II.I.IV – F.O.D.
II.I.IV
F.O.D.
Back home I was busy with my summer job, helping around the house and taking care of my dad. Everything was normal. Only now there was something constantly humming at the back of my mind; “You know… I did stuff… I did stuff with a guy! Am I okay with that? Is this something I wanna be doing again?”.
There was just something about the idea of more that was just too intriguing. I seemed to be standing on yet another precipice that would lead to one of those life-changing epiphanies I hadn’t had in such a long time. This realisation made me twitch in excitement. But there were two problems I seemed to be facing.
First of all, I had never really been attracted to a man before. I mean, sure, there was always David Beckham. But does Beckham even count? I mean come on – It’s Beckham! You could quite literally fry eggs on his abs! The only cohorts that are allowed to say otherwise are the visually impaired and the asexual community – that’s it, no more allowances!
But even so, not even he had ever managed to turn me on. For all I knew this might have been something artificial, something I was trying to impose on myself just to get out of a rut. At the same time, it could have been me finally realising who I had always been. Maybe I was born that way after all. And if that was the case, did that mean I had been blind to it all those years, or was it something I didn’t really want to face? This led to problem number two.
The word ‘gay’ had been hurled at me by multiple people on multiple occasions throughout my entire life. Hurled in the sense that people would throw it at me with the intention to hurt. They’d call me that whenever I sat down weird, whenever I moved my hands a certain way, whenever I wore an outfit which was not quite the same as what ninety-nine percent of the population wears. All these things make you ‘gay’. It’s not sexual attraction to people of the same sex that makes you gay. No way. It’s specifically those three things.
I never really minded them though. All those years I pitied them for their ignorance. But now I suddenly minded all of it. Because now it meant I would be proving them right. Now it meant they had known all along. That maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence, maybe, it was their gaydar being on point. As perfect (and modest) as I am, I’m also proud to a fault. So that… that was going to be a really hard pill for me to swallow.
But pill schmill. I swallowed that sucker down like a shot of tequila and didn’t think twice about it. The possibility of introducing another dimension to my life was much more than I could bear and before you knew it, I was swiping right to both girls and guys. It didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt quite… exciting? Yeah, definitely exciting. I had just changed the playing field, and this would amount to another sort of adventure.
“I guess I’m bi now!” I told Momma Bear. She advised me not to label myself immediately. Not in the condescending ‘it might just be a phase’ kinda way. More like in the ‘people can be jackasses’ sense. I couldn’t quite blame her for that. Everyone’s a little homophobic. Even people in the LGBT+ community (more so than I had ever thought). It’s something that is ingrained deep within us. Everyone is prejudiced. Everyone is a little racist, elitist and all the ‘ist’s you can think of. Unless you’re not a human who was raised by humans along with other humans, that is.
But it doesn’t mean all is lost or that all we can do is perpetuate it. What we can do is simple – to interact with as many people as we can. That’s how barriers are broken. That’s how ignorance is defeated. And that’s exactly why I couldn’t give less of a crap about my label. It was after that realisation that I felt confident about my sexuality. I never looked back on it and I considered myself a better person for it.
Not that I take it for granted though. I am now lucky enough to be living in a world where being out of the closet is not as difficult as it used to be. Unfortunately, my reality is not the same as everyone’s.
For quite a long time I’d dismiss the role that my sexuality played in my life, claiming that it didn’t define me in any way whatsoever. In a way that’s true. – there’s way more to me than being bisexual. But in another way, it really does form a big part of who I am. You see, when it comes to pride, it was a concept that took me quite a long while to get.
I managed to understand it only after seeing a video of a guy in Italy who was literally ambushed by his parents and exorcised by a priest in an effort to pray away the gay. June who was kicked out of her house simply because she’s into Jane and not John. Mohamed who was shunned by his family and sent to straight to prison for loving Sam. And let’s not forget what happened to Nomi on Sense8 please. And Óscar on Las Chicas del Cable! Not everyone gets to find their own Amanita and Carlotta.
At the very beginning I used to feel guilty about this. I mean, sure, yeah, I had been passed under-handed comments about my being queer here and there. From the “What? You’re bi? Really? You don’t look bi!” to the “I knew it! You’re way too effeminate to be straight!” I had heard it all. I’d also been given weird looks by strangers. And, I’d been made to feel like I’m the odd one out and that heteronormative behaviour is the only way to go.
Be that as it may, I had never been physically assaulted for being bi. I was never refused entrance to a venue cause I’m not straight. And I’ve certainly never been put in a position which made me resent my queerness. And that made me feel so, so guilty. “Why do I get to be myself without any consequences and others don’t? It’s not fair. I got off way too easy…” And that’s true. It’s true that it’s unfair. But it’s also true that it’s not something I should feel guilty about. My situation (so far at least), is the goal. It’s what the goal has always been. God knows how many people have fought in the war to get me to be myself without any repercussions.
And this is what pride is. The word ‘pride’ is imbued with all the blood, sweat and tears of our brethren. Dismissing my sexuality would mean dismissing all our family’s efforts. The least I can do is wear that badge with honour. To all those who fought for us, thank you.