It’s time to set the record straight—I’m not.
Some of you already knew that, but if you don’t know me personally, or haven’t seen much of me since my boy-crazy teen years, it might come as a bit of a surprise. I wasn’t faking my attraction to guys, though; I was just repressing my other crushes.
It almost makes too much sense. Of course someone of my background wouldn’t have a simple sexual orientation. Given my mixed ethnoreligious origin, I’m used to navigating between worlds, celebrating those periodic moments of synchronicity. But it wasn’t until college that I examined myself closely enough to realize the signs of queerness had been there all along. In hindsight, I guess it wasn’t very heterosexual of me to feel so excited while hugging pretty girls in my older brother’s class.
Even after I unceremoniously crawled out of the closet, I rarely expressed my sexuality beyond innuendos—which I still sometimes struggled to articulate. One time, I was explaining the term “queer” to my dad, who by that point knew I wasn’t straight but didn’t know exactly how. I told him “queer” was a broad label for non-heterosexual and/or non-cisgender people, and that I would default to it when I was unsure of my specific orientation. He asked if I had figured it out.
Now, I’ve always been an unabashed daddy’s girl, and I had the luxury of knowing both he and my mom would be in my corner no matter how I answered. Yet I found it surprisingly difficult to speak the word “bisexual” in reference to myself. So I said, “I think I’m the bacon in the LGBT sandwich.”
(Since I very much do not keep kosher, I suppose this technically makes me a cannibal. If that’s the case, though, I’m hardly alone. Are you gonna tell me lesbians don’t eat lettuce?)
My dad, knowing I’m not one for fanfare, told me, “You don’t have to be loud, but you can be proud.”
Even with the support of loved ones, merely existing as a bi person is complicated. While there’s no universal bisexual experience, I think a major part of our identity is constantly questioning whether we’re REALLY bi. After all, everybody else seemingly does.
Fortunately, we’ve got a whole pantheon of bisexual icons, or bicons, representing us in the media. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop other people from downplaying or ignoring these bicons’ sexual orientation, too.
Take Freddie Mercury. Everyone “knows” he was gay, even though he self-identified as bisexual. He may have accepted the gay label as an umbrella term, but it’s erasure to pretend he was only attracted to one gender.
Another bicon, Lady Gaga, has faced accusations of being a straight ally who panders to her queer fanbase—never mind that “Poker Face” is explicitly about her bisexuality.
Isn’t it funny that the gay Alan Cumming was engaged to the lesbian Saffron Burrows? Psych—they’re both bi!
A lot of reductive labeling stems from misconceptions about the definition of bisexuality, and the tendency to treat it as something that vanishes once someone settles into a relationship that passes for gay or straight. According to the American Psychological Association, the term “bisexual” describes “a person who experiences emotional, romantic and/or sexual attractions to, or engages in romantic or sexual relationships with, more than one sex or gender.” Being bi doesn’t necessarily mean one is equally attracted to men and women, or that trans and/or non-binary people don’t factor in as dating partners.
Nevertheless, some community members find terms like “pansexual” or “omnisexual” more encompassing of their identities, especially if gender isn’t much of a variable in their preferences. That’s perfectly cool; they still fall under the bi umbrella, and Bi Visibility Day includes them, too. I personally embrace the bi label because the B is one of the more established and recognized letters, even if certain folks seem to forget what it stands for. Also, pink and blue took turns being my favorite color before I settled on purple, so the bi flag feels like kismet.
Out of the biconic pantheon, Frida Kahlo is the one who best reflects my identity. Not only was she a bisexual woman with distinctive eyebrows, but she was also a Jewxican. During an era when it was much harder to be these things than it is now, she managed to embrace both her masculinity and femininity in a way I find inspiring.
If I’m ever privileged enough to achieve bicon status, I hope to help others muster the chutzpah to be out and proud (and maybe even say the B word aloud). In any event, I’ll do my damnedest to make the world a safer and kinder place for people like us—and yes, this will sometimes mean voting for imperfect allies, because the alternative is surrendering all the rights the community has fought so hard to win.
Bisexuality is not a fad or a “lifestyle choice.” I’ll still be bi if I settle down with a man, a woman, or an enby. I’ll still be bi if I never settle down. I’ll still be bi if I sleep with 100 people or no one at all. I’ll still be bi if I join a convent. I’ll still be bi in a house, with a mouse, here or there, anywhere.
Happy Bi Visibility Day, y’all.
Media Shower 