On Being Bi

You’re either gay, straight or lying

My first time kissing a guy was at a christian rock concert.

It was a terrible kiss. Sloppy, with plenty of tongue swashing around. Besides my profound disgust with the actual mechanics of the kiss, I was left with no emotional attachment towards it. My existential crisis never came, which was a disappointment, as that would have made for excellent traffic whoring material.

As the years wore on, I was in and out of various relationships. All of them with women. During those times, I never thought of dating a dude. I had a weakness for those who featured six-packs and a beard (why not me!), but I also developed a knack for creepin’ on chicks with twerkable qualities.

It wasn’t until my first serious relationship ended abruptly that I explored my interest in guys. Truth be told, it wasn’t a glamorous path to self-discovery. I was unemployed and single, so I spent a majority of that time drinking, smoking, and marathon weeping during How I Met Your Mother.

Since that time, I have just about fully explored my interest in men, and I am comfortably single and open to get into a relationship with a man or woman. While you’d think it would be enough that I was comfortable, the world holds quite a difference in opinion.

Amongst the gays, I am in denial. Kicking the closet door just hard enough to let a little bit of the freak out. For my less aware straight male friends, I was suddenly a creature that exclusively craved their bodies. Because, you know, I’m immediately attracted to every guy friend I have. As for the ladies, I was gay, and they wanted to take me out shopping. Yup.

Point is, people didn’t seem to get that I like… well… people.

I am not sure why this is so complicated to understand. There are a lot of beautiful people in this world, and I just so happen to be open to what each sex has to offer.

But I suppose critical thought on this matter is unnecessary if you only see the world in black and white.