Blending Within: Why I’m Coming Out as Bisexual
When I was little, I had a Barbie and a Max Steel doll. I vividly remember nurturing a concoction of admiration for both of them, almost as if I wanted to be with them or be them at the same time and all the time. Quite recently I came to realize what those feelings indicated about my sexuality. As someone from a heavily Catholic and Christian family, sexuality, or indeed any sort of self-exploration that deviated from biblical and traditional norms, was frowned upon and quickly shut down.
Like every queer kid, I became aware of being different or being othered when secondary school started -- a phase where sexuality and matters related to it, whether one likes it or not, start to manifest in one’s live. Right after my 16th birthday, I met a boy who was a schoolmate of one of my childhood best friends. Up until that December night, I would only feel attracted to girls. As a quite lovable and spontaneous child, I’d buy them sweets, write letters, and arrange meetings before curfew just so we could call each other at midnight right after we got home. Boys were only ever perceived as mates, but during my last school years I became close with the aforementioned lad and started involuntarily questioning the feelings seething beneath the poor facade I’d try to perform when I was in his presence and in the presence of others...a facade we would nowadays define as internalised toxic masculinity.
I recall dexterously trying to muffle the sounds of my feelings, even though they longed to be listened to and understood by me. I would have inner conversations confronting myself and foraging for answers as to why I was feeling attraction towards someone of the same gender as me after almost two decades of no indication of same sex attraction whatsoever. Don’t get me wrong, I was always supportive of the LGBTQ+ community and had never, fortunately, held any prejudices against its members, but I had no idea of the hurdles queer people faced, let alone believed myself to be a member. Due to a lack of proper representation, in regards to my sexuality, I only understood heterosexuality and homosexuality to be the possible paths to pace in one’s romantic and sexual life. Bisexuality wasn’t even in the cards for me, as there was no such a thing as liking girls, boys, and non-binary people.
Eventually, after much brooding, I came out as gay as soon as I graduated and had a general positive response from those close to me. In my puzzled mind, I’d believe that if I was attracted to men then I could only be gay from that point on. I didn’t want to cause a fuss and perplex others due to my “indecisiveness”, a term often applied to bisexual people. This mindset unfortunately propelled me to emotional and psychological self-loathing and shame. As the idea of bisexuality was always discredited in the space I shared with both queer and straight people, I would never manifest my possible attractions towards women, given that being gay became part of my personality and how people identified me, whether I wanted it to or not. Whenever bisexuality was brought up in a conversation I partook in, people who identified themselves as such were often perceived as untrustworthy. In an endeavour to be accepted in the new community I had just landed on, I presented myself as gay. I just wanted to blend in.
When I’d disclose my distant relationships or feelings towards girls during adolescence, it was made fun of for what myself and others percieved as a guise to hide that I was gay. “You could never be bisexual,” an acquaintance once commented in regards to me not being “manly enough” to be straight. Only recently definitions of masculinity associated with heterosexuality started to be questioned. In modern society, certain traits are still expected to correlate with gay and straight men, such as flamboyance for the former and brashness and emotional distance for the latter. When others evaluated me in terms of my demeanour and countenance, I never seemed to be the stereotype of someone who would be capable of attracting a woman or vice versa. Having to cohabitate with these ideals being propelled from both straight and queer people, similarly to everyone who has ever been in a position of facing blunt prejudice, I’d laugh it off and take it as pure banter. Only later would I digest the bitterness left in my mouth. I was in the cross pathof what people understood to be gay and straight...a definition not properly embraced given that I’m neither or both.
When I question why bisexuality is also a hard concept to be accepted by the queer community, I can only pinpoint privilege as the reason why some individuals in the LGBTQ+ community find bisexuals not worthy of being welcomed in queer spaces. I understand this concern, but nevertheless refute it. Being a binary bisexual always comes with the advantage of passing as straight when one’s partner is of the opposite sex, something I fully recognized that some of my other queer peers might not experience depending on their gender expression and sexuality. Yet, it must be stated: just because one group faces more discrimination it doesn’t mean the other does not face difficulties of their own as well. Regardless of the pain, it's not up for debate whose pain is the greatest or more valid when it comes to the desire of being respected or loved, as these feelings derive from the same core...one every member of the LGBTQ+ community is much acquainted with. Yet, that doesn’t mean we can’t recognize our specific struggles and needs.
The fear of telling your possible partner about your sexuality, the constant self-doubt and self-effacement, the criticism from many directions for “not picking a side”, the comments from others invalidating your sexuality, and the shame in feeling not fully part of the queer community are just a few instances of marginalization that bisexual people encounter. According to research from 2019 by leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention to LGBTQ+ people, The Trevor Project, half of bisexual youth seriously considered suicide in 2019. 66% of bisexual youth reported feeling sad or hopeless for two or more weeks compared to 27% of their heterosexual peers and 49% of their gay/lesbian ones. Additionally, more than one in three bisexual youth reported being bullied at school, and one in five bisexual youth reported being forced to have sexual intercourse to prove that they were bisexuals. Furthermore, 48% of bisexual youth have seriously considered suicide, 40% have made a plan for how they would attempt suicide, and 27% have attempted suicide.
I was once part of this alarming data due to a lack of support and understanding from both queer and straight people. After almost 23 years of life, I’m finally accepting and sharing my bisexuality with the world; even though I don't really like it. In an ideal world labelling one’s love and sexual lust wouldn't have to exist, as we all share the same feelings and sensations. But as we are so far from living without overall prejudices in regards to the freeing spectrum of sexuality and gender identification, I embrace the bisexual label as a mark of identification with pride. More bisexual people need to create a sense of community and affirmative spaces. We should no longer erase ourselves like I did for almost 23 years up to the date of the publication of this piece. As precisely stated by actress Tommy Dorfman in a new piece for TIME Magazine letting the world know about her “reintroduction” as a trans woman -- “it’s funny to think about coming out, because I haven’t gone anywhere.”
As a friend of mine once said to me -- “bisexuality might be the bridge to some people, but for others, it is the full stop.” In this final spot, I learn there’s no need to live by false pretences of the ideal masculine nor the ideal queer character, and no need to prove to acquaintances or possible partners that I’m straight or gay, depending on their gender expression and their expectations set upon me as a man. No more role playing; I gracefully choose to bow out.
Ironically, in a world where a bi-perspective that crosses gender and sexuality is being questioned, I’ve come out as bisexual. I know my attraction goes beyond men and women as the gender expression scope widens far more than just the two genders. Some might then classify me as pansexual and not bisexual, as the ‘bi’ suffix would indicate an attraction towards men and women, exclusively. As both pansexuality and bisexuality overlap each other depending on one’s interpretation (and in my case, depending on who I’m talking about my sexuality with when clarification is needed) the way I choose to see it is as follows: I might love a guy, but I might love a person of any other gender that isn’t the same as mine (male identifying) as well. In all honesty, I use both terms interchangeably.
Sometimes I wonder what our understanding of love and attraction would be if gender didn’t exist at all. From now on, I can truly start my journey to learn to love myself unashamedly and accept being loved in return as well.
RESOURCES:
How to support bisexual youth:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/how-to-support-bisexual-youth/
Understanding Bisexuality:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/trvr_support_center/bisexual/
If you need any help don’t hesitate to contact The Trevor Project’s emotional and psychological support platforms:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/get-help-now/
Research mentioned in this publication:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/2019/03/26/research-brief-bisexual-youth-experience/