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Stand Bi Me

A Story with a Soundtrack

By Dani BananiPublished 3 years ago 13 min read
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Stand Bi Me
Photo by Jeff Tumale on Unsplash

I'll never forget how jarring it was to face the reality that I was feeling an attraction to more than just boys in my school.

We all have the shared experience of discovering unfavorable things about ourselves during puberty. Hair can grow in places you weren’t expecting, acne may or may not assault your youthful skin, emotions snap into other ones on a whim, and last but not least, finding yourself reacting to the gender spectrum with unexpected sensations that are extremely confusing.

Maybe that last one isn’t something that happens to everyone, but it definitely happened to me. The realization that I was bisexual impacted me like a sack of bricks right to the gut, and I spent a long time frantically trying to reason with myself before I gave up and accepted that I just liked who I liked. Once I did that, I found safe people to be honest with and actually found support, which carried me through my teenage years into adulthood.

Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" was the first song I ever heard that made my heart leap in excitement. I can remember so clearly hearing the lyrics and thinking, "Holy crap, I feel so represented right now." It was a fun, bouncy song that appealed to my youthful nature and made me want to hop up and down while screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs. Cherry chapstick is pretty fantastic, after all.

My interests in expanding beyond the norm grew into my early twenties, along with the internal comfort of knowing who I really was and being okay with it. I experienced polyamorous relationships, where I’d have a boyfriend and a girlfriend at the same time (both would be aware and agree to the situation.) I even dated a man who had a boyfriend while I had a girlfriend. During my first/only marriage, we experimented with swinging. I was allowed a lot of freedom to explore how I felt with women as I primarily dated men, but after a while, the jealousy would rear its ugly head like a vicious dragon and breathe flames all over the contentment I’d found with sharing my love. I backed up on the idea and stayed single more often than not, hoping to just enjoy myself with people while not having to deal with commitment issues I was having.

My Darkest Days has a song called Porn Star Dancing that speaks to me in so many ways as a bisexual woman who loves to have fun and break all the rules. It's one of those songs you could dance sensually on a pole to or sit at the table and enjoy your drink while hearing it play.

It eventually dawned on me that their jealousy could easily be me at any point, although I hadn’t struggled with it yet. I knew the only way to learn more would be by connecting with others who have shared themselves and overcome some of the ugliest human emotions in order to expand upon unique experiences with other beautiful humans. I had two best friends who were also bisexual women and they, upon hearing my pleas to enjoy myself in new ways, introduced me to a swinger’s club.

I don't know many people who don't adore Lady Gaga in the community. Telephone featuring Beyoncé discusses being in the club, not hearing the badgering partner on the phone who is throwing a childish fit, and I cannot begin to express how deeply I relate to this exact incident. Possessiveness is ugly, and going to the club ended up teaching me how to overpower something as ugly as being far too territorial.

The club was originally under one name, and I attended it first under that ownership. As time passed, I lost interest in going in favor of another club I’d discovered through word of mouth. My friend later ended up buying the first club I ever visited which inspired me to return, and under her amazing changes, I found an entire tribe of women I connected with based on one major similarity: we all loved other women. Additionally, I discovered that in the swinging lifestyle I was what others called a “unicorn” (which I told a story about here), defining me as an available single female who was open to experiencing both parties in a couple. Unicorns are not incredibly common, so I found it easy to make friends. (Side note: You may be thinking swingers just pick and choose who to have fun with based on looks, but the reality is that nearly every couple I’ve interacted with had a dedication to sitting down and becoming knowledgeable of each other before proceeding further. Many of my friendships blossomed from interested couples I never intended to partner with.)

Me and the girls at the club were just a bunch of country gals at heart, being in the Midwest at a place most people didn't know existed. Bottoms Up by Brantley Gilbert sang to our little redneck hearts as we took shots of whiskey, shared cocktails with one another so we could squeal over the delightful flavors, and sing along gently as we enjoyed the club atmosphere together. This was the kind of song we liked to start our night with, since it's a fairly low pace and good enough energy to keep you motivated to experience everything your heart desires.

