A Perspective by the Bi
A funny thing happened the year I turned 24: I discovered I felt (quite naturally) attracted to women. Not in the sense that I felt they made wonderful shopping buddies and confidants, but in the sense that they made a wonderful addition to my sex life.
It wasn’t the first time I’d felt that way, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last, but a persistent voice in my head told me to put a lid on the urge. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and stay quiet about this whole thing,” the voice told me.
What was this late-blooming affection for women, anyway? I’m nearly 24, shouldn’t my sexuality be fully informed by now? My inner gay man — the well-adjusted and accepted one — considered the whole thing fashionably late. Throw some glitter on the whole mess and call it an entrance. The rest of my (rattled) psyche wondered if maybe a few wires hadn’t crossed upstairs. It was all eerily reminiscent of that tearful grade-school conversation I’d had with my mother: coming out.
The whole idea of a “second coming” was terrifying. Wasn’t the first time difficult enough? It felt like that rock I’d been pushing up the hill my entire life had rolled right over me. I sat on my thoughts for some time. Otherwise completely confident in every area of my life, I was mostly perturbed by this inclination to conceal any piece of myself. What gives? What’s the big deal? Who really cares, anyway?
As it happens, a lot of people care (and everyone has their opinion). Bisexuals, like unicorns, are given the same treatment as folklore or urban legends. Gay men will give you side-eye, drag queens will give you side-eye, and women will wonder if you’re capable of committing to anything beyond a cell-phone plan.
The truth of the matter is, most gay men act like four year olds when discussing women. They scrunch up their faces and wrinkle their noses talking about roast-beef, fish, and the need for more marinara sauce at the clambake. Personally, the majority of gay men I’ve met are more misogynistic than any heterosexual guy could ever reasonably be.
In fact, during a recent conversation with some friends, more than one brandished their air quotes. You know, “bisexual.” On the path to full sexual liberation, more than one gay man has claimed to be bisexual to escape the full wrath of family and friends. On that note, it’s also interesting how many male celebrities cite their bisexuality trying to make their star shine a little brighter in the public eye (or perhaps when it isn’t shining as brightly as it once did).
Still, the need to unbox my feelings was almost stifling. Having felt normalized for years in my identity, I suddenly felt typecast in my own life. There was this upwelling need to correct people who sort of offhandedly bemoaned, “Gosh, what a pity you’re only into guys.” Whoa. Hold the phone, how do you know me so well? Yet, that’s part of the whole equation — the ease of assuming some (or all) of a person’s identity by their sexual orientation and public presentation.
The truth of the matter is, most gay men act like four year olds when discussing women. They scrunch up their faces and wrinkle their noses talking about roast-beef, fish, and the need for more marinara sauce at the clambake. Personally, the majority of gay men I’ve met are more misogynistic than any heterosexual guy could ever reasonably be.
They say, and do, things to women that heterosexual men would (quite literally) get beaten for — and they get away with it. Especially in gay clubs.
With startling regularity, it isn’t merely okay for the GBF (gay best friend) to fondle the nearest pair of breasts, he’s also berating how women around him look, what they’re wearing, and how much “work” they need done to look more beautiful. Gay men, who typically honor the powerful female, tend to degrade the ordinary ones doing their best to make it day by day.
Ironically, women tend to extol the ease of being in a gay bar. “I never feel like I’m going to get harassed here. It’s so much better than going to my local bar,” she’ll say. In a single sentence, a woman can neutralize male sexuality while simultaneously making it impossible for men to approach her without betraying that sense of safety.
Worse than a fear of rejection, bisexuals confront the risk of total sexual marginalization.
“You’re just confused! It’s fine, go find a cute guy and say hello,” someone will (inevitably) suggest. Yet that isn’t really the way it works, is it? Can’t a person conceivably enjoy men, enjoy women, or enjoy both (and call it a great weekend)? I’m certainly not confused, and I’d hope the vast majority of other men and women out there aren’t either. Even so, people who progress to heterosexual relationships will have merely “gone through a phase” while people who wind up in same-sex relationships were “gay all along.”
Most at risk seems to be one’s masculinity. Why do so many men, gay and straight, look down on bisexual men? I’d like to suggest it’s poor understanding on behalf of both parties: heterosexual men will never understand attraction to another man, while gay men will never understand a man’s attraction to another woman. As for the ladies, do women actually think less of bisexual men, or is it one of their biggest fantasies? Our friends at PornHub tell us the number one thing women search for is (you got it) gay porn. Finally, a bright spot.
If we take away anything from all of this, it’s that the mental health of bisexual men and women is deeply affected by all these (very confusing) feelings. Bisexual men (specifically), have a suicide rate twice as high as gay men, and increased incidences of anxiety, substance abuse, and depression when compared to their gay counterparts.
When we think about all the alphabet soup we’ve concocted over the years, it’s vitally important we never overlook (or marginalize) the ‘B’ in LGBT.
It’s a real thing.
No, really.
