IV.I.III – 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, 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 to 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 that’s it. 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 a really exciting process to 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. Whatever. You should get me by now (if there’s even a ‘you’ reading this). Anyways. As fun an exhilarating as it was, it still wasn’t all plain sailing. 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 and where the concept came from. Cause at the end of the day, what the hell is ‘normal’? I imagine it is something which has been arbitrarily agreed upon by the majority, or by someone with privilege – perhaps a rich, white man as it were. 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, guy 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’d have a lot in common. Someone with whom I wouldn’t mind taking a step forward with. 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. You see, 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-looking face). We’d fall in love at first sight and she’d be the one. I’d propose with this really big romantic gesture – perhaps training white doves to go in formation and spell the words “will you marry me?” as soon as they’re set loose form 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’s a chocolate, a cheese and a champagne fountain? We’d buy a house and get used to being married. Then one day I’m eating my morning cereal and I almost choke on something. It’s 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 of our house and that 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 the other, 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 end up having kids 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 that would 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 for myself 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 before. If I were to have that life, all I’d feel would be oppressed and suffocated.
But people change, as do priorities. And 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, 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 the fact that bisexuality is ridiculed by some, there was also the fact that I had never really questioned my sexuality ever since I had come 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 I might be more attracted towards 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. After all that’s the whole point of pride – to spread awareness. So take note if you haven’t already – as our ally Callie aptly puts it, there’s a B in LGBT+ for a reason!
Hopefully we’ll live to a 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 a goal.