it. We can spot it, identify it, rally after it, dedicate a cable network to it. We have the gay rights movement, gay pride parades, gay magazines, gay cruises, even a gay chamber of commerce. We have gay politicians, lawyers, doctors, teachers. We bisexuals? We're stuck with Lindsay Lohan, Cinemax after midnight and a kitschy pop song every decade or so.
Why is bi still in the shadows? Why do bisexuals still feel so alienated, even when LGBT culture is becoming so mainstream? Afterall, there we are right there in the acronym, in between the gays and the trannies.
We're a misunderstood, complicated bunch.
You mean, we want to have sex with men AND women? How do we decide whom to flirt with at a bar or take home at last call? Do we just sleep with one gender and settle down with the other? Do we want gay marriage too? Couldn't we just marry the opposite sex and avoid the whole kurfuffle? Aren't we being selfish? Isn't this a stage? Is this some kind of manifestation of third wave feminism? Are we trying to prove a point?
We raise a whole new crop of issues that people simply don't have the energy to evaluate. Pick a side and stick with it, they think.
The truth is, I've never felt accepted even within LGBT community. I'm not a lesbian. I'm not even your stereotypical (heavy emphasis on "stereotypical") girl that's into girls. I'm a lipstick-wearing, Sex and the City (rerun) watching, boy-crushing, stiletto wearing, half-lesbian cliché. I'm ashamed to say I haven't seen a single episode of "The L Word," the idea of wearing (or being received by) a strap-on terrifies me to no end and I'm about as attracted to butch women as a gay man is to me. In other words, I have zero street cred in the lesbian community and gay men think my mere existence is minimalizing their cause.
My particular sexuality -- my fondness of men and centerfold-resembling women makes me a joke in the LGBT -- and, in many instances, the feminist -- world. And I understand. Because of the duality of my sexual orientation, I can "pass" for straight when it's convenient. It's true: I don't know what its like to be gay bashed. I've never had to experience the awkwardness of taking a same sex partner to the company holiday party, the fear of getting bullied in school, the ire of family members who can't accept my lifestyle. When needed, I just slip into my heterosexual identity and no one knows the difference.
But is it that easy?
Sure, I'm not the easily-spotted lesbian archetype, and therefore I don't bear the full brunt of the burden of homophobia -- but this disguise, by default, also closets me automatically. Close friends know that sometimes I'm with women and sometimes I'm with men, but my family, my coworkers, my acquaintances -- not a clue. Nothing about my outward appearance betrays my bedroom preferences, so I hide. This has its own consequences, to be sure, not the least of which is rarely being able to find another woman like myself since we've all got our heads buried in the sand. When I have stumbled upon a girl who also identifies as bi (though few used the actual term), it was merely by accident, perhaps a whispered confession after 10 too many vodka tonics. A former girlfriend, a gorgeous, feminine-to-the-max sorority girl who always dated the hottest guys on campus, wondered how many more of "us" there were out there, keeping the secret shoved so far deep down that we barely even entertained the thought ourselves. There we are, hiding in plain daylight.
Yet even those close to me don't take my sexuality seriously. Boyfriends used to laugh and wink -- did I want to put on a little girl-on-girl show for them? Girl (platonic) friends seemed titillated ("I've always been curious, too.." they'd hint after a night out drinking) or suspicious ("But we're just friends, right?"). Well-meaning pals unintentionally belittled my identity: "Well, we all fall in love with a person," they preached, trying to ignore the issue of gender. Well duh, I thought. No one falls in love with a penis or vagina, no matter what their orientation. Even market research studies, social networking profiles and most dating Web sites ignore us -- "bisexual" is very rarely an option.
It wasn't until I moved to New York that I felt I could own my sexual identity in all of its ambiguity and political incorrectness.
