It’s easy to get away with being invisible. I can hide in the crowd without suspicion, but I lie about who I am when asked. I’m invisible to others but fully reflective when I see myself in the mirror.

…How cheesy of me to start a post with such vague details, to try to grab your attention, to get you interested. The mystique of the unknown, human curiosity, blah blah blah. I suppose it works…but it’s actually how I see myself. And how other invisible men might see themselves.

By being invisible I mean that I’m Bisexual. *loud gasp from the audience*

“He’s confused. It’s a phase. He’s gay.”… I’ll spare the lengthy discussion that creates, and gently point out that I’m none of those things. I’m a third thing. And I love being that third thing. I feel like I have sexual orientation Tetrachromacy. I get a bonus level in life. Access to more flavors than the average person. Analogy, analogy…

I recently came up with this term, being invisible, to describe my relationship with being bisexual. Being invisible is a loaded term, with lots of negative associations. And I use it to negatively describe being bi.

“But you like, literally just said you love being Bisexual, like two seconds ago…” I do love it. And I’m getting to learn to love it more each and every day. But it hasn’t come without struggle.

I’m invisible because I don’t have to fake being interested in women. I can talk to my friends about women. Talk about women I’m dating. Women I’d like to date. Talk about things I’d like to do with women. Just as any other heterosexual guy with his buddies would. And it’s why you may never know what men around you are invisible. They don’t have to fake being attracted to women, but you wouldn’t know they’re also interested in men.

The feelings I have towards men are so deeply ingrained in who I am but I hide that person on a daily basis by not telling people, or by not showing interest in men. I do it because as cheesy as it sounds, I don’t like being labeled because…

I go to a breakfast spot nearly every morning. I’ve become really friendly with the small crew who run the spot. We’ve talked about (heterosexual) dating in the past, but recently one of the waitresses randomly asked me “Are you Gay?” I gulped, smiled and as a blackhole developed in my stomach replied “No, I’m straight.” Turns out she was just on a “I want a gay friend” binge and it wasn’t specific to me.

But I’ve been asked this a few times by girls I’ve dated or been on dates with. And I always tell them I’m straight (my stomach sinks every time.) They clearly know I’m interested in them, so I can get away with lying and continue being invisible.

But it hurts.

Being invisible doesn’t feel good. I feel constricted. The air is harder to breathe. My chest is heavier.

I’m not as happy.

When I told a friend’s wife, she said “I knew there was something about you but I couldn’t put my finger on it.” Another girl, whom I met in LA, after telling her told me “I knew the minute I met you.” A girl I was on a date with casually asked if I was bisexual. Another person I went on a date with said “You’re bisexual, right?” A girl I dated, after breaking it off, asked if I was bisexual. And even after denying it she didn’t really believe me.

It bothers me that other people, women mostly, can know something so personal about me without telling them. I hide it because I don’t think women would want to date me if they know. That they wouldn’t want to be intimate with a man who’s been intimate with other men.

And it’s sort of a dilemma. I don’t like being invisible because hiding it is painful, I’m not free to be myself, but I also don’t want people to know I’m invisible unless I tell them, because I’m much more than a label.

But maybe I’m not so invisible after all.