My memories at the newly remodeled, upgraded club began forming with me spending time observing and having quiet, small conversations with various people to become acquainted. It took a couple of years, but I managed to make a large amount of friends, and not just because I was the coveted unicorn. These people liked who I was, accepted my bisexual identity, and encouraged and appreciated me. Two of my friends in particular discovered quickly how deep of an introvert I was and how little I’d experienced due to my naturally high anxiety. They patiently coaxed me out of my shell, encouraging me to try the simplest things like shooting pool at the club with them or riding on the back of my friend’s husband’s motorcycle. Those nights out at the club together when they found inspiration to give me more life experiences were the best nights of my life. The exhilaration of stepping outside of my comfort zone pressed me forward with a passionate dedication to experiencing everything there was to be experienced.

Turn it Up by the Texas Hippie Coalition is a great, powerful song to sway your hips to slowly and sensually with a shot of liquor in the air as you danced in a sexy way just like little Sarah from the lyrics. Just a touch of naughtiness mentioned without being too overbearing, Turn it Up was the song we loved to hear when the alcohol was making us a little more interested in getting on the dance floor. I can remember so many shots taken while moving my body seductively to this sound.

These friends are people who came to the grocery store and jump started my car so I could get to their home nearby and get my car working properly again. People who let me borrow an extra car battery they had until I got paid and could buy myself a new one, which I hadn't had in many other friendships. I watched them gather at the club and mention tragedies fellow members were experiencing and pass a donation bowl around for people to help them; there were so many moments I witnessed pure love and affection for one another, in an atmosphere designed to make people believe that bisexual women like myself and many of the other women there were present for the sole purpose of physical enjoyment. Derogatory terms are often associated with women like us, yet it was so much more than anything physical. It gave me so much joy to love and hug and kiss these friends as often as I wanted because I simply adored who they were. It was a beautifully fulfilling emotion to have them around, and being around them became a necessity to my well-being.

Florida Georgia Line's song Cruise was a tune we loved hearing at the club, but sometimes us girls got a little adventurous after a few drinks and wanted to take a drive. We always had one of the gals' husbands available to be the sober chauffeur so we could ride the country roads, windows down with a song like this blasting at top volume. Plus, as an added bonus, I could sing it as loud as I want and no one really heard my terrible singing voice!

One of the greatest memories I have of being at the club is my friend teaching me the dance to the Wobble, and how long it took me to learn, but I did it! Introverted, shy, lil’ ol’ Dani from the country was finding out how to have fun the extroverted way, and it was pretty cool.

Seriously, watch the video and learn the Wobble. One time, I visited a club an hour away with my girlfriends and we were the only ones in the club who knew this dance, so we got to perform it for everyone in the room. After it was over, we were applauded before the DJ informed us he was willing to play anything we wanted if we kept dancing. What an ego boost, and a total movie moment. Wait, did I live in an actual musical for a while?! Cool.

We spent our free weekends together at the club for the most part, because it was the one place we had the most freedom to be ourselves. Some people dressed up formally while others dressed in jeans and casual tops; some wore lingerie, while others chose to walk around without clothing. The club had a dance floor and a DJ, which played a lot of amazing songs to sing along to with your friends. One of my favorite songs that me and my friends would sing together was Pontoon by Little Big Town, because it just had a good vibe to it.