C started at the PR firm I worked at just a few weeks after I did -- we were going to be the new girls together, and for that I was grateful. Instantly I was drawn to her. She was gorgeous in an organic Brooklyn kind of way, and absolutely glowed. I knew immediately she too was into girls -- turns out bisexuals have a "gaydar" afterall. Months later I confirmed my hunch via office instant messaging about my hookup the night before.
"What was he like?" she asked.
"Well... it wasn't a 'he,'" I replied, daringly.
"Me too," she typed.
I think I finally exhaled then. She was, believe it or not, the fist bisexual woman I'd met, aside from the few female hookups I'd had in the past -- although none of them claimed their bisexuality. But C owned it. During a train ride back from a company retreat, we secluded ourselves in a car away from our coworkers, talking the whole time about our sexual identities. I consider it my first "coming out" moment. After 25 long years, I actually said aloud for the first time, "I'm bisexual." And someone else could relate. I was beyond thrilled to have found a confidant in her. Yet even in the excitement of realizing I wasn't alone, I found myself mired in the very bisexual discrimination I couldn't stand. I often would resent C's boyfriend -- not because I necessarily wanted her, but because I wanted my newfound bi buddy to join the trenches with me, to fight for the cause! How could we spend two hours talking about the secret world of bi and then she could just go home to her banker boyfriend? A part of me felt betrayed, no matter how crazily unjustified it was.
That same summer I continued the bi breakthrough when I went on my first date with a woman. Sure, I'd slept with women before, but it was always under the guise of a party trick, a drunken dare, a freak occurrence, a friendship gone too far.
But N -- N and I went on a proper date. We met at the Flatiron Lounge, a perfectly dark, sexy, gorgeous little haunt. We ordered drinks. We nibbled on appetizers. We shot each other cautious but knowing looks. We giggled uncomfortably when a group of men tried to hit on us, totally unaware that we were the ones trying to pick each other up. Hours later we hailed a cab and on our way to her favorite late-night pizza joint, she kissed me, hard and fast and eager. She invited me up to her place after we gorged on slices and Cokes, but, like any good girl on a first date, I demurely declined. Nothing more ever became of N and I, but I finally felt like I'd owned my bisexuality. I'd vocalized it. I'd claimed it. I expressed it in an evolved fashion, without having to hide my desires behind a trend.
Bisexuality is still the red-headed step child of the LGBT world. We're far from united. I'm the first to admit I've been partly responsible for my own "accidental" closeting -- there were times along the way when I could have casually dropped the b word into conversation, corrected someone when they assumed the date I was discussing was a man, or spoken up when a friend said she "didn't believe" people could go both ways. I was far too cozy in my straight world, even if that wasn't the whole story.
I still don't like the word "bisexual." It's all kinds of ill-fitting ickiness. But it's me, and I'll try to get used to it, one cringe-inducing proclamation at a time. And to all of the other hundreds and millions of secretly bisexual women out there -- hi. I'm glad we had this talk.
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I've largely compartmentalized my bisexuality and kept it in the realm of fantasy, pornography, or erotica where I am at least somewhat comfortable with it. As someone who never felt as though he fit in or found an identity of any nature that correctly fit, adding a sexual orientation component to everything I already feel is almost unbearable.
Like you, I tried dating those of the same sex and slept with a good number, but I never quite experienced the comfort I did within a strictly heterosexual context. I am now in a relationship with a woman and quite happy with it. If what I have doesn't last does this mean I will someday find the man who is meant for me? Maybe, maybe not. I'm simply not sure.
I personally identify as pansexual, so I can relate on some level.
I agree about being left out of the GLBTQ community, but at the same time I feel some guilt that I'm even upset about that.
I'm totally not bisexual, but I fully respect your bisexuality. I saw my girlfriend go through a lot of grief coming out as bisexual. Since she'd already been very out as a lesbian, coming out again as dating a guy was a whole new ordeal that she has had to go through over and over again. I have massive respect for her strength in being able to do so.
I personally feel that the view of sexuality on a sliding scale is accurate and bisexuality is really inevitable. Our social constructs make us afraid to step out of a clearly defined space.
