Don't Bi-Pass Me

Coming from a conservative, god fearing household tucked neatly inside the bible belt, my story starts as many others do. I grew up suppressed, confused and angry. I knew I was different but didn’t understand why or how. In my teenage and young adulthood years I quickly found some footing and began casually dating women, still in denial about my sexuality, resonating the same notions I had been taught: “this must be a phase.” I cannot describe the innate inner turmoil and exhilaration experienced in each seductive glance, each inhale and exhale of my beautiful paramour’s perfume. An innocent and natural attraction was bittersweet and marred within the boundaries I had instinctively and fearfully placed on myself. My heart and hormones were rogue, my body unashamedly alive.

But my yearning, my attraction was not and is not a phase. After being completely honest with myself, I started to loosen my grip on my denial. I began to accept myself, accept that I loved both men and women (as the years pass I realize I am more accurately pan, I don’t discriminate at all) for once in my life I felt free, I felt I had learned the most important part of myself: my identity.

The first time my lesbian lover told me she regretted giving me a chance burned my heart into bits. We had met on Tinder, had several wonderful dates, and I had become fond of her, but I wasn’t ready for commitment. I had made my intentions clear up front, and I wasn’t at a place in my healing to handle setting boundaries in a healthy way (I own this fact) and in the end I hurt her by telling her I wanted to see other people, more specifically a male friend of mine that I had dabbled on and off with. I still remember the iron taste in my mouth as I read the words “that’s what I get for loving a bisexual.”

As a baby queer, I had no idea of the bi stigma within the community. I learned very fast. Discussing the topic with other bi and pan individuals, I realized it was an all too common practice. One friend of mine, a bisexual male, was candid about the heightened stigma around being male and bisexual. He confessed that it was hard to find people like me, that didn't care that he was also attracted to men. Until that first conversation, I had felt ashamed and alone. I believed I was wrong for being attracted to everyone, but here was a genuinely great person, that shared this pain. Not only were we catching flak from the outside, sly comments and outright hatefulness, we were also falling victim to discrimination within our own community. We were a sectioned "off limit" grouping within an already prejudice society. We were made to feel deformed. Not good enough to be straight, and not committed enough to pick a side to date.

As a community we owe it to ourselves to do better. This community has grown, and our reach is touching the lives of queer and nonconforming individuals everywhere. Our bisexual members deserve our support. Our trans members, our minority members, our asexual members, strangers, loved ones, etc. are all in this shit show called life together, and we don’t need any help in finding persecution. So, while I believe it is important to break down the walls of discrimination on the outside, we must be willing to set the table of acceptance on the inside too. I am fortunate enough to have found my voice and a loving husband that accepts me exactly how I am. I am not a phase; I am not a choice. Do not bi-pass me, I am full of love, and so are you.