By Meli Paulson, Contributor, Emerson College
Tom Daley, an Olympic athlete, recently came out in a video. He mentioned he had a boyfriend, even though he’d only ever dated girls before. Despite the fact that he stated that he was still attracted to girls, the media instantly assumed he was coming out as gay. This issue is known as bisexual erasure, and it happens all too frequently. 15% of people don’t even think bisexuality exists. To combat this, and also to mock the media for misinterpreting Tom’s sexuality, the hashtag #bisexualfacts was created. Some #bisexualfacts include “Shrodinger’s cat is both gay, straight, and bisexual. And it’s not,” “Bisexuals are the only people who can like star wars and star trek equally,” and “Bisexuals are a compound created by a homosexual into a monosexual solvent.” As amusing as they are, these facts call to mind an important issue: a lot of people have misguided opinions about bisexuality including: bisexuals are traitors to gay/ straight/ trans people. Bisexuals are naturally nonmonogamous or “greedy.” And finally, most erroneously, that bisexuality is a choice.
Bisexualfact: I’ve known I was bisexual since I was 13. Sure, I had crushes on boys like all the other girls (to be honest, I had a crush on almost every boy in my seventh grade class) but I stared at girls a little bit too long in the hallways. They noticed, and called me a lesbian, gay, or queer as often as they called me by my name. So I learned to hide it. To not stare too long at my best friend, even though she looked extra pretty in that new sweater. To refuse to answer the question of which of my friends I’d make out with at sleepover games of truth or dare because “that’s disgusting. I only like boys.”
Bisexualfact: this game lasted as long as it took to I fall in love with my best friend freshman year of high school. She would ask me which boys I liked, but all I could think about was her smile. But I never admitted my feelings to her. She found out by snooping on my computer and discovering all the “am I bisexual?” quizzes I’d taken.
“I think I’m the same way,” she admitted. It was a relief to learn that I wasn’t the only one. She opened up a whole new world for me, one I’d previously kept confined to the depths of my chest and the back of my throat. My sexuality was my secret. My burden. She was the cure. Our relationship didn’t work out, but I had crushes on several other people of various genders throughout high school, including a trans guy. Gender has never been a factor for me when it comes to attraction. That’s the reason I also identify as pansexual. I still use the label bisexual, though. It’s more easily accessible to the mainstream (read: straight) society, and I just like it better. I’ve been identifying as bisexual almost my entire life, and I’m not going to change that label anytime soon.
When I went to college, I started dating a boy in the first week. This was new for me. It was also weird going to LGBT events and talking about him; I had the feeling people thought I was just another straight ally who didn’t belong. At the same time, I worried that I wasn’t straight enough for my boyfriend either. This insecurity was brought on by the time he asked he asked me if I’d rather have sex with a really hot guy or a really hot girl. Bisexualfact: I still don’t know the answer to this question.
Last April, I tallied up a score the score for my gay side when I asked a girl I was dating to be my girlfriend. Having a girlfriend was amazing, but really difficult in a way that having a boyfriend isn’t. I wouldn’t think twice about holding your boyfriend’s hand in public or kissing him on the street corner. But when I did the same thing with my girlfriend we received looks, wolf whistles, and sometimes even catcalls.
“Sexy.”
“Do it again.”
We would flip them off and yelled curses back. “We’re not here for your stupid fucking masturbatory fantasies. We’re just two people in love who happen to both have vaginas,” I wanted to tell them. Instead I just felt dirty and ashamed. Objectification has that effect on people: it makes them feel like an active participant in their own violation.
My girlfriend had a boyfriend. She was polyamorous. I wasn’t. To retaliate, I started hooking up with a guy who was also bi. He’d never told anyone before me about that side of him, so I felt special. But he was only into guys for the sex because “dudes think with their dicks.” Hooking up with him didn't erase the burning jealousy I felt at the thought of my girlfriend sleeping with another person.
“We’re living the cliché,” I told her. “You know, the belief that bi girls can’t be faithful to just one gender.” I don’t remember what she said in response to that. She should have told me that I was an idiot, and that bisexuality and polyamory are two completely different identities that sometimes happen to intersect. But she didn’t. I broke up with her shortly afterwards.