As a tragically straight guy, I just want to lend my support.
I can really relate to your post. I easily pass as heterosexual and am not always very happy about it. Sometimes I want to scream out that I am not straight!
You say that your "fondness of men and centerfold-resembling women makes me a joke in the LGBT -- and, in many instances, the feminist -- world." I understand this and can relate but I might suggest that many people would agree that centerfold women are attractive. It's what we've been socialized to think is attractive, just like we are socialized to see value in certain body types etc. As a young woman I found that it was encouraged to read magazines and have feelings of admiration and desire towards these women and their centerfold bodies. Yet it was a desire to be them, not a desire for them that was acceptable. In either situation, however, this centerfold woman's sexuality is admired and desired.
Do you think that your desire for this stereotypically* beautiful, centerfold type of appearance is not also a desire, if not a supressed one, of the LGBT community? I dont think that their being in the LGBT community sheilds them from socialized valuations of certain bodies/looks.
I'd like to shout out to LGBT identified people and hear their thoughts on negotiating with socialized notions of beauty.
I am also wondering more about your ideas of being a "good girl:"
"She invited me up to her place after we gorged on slices and Cokes, but, like any good girl on a first date, I demurely declined"
Is being a "good girl" in a FF relationship different than in a heterosexual one? What is being a "good girl" and how does it conflict with feminist values that reject patriarichal demands of women's sexuality?
*Stereotypical in terms of consumerized beauty in the US today that caters to the male heterosexual gaze.
I'm not sure I really understand this post. Alot of the homosexuals I know - both men and women - are attracted to exactly the same types of bodies/looks are hetersexuals of the opposite sex are.
I.e., the lesbians I know are attracted the same types of women/body types as the straight guys I know.
I do realize this is not neccessarily the norm, as many lesbians are butch, etc. But you make it sound like this is rare. I do not believe it is. If you are attracted to women then it only makes sense you would be attracted to stereotypical attractive women. I mean isn't that the whole point of being homosexual?
I want to start by saying that I agree with you. People I know only rarely recognize that "bi" is a legitimate possibility for a person's true and permanent orientation. Instead, they seem to think--even if they don't realize it--that people who are "bi" are actually gay or straight but don't realize it. I think that's partially because of a scarcity of contemporary role models for bisexuality in later life. It seems that people forget that a bisexual person in a same-sex or opposite-sex relationship is still a bisexual person, no matter how long-term it is. Most of our role models are deceased--Simon de Beuvoir being the most celebrated, I think.
I would like to respectfully ask that you not refer to the "T" in the acronym as "trannies." As a transwoman, I have never heard that word used in a positive context.
While it is true that my pansexual identity is somewhat ignored in the LG community, I should point out that each successive letter in the short acronym--LGBTIQ (the full acronym is over three times as long)--is ignored in the larger community represented by the letters before it, with the exception of L or G. At the national equality march, Transpeople were really treated as a footnote far too much, even though we're starting to become a main paragraph of our own these days. Intersex is even less included, though Transpeople are much more able to relate to our Intersex zisters than Queer cispeople are. At the end, the letter "Q" stands for a concept that even I don't pretend to fully understand, and even fear to an extent.
While it is very admirable that you're able to own your bisexuality, and I want to be clear that I really enjoyed your description of your experience, I think your bisexual identity, and my own pansexual identity, are not really the black sheep of the Queer community, but only of the portion that focuses on orientation.
I have to agree with the "trannies" comment. I cringed at that, too, and I'm a cisgendered female.
I totally identify with your story. I don't think I would label myself as bisexual, because I've always dated men, but, like you, several of my hookups have been with other women. I've always tried (although not succeeded - thank you, absynthe) to avoid kissing another girl in front guys, because I hate the assumption that I'm doing it for THEIR benefit. I'm not. I'm doing it because it's what I want to do - because I find other women attractive, and it's fun.