Other songs like the following meant little things to me for other reasons:

  • S&M by Rihanna: A lot of my friends had the additional benefit of being interested in kink, just like I am. This song played and I loved hearing the lyrics in the atmosphere. Being surrounded by a group of open-minded, communicative women who appreciated music that gave a nod to our most taboo enjoyments was an uplifting experience for my little LGBTQIA+ heart.
  • Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry: Not exactly a sentimental song, but definitely the song that you and your girlfriends shout proudly because hey, at least we’re fun.
  • Paralyzer by Finger Eleven: Imagine strobe lights, colors everywhere, music videos playing on giant televisions with dancers galore as the DJ played this song. You’re sitting at a table near the dance floor, watching the lights flicker across your own skin, and you hear the part that sings, “Well I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you; I want to make you move because you're standing still; if your body matches what your eyes can do you'll probably move right through me on my way to you.” It was fun to hear that line and think of the times I’d sat there spectating others and had someone come ask me to dance, which always gave me a pleasant feeling. Dancing with anyone there, men or women, was my favorite thing to do.
  • Pony by Ginuwine + Birthday Sex by Jeremih: These two songs popularly played on club member birthdays, when the consenting birthday gal or guy would take a seat on the dance floor to enjoy free lap dances from anyone who wanted to provide one. I tried hard not to participate in these due to my social anxiety, but every so often I’d jump out of my comfort zone for a friend because of course my girls were going to have me jump on their laps! Even if I’m pretty bad at things like that, I have to try.

The most important song I ever heard at the club was after I had finally found a partner I wanted to be with. It was on Valentine’s Day, when we couldn’t be together due to living over a thousand miles apart at the time, and I was sitting with my usual friends when a song came on that I had told him (in private) that I loved because it played during an intimate scene between two of my fictional TV characters (shout-out to Stefan Salvatore and Caroline Forbes on The Vampire Diaries!) I expressed that I wanted him to hear it because it made me think of him, like if we were representing the characters finally passionately uniting. I found a way to connect to the song, and he ended up connecting me to it more by calling the club secretly to play it for me in front of everyone there. I think I turned fifty shades of red in that moment, but I felt a soaring love and delight I’d never felt before, and everyone encouraged me to enjoy it. Another movie moment! My life is so fun.

For me, the majority of my bisexuality was expressed and experienced at the club, and that’s because I chose to be open about who I am. I chose to explore and identify what I did and did not want in my love life, spending plenty of time varying my choices enough to let me try different situations firsthand. Nothing teaches you better than experience, after all. I spoke at length with the friends I’d made there and learned how they grew so strong that they could attend a club and share one another with other people, and I learned everything I needed to know about myself in that regard and how to manage the ugly shade of jealousy. I had lectures and discussions about the meaning of beauty, stepping outside your comfort zone, exploring new things, finding your limits through carefully decided discussions with others who aimed to help you find them, and so many other incredibly educational talks that brought me to a higher understanding of what I can and cannot manage in a relationship. I had the freedom to explore women I liked and confirm to myself that my feelings were normal and okay. I blossomed as the true bisexual woman I wanted to be, and it eventually lead me to the most sensational relationship I’ve ever had. Without my openness and exploration in that regard, I don’t think I would have been as prepared for the maturity I needed to exist in a healthy relationship where I didn’t contribute unnecessarily negative things regarding sexuality, open-mindedness, and full disclosure communication. Life in my own boundaries with my own rules about acceptance has been successful, and I hope in reading this, others find comfort in accepting every last thing about themselves regardless of how unusual or common their traits are. Not only am I someone who has lived a thousand lives, I’m proud of having done it.

My "life anthem" used to be Afterlife by XYLO because it talked about simply waiting to move on from this life due to loneliness and being different. I can't say this applies anymore at all now that I'm in a happy, committed relationship, but I still love listening to it to remind me what I grew from.

Without the thousand lives I lived, the person I am wouldn’t have been ready for the love I have today. Without those experiences, I never would have felt like I spent enough time trying different things before finally concluding with the partner of my dreams. I can’t be anything but thankful for my ability to push past the fear of the judgement of others because otherwise, I wouldn’t have someone who makes me feel like this.

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About the Creator

Dani Banani

I write through the passion I have for how much the world around me inspires me, and I create so the world inside me can be manifested.

Mom of 4, Birth Mom of 1, LGBTQIA+, I <3 Love.

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