Neither a 0 or a 6 (an essay on bisexuality)

When we’re little, we’re told that someday we’ll grow up and fall in love. If we’re lucky, our parents tell us that it’ll be a man or a woman and whether we turn our gay or straight, they’ll love us no matter what. But those are our only options. No one says to their 4 year old, ‘You can fall in love with a prince AND a princess.’ It’s always one or the other. Because of this relentless message that we have to choose, it becomes extraordinarily difficult if you’re anything other than a 0 or a 6. You’re taught that you have to either ignore a part of who you are or be constantly misunderstood and marginalized.

Growing up, I saw my parents in a heterosexual relationship. My sisters dated boys. All of our family friends were paired up one man and one woman. The only role models I had for relationships were in exclusively heterosexual relationships. I thought, this is how it’s supposed to be, if you’re a woman you fall in love with a man and that’s it.

The first bisexual person I met was sleeping with approximately half the marching band. All through middle and high school, when I started wondering, every person I saw who was bi was so far from me that I didn’t even think to identify with them. I just thought that this must be how everyone was, since no one talked about it. It must not be that it is anything worth even mentioning, and therefore I should just learn how to deal with it.

I feel that there’s such a lack of bisexual role models and that presents a lot of problems for bisexual and questioning youth. We have no role models available. There’s no one in our communities who we can look at and see ourselves in. This combines with the biphobia present in both straight and gay communities and creates an environment where people are trying to figure out who they are and have no one to guide them. Most people are simply uncomfortable talking about bisexuality. It’s poorly understood and I honestly believe that there are some people who use the title of ‘bisexual’ to excuse promiscuity.

For me, I was unable to even begin to figure out what to label myself as for a long time. At first, I thought I must be straight because everyone else I knew was straight and I was obviously just like them. The first bisexual people I met were so far removed from me that I didn’t even consider putting myself in the same category as them. It wasn’t until I met someone in college, someone who was in a monogamous relationship, who was smart, normal- someone like me- that I could begin to figure it out. It took me months of ignoring my thoughts, going back and forth in my head, feeling like I was going crazy before I could even say the words to myself. I was embarrassed. I couldn’t believe that it was my senior year of college and I was trying to figure out if the reason I was feeling this way was because I also liked girls. I thought everyone figured this out when they were teenagers, not almost adults. Nearly six months after I first started seriously thinking about it, I first said the words “I’m bisexual” out loud on a call to the Trevor Project. When I came out to my friend, the first person I actually knew that I came out to, I sat on her bed for three hours before I could even say a word. In many ways, it was so hard to actually get those words out because the message I got from the world said if it’s bad to be gay, it’s twice as bad to be bi. I heard that I should just suck it up and pick one, that I wasn’t gay enough to be gay but too gay to be straight. I honestly felt like there was no way to win.

Thankfully all my friends have been incredibly supportive, with amusing but entirely supportive reactions. They all told me that this was who I am and their love for me was not dependent on who I dated. I got a lot of hugs and even one offer to explain how it worked with girls (I gratefully declined that until it had the possibility of becoming necessary). I’ve been lucky enough to have great reactions from everyone I’ve come out to. But the struggle that I went through should not even exist for people who are questioning. We shouldn’t have to worry about whether our straight and our gay friends will accept us. We shouldn’t face discrimination from the one community that we fit into. Of all people, the LGT community should know that you can’t choose who you love and not judge anyone based on that. Coming out is scary, no matter what. I’m still not out to my family, in large part because I still remember my mother saying that she doesn’t believe in bisexuality. But we shouldn’t be afraid to stand up and announce to the world that we’re bisexual, no matter who their partner is. Although I honestly don’t believe that sexuality should have any bearing on how we treat people, we shouldn’t feel like we have to hide it and we should be able to provide our youth with strong role models.