I hate that girls who kiss girls are party attractions that every horny frat boy wants to get on tape. I can swap spit with a member of the opposite sex at a bar any day, and everyone will shrug and move on. But kiss another girl, and, oh-my-god, the show is starting! Ugh. As a woman, if you don't want disproportionate attention for something everyone assumes you're just doing for show, you have to keep your girl-on-girl fun a big, dirty secret. And that's not right, either.
I'm sorry, but I am confused. Why wouldn't you identify is bi? You said yourself you are attracted to women and have hooked up with them. I hardly think "dating" a girl is a prerequisite to being bisexual.
I totally identify with your story. I don't think I would label myself as bisexual, because I've always dated men, but, like you, several of my hookups have been with other women. I've always tried (although not succeeded - thank you, absynthe) to avoid kissing another girl in front guys, because I hate the assumption that I'm doing it for THEIR benefit. I'm not. I'm doing it because it's what I want to do - because I find other women attractive, and it's fun.
I hate that girls who kiss girls are party attractions that every horny frat boy wants to get on tape. I can swap spit with a member of the opposite sex at a bar any day, and everyone will shrug and move on. But kiss another girl, and, oh-my-god, the show is starting! Ugh. As a woman, if you don't want disproportionate attention for something everyone assumes you're just doing for show, you have to keep your girl-on-girl fun a big, dirty secret. And that's not right, either.
I'm pretty sure there are gloriously out biwomen out there. And they're not "hiding". The less they do, the less it'll be perceived as a problem by those too ashamed to walk the other, non-sunny side of the street.
Aside from your dislike of the term bisexual, your story really resonated with me. As a bi-woman about to get married, I constantly worry about losing my bi-identity. Almost no one I've talked to really understands this; they seem to think that since I've been in a straight relationship for so long I might as well just consider myself straight. But I will always be attracted to women; it is an important part of me and one I never want to lose.
Although I can't truly relate to your bisexual (is there another word you prefer??) experience I noticed the same thing: bisexual orientation is either ignored or trivialized (effectively ignored). For all the stories I see on the news about gay/trans concerns, the only ones I see about bi- concerns are the GGW variety.
I get why bisexuality is difficult to understand. I have a difficult time understanding it - it's one thing to imagine that some girl's sexual orientation steers her towards other girls - after all, that's how guys are, so we are used to that concept. Same goes for gay men - we just assume they have the same orientation as straight women. Bisexuality is entirely different, and has no "parallels" in the traditional sexuality scheme. So this is my take on it. Which, of course, does not make your life any easier.
I have blogged slightly about the fact dating sites don't serve bisexuals. I have no qualms about the word. If we started calling it something else eventually the typical biphobic stereotypes would sully that word too.
I have Asperger's so it's hard for me to fit into any group. I have made good friends in my school's GSA but I hardly go anymore due to schedule conflicts. But that's a separate topic. People in my life don't really say anything biphobic but I've seen tons of BS on the net. Such as a gay man claiming that bisexuals have "taken over television." Which is ridiculos as pretty every "bi" character is just lezploitation. They have a "bi" female character date a girl for like two episodes, they break up and she never dates a girl again.
It's getting late so I'm going to end there for now.
I guess one of my issues with the word "bisexual" is that it implies that there are only two sexes or genders that we can be attracted to, which I totally disagree with. I'm not into that kind of sexual binary. I don't have a better word, though.
I've only ever been with men. Well, actually, one man. I sort of think of myself as bisexual, but I never claim it because I feel like I don't deserve it. I've never dated, slept with, etc a woman. And also, I guess just like everyone else, I'm afraid of what people would think if I claimed that identity.
Pansexual might be a better term if you're looking to acknowledge other genders in your sexual orientation. It's not a very well-known term, but hopefully it will gradually become more mainstream.
Claim away. We don't require a test.
(I've always hated how you supposedly have to 'prove' every other kind of sexuality except straight.)