“You should just stick to girls,” the bi guy I hooked up with told me recently. “Men are assholes.” He must have thought it’s that easy. After all, he never had to make the choice, having been only romantically attracted to girls. But for me, it’s not a choice. It never has been. Bisexualfact: This is my life. And I can never change it. I can never choose between genders and, quite frankly, I don’t see why I would want to. No matter what anyone thinks about me or my life, it’s my choice to live it how I see fit, to love whoever is worthy of my love, regardless of their gender. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Image: http://sometimesmagical.files.wordpress.com
Bisexualfact: I’ve known I was bisexual since I was 13. Sure, I had crushes on boys like all the other girls (to be honest, I had a crush on almost every boy in my seventh grade class) but I stared at girls a little bit too long in the hallways. They noticed, and called me a lesbian, gay, or queer as often as they called me by my name. So I learned to hide it. To not stare too long at my best friend, even though she looked extra pretty in that new sweater. To refuse to answer the question of which of my friends I’d make out with at sleepover games of truth or dare because “that’s disgusting. I only like boys.”
Bisexualfact: this game lasted as long as it took to I fall in love with my best friend freshman year of high school. She would ask me which boys I liked, but all I could think about was her smile. But I never admitted my feelings to her. She found out by snooping on my computer and discovering all the “am I bisexual?” quizzes I’d taken.
“I think I’m the same way,” she admitted. It was a relief to learn that I wasn’t the only one. She opened up a whole new world for me, one I’d previously kept confined to the depths of my chest and the back of my throat. My sexuality was my secret. My burden. She was the cure. Our relationship didn’t work out, but I had crushes on several other people of various genders throughout high school, including a trans guy. Gender has never been a factor for me when it comes to attraction. That’s the reason I also identify as pansexual. I still use the label bisexual, though. It’s more easily accessible to the mainstream (read: straight) society, and I just like it better. I’ve been identifying as bisexual almost my entire life, and I’m not going to change that label anytime soon.
When I went to college, I started dating a boy in the first week. This was new for me. It was also weird going to LGBT events and talking about him; I had the feeling people thought I was just another straight ally who didn’t belong. At the same time, I worried that I wasn’t straight enough for my boyfriend either. This insecurity was brought on by the time he asked he asked me if I’d rather have sex with a really hot guy or a really hot girl. Bisexualfact: I still don’t know the answer to this question.
Last April, I tallied up a score the score for my gay side when I asked a girl I was dating to be my girlfriend. Having a girlfriend was amazing, but really difficult in a way that having a boyfriend isn’t. I wouldn’t think twice about holding your boyfriend’s hand in public or kissing him on the street corner. But when I did the same thing with my girlfriend we received looks, wolf whistles, and sometimes even catcalls.
“Sexy.”
“Do it again.”
We would flip them off and yelled curses back. “We’re not here for your stupid fucking masturbatory fantasies. We’re just two people in love who happen to both have vaginas,” I wanted to tell them. Instead I just felt dirty and ashamed. Objectification has that effect on people: it makes them feel like an active participant in their own violation.
My girlfriend had a boyfriend. She was polyamorous. I wasn’t. To retaliate, I started hooking up with a guy who was also bi. He’d never told anyone before me about that side of him, so I felt special. But he was only into guys for the sex because “dudes think with their dicks.” Hooking up with him didn't erase the burning jealousy I felt at the thought of my girlfriend sleeping with another person.
“We’re living the cliché,” I told her. “You know, the belief that bi girls can’t be faithful to just one gender.” I don’t remember what she said in response to that. She should have told me that I was an idiot, and that bisexuality and polyamory are two completely different identities that sometimes happen to intersect. But she didn’t. I broke up with her shortly afterwards.
“You should just stick to girls,” the bi guy I hooked up with told me recently. “Men are assholes.” He must have thought it’s that easy. After all, he never had to make the choice, having been only romantically attracted to girls. But for me, it’s not a choice. It never has been. Bisexualfact: This is my life. And I can never change it. I can never choose between genders and, quite frankly, I don’t see why I would want to. No matter what anyone thinks about me or my life, it’s my choice to live it how I see fit, to love whoever is worthy of my love, regardless of their gender. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Image: http://sometimesmagical.files.wordpress.com