Sex-Positivity – Self-Love – Starting the Revolution
If there’s one thing I hate to say in a personal bio, it’s this: “I’m bisexual.”
I hate to say it not because I’m ashamed of it, although I certainly was for years. I was sure of my sexuality for four years before I actually came out the first semester of freshman year. I hate to say it because of the inevitable confusion and explanation. So here it is, readers, my point for the day: bisexuality is a real thing, and it’s a wonderful thing.
Bisexuality evokes a surprisingly skeptical reaction from the queer and straight communities alike, doubted by hordes of people who seem to think that bisexuality is another word for “undecided” or even for just “gay.”
It’s not. Bisexuality is just that: bisexuality.
Don’t go to a dictionary for a definition, if you don’t really understand. According to Merriam-Webster, bisexual means “of, relating to, or characterized by a tendency to direct sexual desire toward both sexes.” Personally, I hate this definition and the way it seems to assign conscious agency to my sex drive. “Direct sexual desire?” Since when was desire something that could direct itself?
Don’t have a clear idea of it yet? Bisexuality usually means this: having feelings of sexual attraction to both men and women.
For the record, I don’t like women because guys think it’s hot, and I don’t like men because I’m afraid to be lesbian. My bisexuality is not a performance, and it’s certainly not a “phase” I’m going through in college. Is it really so hard to believe that I could be attracted to both ladies AND gentlemen?
Yes, Katy Perry, I kissed a girl, and I liked it. But it didn’t feel wrong in any way, and I certainly wasn’t worried about my boyfriend’s reaction, primarily because I don’t believe in making out with anyone while in a relationship, regardless of gender. More importantly, I wasn’t kissing a girl “just to try it.” Singers like Perry encourage a dominant cultural belief that girl-on-girl sex is a super-hot construct that is incomplete without the entrance of a third character, the heterosexual man. Yes, it’s super-hot. But women who have sex with women are not doing so to attract a third male participant or observer: they’re doing it because it’s sexy and fun and because they’re attracted to each other.
And the idea that bisexuality is just a transitional phase that eventually leads to lesbianism? It’s ridiculous. The idea that I would ever not be attracted to men is absolutely foreign to me—but so is the idea of not being attracted to women.
Is gender really such a defining characteristic that bisexuality is inconceivable? Girls and boys, you’re not that different. Bodily differences exist, but they don’t control forces of biological attraction. Besides, why discriminate? Boobs are great, yeah, but so are well-defined pecs. Why pick when they’re both so completely fabulous?
Don’t make me choose. Stop telling me to pick between the genders. This misconception that I don’t know my real sexual orientation is personally frustrating and hurtful, and it has damaged opportunities with both men and women who think that I’m undecided and will eventually leave them for the other gender.
All I’m asking is for a little bit of room to define myself, and for people to believe my definition. We bisexual women are not going through a “phase,” we’re not secretly straight or lesbian, and we’re certainly not interested in faking interest in women for the pornographic entertainment of men.
I kissed a girl, AND a boy, and I liked both. I can’t help it, and I wouldn’t change it even if I could.