This is my first posting, so I hope I won't end up treading on anyone's toes; if so, it is inadvertent. I would only say that it was sad to see that the term "bisexual" can have such rotten connotations, though given our society's intolerance of anything different from the majority, it's not surprising.
For me the word is positive - a person able to be attracted to, and to fall in love with, either sex. It doesn't carry the "make up your mind" message at all, for me, nor imply that loving one sex is more or less significant than loving the other. I don't think my view of the word is particularly significant of my background (Australian) because I've no idea how anyone else thinks of it. It just relates to someone I've studied a long time, who loved both men and women; it's just part of who that person was, and I tend to think less of the sexuality involved than whether each love was happy or not.
Hope this isn't too waffly ...
Thank you, thank you, thank you. It's always nice to know that someone else out there understands.
I felt this way for years, and it was so neat to hear that other bisexual girls have felt this. I've recently heard about a couple studies that suggest most women are bisexual (or at least experimental/fluid), and that men generally are either gay or straight (more rigidly defined). I can't find a link right now, but the news made some sense to me, since most women I know are pretty ... open-minded, even if they consider themselves to "actually" be les or het. This study goes into it a little bit, but it actually wasn't the one I was referring to: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,323146,00.html
I've been dating a bisexual guy for the past year and a half. At first it weirded me out dating a guy who likes both guys and girls, but eventually, it helped me come to terms with my own sexuality and how much I let that "show". I've always dressed and acted gender-neutral (occasionally dressing completely as a dude, binding and all ... yet I also own a huge amount of pink clothes and mini-skirts, and I adore make-up), and the boyfriend is verrrryyy gender neutral (make-up, skirts, plus an array of "masculine" clothing). So, not only are our sexualities fluid, our gender presentation is fluid, and of course the gender roles within our relationship are a complete toss-up as well (just as a start, I'm the works-long-hours breadwinner).
As a result, we end up making a lot of people tease us about whether we should really be together. Sometimes it comes off extremely rude (like the people who are trying to "helpfully" inform me that my boy is gay). But we ignore those people. We've ended up with some open-minded and wonderful friends who accept us for the weird couple that we are. :)
I agree with you, it does get frustrating hiding one side and just using the other for social acceptance. When I first told my boyfriend that I was bi-sexual he wouldn't believe me, he said that maybe I was just a lesbian. I get really annoyed by those comments, it is as hard and untruthful as denying that I don't like men and only women, or vice versa.
This article is me! It's as if she wrote it for me! I hope many get that feeling, then I'll know I'm not alone.
I've spent almost 30yrs coming to terms w/this. I like boys. I always have. I like girls. I've also always like them. There isn't a time I can remember otherwise.
I'm at the part where who do I tell. Do I come out? What do I do? I feel so alone and so lost. And if it weren't for one friend who knows and supports me, and articles like this. . . I don't know how I would get through it. So I would like to thank you for this article. Thank you to the women who are commenting and get it!I don't feel as alone as I did even just earlier today!
Thanks OP, and many commenters as well. It's always awesome to know I'm not the only one struggling with being in that "grey" category of sexuality.
As for labels, I used to be totally comfortable saying I was bisexual, but lately something about it just makes me cringe. These days I identify as queer, which I really like, despite the fact that a lot of people outside of my sheltered university bubble are thrown by the term.
Totally relate, as a feminine-presenting bi woman. I have a boyfriend, and I just moved to a new city, so basically everyone except one woman I confided in thinks I'm straight (and says this out loud, on occasion. I haven't had the eggs to correct them). And, while I am not attracted to the "centerfold type," I am attracted to feminine-presenting women. I feel ya on being a "joke" to lesbians. Well, if not a joke, then someone to hook up with and move on. Luckily, though, on the night out I had with one female hook-up, we were not hit on by guys, they just kinda looked uncomfortable/jealous. And a woman started flashing us at a party. WHAT? She maybe thought it was a show that we were making out? I dunno. That's another thing entirely, though, how two women together may make other WOMEN think it's a "show." Sad.
