Then I started thinking about it a little- not that I don't ponder queer issues every day of my life, but this convo incited some deeper thoughts about sexual identity and fluidity.
I've never not known that I was attracted to girls and guys. If this is news to you, well, surprise. Anyway, like, it wasn't even something I ever questioned, and it's never been something I've struggled with. I never had the painful, soul-searching dilemma that a lot of kids have when they go through that realization, so it's not that I didn't come out earlier because I was scared- I just didn't care. The first year of college was technically when I came out and faced all the real issues that come along with this, but the only time I ever felt any sort of struggle is when people questioned that I was queer at all.
In lieu of explaining the complexities of my sexuality, I often straight-up just said I was gay as hell to avoid further questions. Because, and I think this is something that few people understand, there really is some kind of struggle with being bisexual (or pansexual, if that's how you'd like to define yourself) in that no matter which gender you are dating, which group you're in, people will always question that you're actually who you say you are.
This is the issue I have with ~society~: the image associated with bisexuality is one of a promiscuous college girl who makes out with her best friend for attention, of someone who is looking to experiment, a porn actress, or someone who has one toe out of the closet and is terrified to open the door all the way.
My freshman year roommate in college (that whole experience is an incredible story that I can't wait to blog about someday- ever seen The Roommate? It was like that, minus the kitten slaughtering) would often tell me that I had to choose: "You can't have both, Maria. You have to pick a side. I don't want to have to compete with you." Although I can now see the logical fallacies in that argument and have the common sense to ask, "Oh really? Who says?", back then, it bothered me a great deal and gave me a lot of anxiety. I had multiple friends make the same sort of accusation to me again and again, despite the fact that throughout the years I have dated men and women and had equally fulfilling relationships with both.
Unfortunately, this dilemma was often present within these relationships as well. My girlfriends would accuse me of being straight. My boyfriends have always joked that I'm really a lesbian. It has taken a lot of patient explaining on my part to get past these issues. I have had serious, often intense relationships with girls and guys, and when I look back on my experiences with these people, the idea that they were either heterosexual or homosexual relationships rarely crosses my mind- they were just people, and I felt some kind of way about them.
I love my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean that I'm no longer attracted to girls, that I don't appreciate them. And that there doesn't mean that I'm looking to go out and find a girl to meet whatever emotional or whatever sort of needs can't be met by a man- I think the argument that bisexuals are always missing something in their relationships is lazy. It implies that someone of one gender cannot be sexually or romantically as fulfilling as the other, and reduces bisexual individuals to people who are focused only on sex in their pursuit of a partner. It reinforces an idea that queer people already try so hard to dispel- that one can only be satisfied by someone of the opposite sex, or that there is only one right way to experience intimacy with another person, or that identities are ironclad into two separate categories: gay or straight. This is especially troubling when it comes from within the LGBTQ community. When someone finds out you are bisexual, the assumption is often that you are not queer "enough."
I think bi erasure is a problem that isn't discussed as much as it should be in queer circles. Just because I'm dating a man doesn't mean I'm a hundred percent straight. And when I'm with a woman, that doesn't mean I'm entirely a lesbian. I think sexuality is fluid, and I fall in love with someone based on who they are as a person. I'm never looking to date a girl, or find a man; if it happens, it happens. I have always been a hundred percent fine with my sexuality, and I've never let societal standards hold me back from loving who I want to, so I don't think anyone else should either. That's something I felt the need to clarify, for whoever still holds any sort of biphobic sentiments as gospel. It's just something to consider. We've come pretty far, but I hope that soon, all queer identities are treated equally and accepted by everyone.
