I'd like to be free to consider myself a gay man who's fundamentally bisexual or a bisexual who's primarily gay. I don't know that it matters which I choose, or if I choose. What matters to me is coming to the most authentic expression of who I truly am and living from that place, openly.
We wanted to address this question because of the fact that it comes up in discussions about bisexuals frequently, whether or not bisexuals are even part of the conversation. In many ways, the question itself is problematic.
It's not the label people hate you for. So what is the problem, if it's not the label? It's not fitting into boxes. Not fulfilling your assigned role. Being too queer. Refusing to toe the proverbial line. That's what they hate.
Ever since college, when I slowly came to grips with my bisexual identity, I have had a fear in the back of my mind. In every relationship, a little voice has always been there, questioning, "If you commit to one gender, won't you miss the other genders?"
It's an unfortunate reality that the LGBT community doesn't always provide that support for the people who identify as the B. Instead, too often, we are greeted with suspicion, with disdain, with challenges to our maturity, our veracity, our loyalty, and our very existence.
I've been out as bisexual to myself and my world for about 15 years, acknowledging that I am able to love both men and women. One of the things I have learned through these years is that being out as bi tends to make me a stranger across the spectrum of sexual orientation.
This month's question came from a reader who has been struggling to come out to her parents as bisexual, because they view bisexuals as "cheating gross people who should only stick to either same sex or opposite sex partners." She is looking for ways to educate them.
Reach out and join the bisexual community. Knowing them -- knowing us -- will help you, and by joining the community you also make it larger, and thus you make it easier for the next bi guy to come out and be himself on his own terms.
I married a wonderful man. I had babies. I love him dearly, and I adore my life. To all the world I am a straight woman. I live with the privilege of that assumption. And by allowing that assumption to stand, I also allow ignorance to stand. Not anymore.
It's almost a "chicken or the egg" question: Does society and the LGBT community at large need to become more accepting before bisexuals come out en masse, or do bisexuals need to come out before more acceptance is possible?
You are carrying precious cargo, that bundle named Noah, and he will be watching. How much self-worth and self-confidence he allows for himself will be guided, in no small part, by the self-worth and self-confidence he sees modeled by his dad.
The coming-out stages for many bisexual people are complex and often take years to complete. While everyone's experience is different, over time I've seen some commonalities for bi folks making their journey to freedom.
Could it be that, in the course of us paying attention to her, looking at her, examining her visually, she is feeling compelled to say what so many of us bisexuals say every day and every time we come out: "You can look all you want, but there are things you'll never see"?