I wonder if you (the OP) has had the following experience: When talking to a lesbian about hooking up with women, the lesbian will invariably declare that she does not like bi girls because they're unpredictable and wishy-washy. Such utter bullshit. I do NOT intend to hate on lesbians with this comment. However, the biphobia in comments like that is as thick as a brick wall. Why can't people of ALL sexual orientations (even some biphobic bi people) grasp how ridiculous the "wishy-washy" accusation is? If I were straight, should my boyfriend not want to date me because I may decide to run off with another man? I date people because I care about who they are as a person and I want to make them happy. This supercedes genital anatomy. It's not as though, were I dating a woman who I loved, I would run away to a man BECAUSE he had a PENIS. If I ran away to a man, it would be because I cared about him more as a PERSON. It's insane.
It is good that you are claiming and owning your identity. Kudos.
"Trannie" is a highly offensive term that some members of the trans community are attempting to reclaim. Unless you identify as trans and are attempting to reclaim it it is not a word you should be using. Ever. It is seriously uncool, and it was jarring to see a word used so often as an insult used casually in the middle of an otherwise excellent piece.
I realize that a lot of people have expressed this, but I am SO HAPPY that you posted this! I'm in the slow, arduous, frustrating, intimidating, and just plain terrifying process of exploring my sexuality and coming out as bi. I feel like a traitor to the LGBT community because I pass all the time (in both ways, one of my recent transgender friends I'm pretty sure thinks I'm a lesbian) and it scares me, but how do you say, "Oh by the way I like girls too" when no one has event broached that subject? Thanks for letting me know I'm not alone :)
I agree with how you feel. I used to identify as bisexual but now label myself as pansexual because I don't think gender has any bearing on my partner preferences.
I'm a very feminine woman who has primarily dated and slept with men in the past. I'm also a sex worker. All of this often makes me feel like a fraud when I get involved with queer projects in the community. In the future I would like to become a counselor for the queer community but I worry that I won't be accepted because I'm not 'properly gay'. As if my sexuality is half-arsed.
This may sound like one of those convoluted "My mom once forgot her check book and couldn't pay for my lunch ticket so I now how it feels to experience classism" type comments but... It's still how I feel.
I originally came out as bi, not because bi is a stepping stone to gay- of course not- but when you are assumed to be straight it sometimes takes some time to get yourself (mentally realizing that you are, that is) to the other end of the spectrum. And as a bi identified person I experienced a lot of bi phobia. Now I identify as a lesbian, so I no longer endure that prejudice (not a factor in the evolution of my identity- for the record) but I guess I really understand, as an ally, how that feels because, misguided or not, I was part of that experience for a time. Being a part of the queer community but also not a part is frustrating and basically double-alienating. I also feel guilty that I propagated the stereotype of bi being a "phase" through my own coming out process. Though, by going through that I think I understand even more clearly that it is NOT a phase or "wishy-washy-ness".
It is frustrating to me how few people are willing to identify as bisexual. Yes, the word has all kinds of stupid associations (and presumes a gender binary), but that's because there's no bi visibility to say otherwise. The term's not widespread enough for me to actually use it, but I always liked the term "byke" - I'm a very dykey bisexual (pansexual if we're having that discussion): I'm married to a woman, I ride a motorcycle, short hair, I'm very androgynous, I identify as butch... but boy do I love me my gay male porn! I was a badass tomboy who didn't want to admit it, but my first crushes were all boys. As I grew older and started dating for real, my relationships were all with women, but I always knew I was bi and always identified as bisexual. Therefore, I had to deal with many, many of those annoying stereotypes myself: I was indecisive, I was really just a lesbian in denial, etc... and so I was often frustrated by people who were so obviously bisexual who refused to call themselves that. It invalidated me and made me invisible. Often, they didn't just validate the stereotypes, they believed them...
And so I say with great enthusiasm, thank you for coming out!!!
