Pride
IV.I.III
PRIDE
With these new insights, I decided to give dating another try. The ‘not looking for anything serious but open to anything’ kinda dating. Up until that point, my love life had been very simple: the boring single phase with the occasional hook-up, the six-month relationship with Pedro, and the only-looking-for-fun, single phase.
Whilst not very experienced in the domains of love, in all my years of singlehood I was still something akin to an advice columnist for my friends having relationship glitches. All those soaps and dramas did come in handy after all. My number one advice for those in search of love was to never actively seek it. Second, to never expect your partner to fix you or make you happy. Third, putting yourself out there is as much effort as you need to make. And so I took my own advice. I put myself out there once again.
It was at this point that I started noticing that being bi wasn’t exactly as freeing as I thought it’d be. Finding myself and coming out was a relatively easy and really exciting process for me. It had taken me quite a while to understand the whole Pride thing, and when I did, I owned it and became all the more confident. I am a proud bi guy. It doesn’t define me, sure, but it’s one of the many things about me that make me who I am – so in a way, it also does. As fun and exhilarating as it had been getting to discover this new part of me, that same confidence and pride was tested when I started dating again.
Being bi, I’ve come to learn, comes with a lot of strings attached. Not everyone digs the ‘live and let live’ attitude – and, I think, it’s because growing up, we’re forced to label things. Things are either normal or they’re not. And ‘normal’? Some people go through their entire lives without questioning what it is or where the concept came from. Cause at the end of the day, what the hell is ‘normal’? I imagine it is something arbitrarily agreed upon by the majority, or by someone with privilege — perhaps a rich, straight, white man. Being white, cisgender, and straight earns you more points in society, more so if you’re male. Being anything but that? Good friggin’ luck.
But I’m not about to get into that (not now, at least). Especially cause I check three of those four criteria. What I am gonna get into, however, is the concept of biphobia, or, more commonly, bisexual erasure – which, I guess, are subtypes of homophobia. I’m no expert when it comes to these things, so keep in mind I’m just talking about my experience.
Over the previous year, I had dated quite a bit. Usually it’d be a one-time thing, so my sexuality would never really come up. Girls would assume I’m straight, guys would assume I’m gay. Which I was fine with. These would be people I’d probably never see again, so why would that ever be an issue?
But when it came to something more than that? Oof. Time and time again I’d be dating someone with whom I had a lot in common. Someone with whom I wouldn’t mind taking a step forward. So of course, always wanting to be transparent, I’d come out to them. You know, no biggie. Well… biggie. From being told that it’s just a transition phase to being told that I’m just a homophobic homosexual, from being told I’d definitely be unfaithful to being told I must be riddled with all kinds of sexually transmitted illnesses – I kinda heard it all. My label was synonymous with promiscuity, insecurity, indecisiveness, and whatever else the trend of the day suggested.
I may be assertive and confident, but I’m not gonna lie – some of those words did get to me, for various reasons. Growing up, I always thought that someday I’d be the Prince Charming to a damsel in distress (how sexist, right?) and we’d be this picture-perfect couple (never mind my average looks). We’d fall in love at first sight and she’d be the one. I’d propose with a really big romantic gesture – perhaps training white doves to go in formation and spell “Will you marry me?” as soon as they were set loose from their cage, or something as complex if not more. We’d slow dance in the middle of a large hall at our wedding – everyone jealous of our love and looks. Did I mention there’d be a chocolate, a cheese, and a champagne fountain? We’d buy a house, get used to being married. Then, one day I’d be eating my morning cereal and almost choke on something: a positive pregnancy test! Ah, what a life. Me, my wife, and our perfect baby girl. Maybe we’d have a boy or adopt sometime in the future, but first we’d settle down and make a home with our white picket fence and proceed to live happily ever after. How perfectly idyllic, huh?
Well, this dream broke into pieces over time. First it was the picket fence. Like hell I’d be stuck in a boring old house in a boring old place. My perfect wife and I would never settle down anywhere. We’d be chasing one adventure after another, always on the go. Then it was the kids. Medicine suddenly became my life, and kids would only get in the way of that. I’m too ambitious to have kids, and if I did, I’d most probably end up choosing them over work – and that would mean I’d end up resenting them eventually. Why put kids through that? So anyways, no kids. It would be just me and my wife – working and travelling, and that would be the best life. Then I found out I was bi, so it could have just as well been a husband who’d be my partner in crime. Wasn’t too difficult to accept this either. But now? Now it seemed like I couldn’t even hold a relationship for more than a month, let alone long enough to get married!
Ah, to get married… something I hadn’t even thought about in years. So conservative, so archaic! Yet there I stood, realising it would probably never even be an option in the first place. It was kinda devastating, you know? To give up on love at first sight, to give up on finding the one, to give up on a happily ever after. The worst part was that I wasn’t looking for any of it, yet the minute I realised I couldn’t have it, I started to crave it. I grieved the loss of a life that could’ve been mine. I’d never have the life I had envisioned as a young kid. And if I couldn’t have that? What would I have? Would I — and then it just clicked. The idea of this perfect love story I had had in mind since I was a kid was something I had outgrown ages ago. If I were to have that life, all I’d feel would be oppressed and suffocated.
People change, as do priorities. And though this might not be what I want at present, maybe one day that boring old house surrounded by that boring white picket fence might just be what I’ll be looking for. Maybe one day I’ll want to settle down, get married, and have kids. I don’t want that now, but I might want it later on – who knows? All I know is that if there’s ever going to be a right person – be it boy, girl, or anything in between – they won’t give a crap about who I’m attracted to.
Apart from all of that and the fact that bisexuality is ridiculed by some, there was also the fact that I had never really questioned my sexuality ever since I came out.
What by now should (hopefully) be a cliché – that sexuality is fluid – made it really easy for me to get on board immediately. There’s a spectrum between heterosexuality and homosexuality, and I stand somewhere in between, simple. On some days, I might feel more attracted to a girl; on others, more attracted to a guy. Does the ‘some days’ part not fit the label, though? Should I refer to myself as a paroxysmal homosexual – someone who is usually straight but has random, sudden outbursts of homosexual impulses? Or do I owe it to the LGBT+ community to label myself as a homosexual who sometimes experiments with members of the opposite sex?
I don’t mean to trivialise the subject, I really don’t. But I do feel like there’s a striking lack of awareness when it comes to bisexuality – or any of the other sexualities that fall under the umbrella term of LGBT+ for that matter. But since this is my blog and I can be as self-serving as I want to be, I’m gonna focus on bisexuality. To that end, I’m gonna quote Callie – one of my favourite allies from Grey’s Anatomy: “It’s called LGBTQ for a reason. There is a B in there and it does not mean badass. Okay, it does, but it also means bi”.
Hopefully, we’ll live to see a time where we don’t always feel the need to complicate life so damn much. No labels, no judgement, no persecution. Imagine a future where people would just fall in love. Period. With whomever. No questions asked. A future where people live and let live. It shouldn’t be a dream. It should be the goal.