You know, I think culture is such a big part of this problem - there is a gay culture and there is a straight culture, but there is no "bisexual" culture. If you want to hang with the lesbians, you feel like an outsider unless you ID that way. If you hang with the straight people, you are some kind of science experiment (if you're lucky enough to be taken seriously at all). You're never "in." I think that's why it's so hard for people to call a spade a spade... Not to mention, as Dan Savage so wonderfully put it, female sexuality tends to slosh around like 5 gallons of water in a 30-gallon bucket. People get confused...
I wonder how much easier things would be if instead of the words "Straight, Bisexual, and Gay", the general understanding of sexuality were more in line with the Kinsey scale... and not just that, but people were more readily inclined to acknowledge the distinction between sexual attraction of romantic attraction.
Maybe it's the statistician in me, but "Kinsey 2 on romance, Kinsey 3 on sexuality" seems so much more precise than "Bi", and "Kinsey 0 on romance, Kinsey 0.5 on sexuality" than "Straight". I also think it's more in line with a worldview that's less black-or-white.
But that's still putting people in boxes, that's just giving people more boxes to choose from.
I think for some people, their sexuality shifts over their life. I think for some people, romance and sexuality cannot be separated as easily as you imply. Any rating scale or label is, necessarily, going to oversimplify things somewhat.
Actually, I'm not even sure if I understand what people mean when they separate Romantic Attraction from Sexual Attraction. To me they are one and the same, but then I separate out Emotional Attraction.
To some extent, I think what needs to change is the cultural attitude that we have to analyze all of this. Why can't we just be human, care for people, and have fun together in whatever ways work for us and don't hurt others?
There are all sorts of different frameworks for understanding sexuality, and debates about when a certain feeling or attraction is "sexual" vs. "just admiration", "experimenting", etc. etc. I think any attempt at all to define sexuality and totally separate it from the rest of our human relationship experiences essentially stems back to a puritan culture.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.
Your post has brought tears to my eyes. It perfectly embodies how I have felt for years, whether it's politically or feminist-ly correct or not... Except I've yet to capture my own bisexuality as successfully as you have yours.
I won't even bother to say more, because I'd just be repeating what you yourself have said but in my own words. Thank you again. Thank you.
Second everyone who cringed at the word "trannies."
I came across this a lot when I was in high school, when I first came out as bisexual. My parents said "You have to pick one or the other!" as well as "Are you over thinking you're gay yet?" And a lot of people seemed to think I was just trying to get attention, because a lot of girls at my high school really did say they were bi to get guys' attention. That made it really hard for me to make people understand I was not in fact straight and trying to get guys to notice me, and I was also not on the "first step to becoming a lesbian."
However, now that I am in college I haven't had much of a problem with this. Of course, the college world isn't exactly like the real world - you are very much in a bubble. But my gay friends here accept me and my identity, and have never given me a hard time about my LGBTIQ activism or said "how can you identify as bi when you've been dating a guy for two years?" (Another thing many people said in high school.)
And that is another part of my identity... I have been dating a man for two years, and plan on marrying him (or rather, plan on boycotting marriage with him.) My identity doesn't change because I love him. I am still who I am. I still care about LGBTIQ rights, I will still fight for them. I won't marry my partner until marriage is an equal right. I don't think I am defined by the gender of the person I am dating.
I understand what a lot of people are saying I mean I'm bisexual but don't find a problem identifying that way never have never probably will. I'd like to give a bit of advise to people, it's not who you are it's not who you like or what gender they are or aren't and it definitely not what people you barley know think. the only people important here are you your friends and your parents and your parents are only with you so long and friends aren't friends if they don't accept something ass simple as this. ever since i came out my philosophy has been I am who I am if you don't like that well you don't have to concern yourself in my life and your obviously too ignorant for me to want you to anyway. lastly if someone says that your not bisexual cause your dating a certain gender well you know what screw them they have no say in that matter.