I stopped listening to the bisexual gatekeepers & now I own my identity

Just recently, I was sharing my fantasies and potential bisexuality in what was supposed to be a safe, queer space when a lesbian shut me down. She told me that I had no right to claim bisexuality because I’ve never been with a woman. According to her, I was “bi-curious at best.”

I was livid. How dare she tell me what my sexuality is? When I insisted that I was bisexual and that she was behaving inappropriately, she didn’t back down. In fact, she doubled down. This encounter wasn’t the last time she would attempt to speak to me about my sexuality, but it was the last time I dignified her with a response. I wasn’t going to be bullied by someone I didn’t know or care to know, especially not someone from my own community.

Once upon a time, the LGBTQ+ community was on a quest to introduce and normalize bisexuality. Nowadays—based mostly on discussions online—it appears that some members within the community are more focused on gatekeeping bisexuality.

Up until recently, I never cared to engage in any discourse on bisexuality. Why would I? I’m a trans woman whose orientation swings heavily toward men. What does the validity or invalidity of certain people’s bisexuality have to do with me?

But as the years have gone by, and my attraction to women grew to the point of me questioning my orientation, I wondered… Is a person only bisexual if they’ve been sexually or romantically involved with a member of the same sex? Do you have to be the perfect bisexual to be bisexual?

I was 13 when I had my first crush on a girl. Bethany was a pretty 14-year-old girl of Asian descent who attended the same church as my family. By that age, I had already had several crushes on male WWE stars, as well as a couple of boys in my grade, so my sudden attraction to a girl came as a massive surprise to me.

Sure, I had made out with a girlfriend of mine, but just like Katy Perry, I only did it to try it. And sure I found the kiss pleasant, but I was acutely aware of the fact that it didn’t mean anything to me other than that it was fun.

As for my crush on Bethany, I didn’t know how or why it came to be. Nor was I aware of the existence of the concept of bisexuality then. All that I knew was that I was experiencing feelings for her that were previously only reserved for members of the XY gang.

My crush on Bethany persisted until I stopped attending church at around 14. When my romantic feelings towards Bethany subsided, so did my feelings towards girls in general. The momentary mutation in my orientation was gone and never to be experienced again—or so I thought.

Fast forward five years. I’m walking through town, doing a little thrift shopping when I see what appears to be the most handsome man I have ever seen across the street. The light turns green and we both make our way across the street. The closer we get, the more pronounced their chest area becomes until it finally becomes clear as day: the person I believed to be the most handsome man I had ever seen turned out to be a masc-presenting woman.

My attraction to this woman didn’t fade upon this revelation. She was still incredibly hot, and as a Libra, I’m no stranger to appreciating beauty irrespective of gender. But my attraction to her also didn’t make me question my orientation. After all, I mistook her for a man.

Up until this point, I had only found two women attractive, with men leading by at least a thousand. Surely this wasn’t enough of a reason for me to question my sexuality.

Fast forward another nine years, and I am now a 27-year-old whose attraction to women has evolved from party lesbianism to full-on fantasies that include women every now and then. I still haven’t been with a woman romantically or sexually, but I am significantly more open to the experience now than I have ever been in my life.

You would think that this is a good thing and that my newfound bisexuality would be embraced and celebrated—especially by members of the alphabet gang. But, it turns out people like myself are often dismissed and seen as opponents by members of the LGBTQIA+ community.

In a brief chat, Jordan, 25, a cisgender bisexual man who’s mostly attracted to women, shared how his bisexuality has been dismissed.

“Every now and then I fantasize about sleeping with men, but I have no desire to be in a relationship with one,” he said. “I don’t know why I have the desire to sleep with men and no desire to date them but I guess that’s just me. When I told my queer friends about this, they said I was either gay and struggled with internalized homophobia or that fantasies don’t really count because everyone has them from time to time.”

Mpumi, 24, a cisgender bisexual woman who has only been intimate with men, also shared her experience.

“Even though I’ve only dated men, I still consider myself bisexual,” she said. “I find women attractive, but in a way that’s completely different to the way I find men attractive. I don’t know if I could ever date a woman but I’ve definitely fantasized about being intimate with one. It’s something my man and I are both open to exploring. I get told I’m not really a bisexual all the time. Some people have even told me that the only reason I want to be intimate with a woman is because my man wants to.”

Other than our lack of experience dating or being intimate with the same sex, there’s one other thing Jordan, Mpumi, and I have in common: the guilt that comes with identifying as bisexual when you’re not the “perfect bisexual.” This guilt is accompanied by feelings of shame, confusion, and feeling like you don’t really belong.

According to the Royal College of Psychiatrists, “Bisexual people have a higher risk of depression, anxiety, eating disorders, suicidality, and substance use compared to both the general population and to lesbian or gay individuals.”

This is due to the constant erasure of bisexuality and the experiences of those who identify as bisexual. In this case, the gatekeeping of bisexuality.

When asked why people gatekeep bisexuality, Tim Lagman, a certified sex educator, said, “Certain people within the LGBTQ+ community take it upon themselves to set certain standards for what they believe can qualify as ‘bisexual enough.’ They feel that there is a need to preserve the bisexual image and prevent it from falling into a heteronormative trap. In other words, bisexuals won’t allow straight people who simply ‘think’ or ‘feel’ bisexual to call themselves bisexual.”

As distasteful as this form of gatekeeping is, it’s important to note that it isn’t always done with bad intentions. Plenty of members of the LGBTQ+ community have had their hearts broken by people (usually straight) who claimed to be bisexual, thus gatekeeping the term has become a way to shield themselves from this.

Something that gatekeepers of bisexuality tend to neglect is that one’s attraction to different genders doesn’t have to be equal, nor does one have to act on one’s feelings of attraction to qualify as a bisexual.

According to Zach Zane, sex and relationships expert at Fun Factory and author of Boy Slut: A Memoir and Manifesto, “Most people aren’t equally attracted to men and women, most tend to have a preference and that preference may change over time.”

If we look at the Kinsey Scale, named after sexologist Dr. Alfred Kinsey, we can see the validity of the first part of Zane’s statement. The scale consists of five bisexual variants ranging from heterosexual with incidental homosexual tendencies to homosexual with incidental heterosexual tendencies.

As for attraction vs. behavior, Zane states in his book, “Some bi people have never slept with the same sex or gender, and they’re still bisexual. Bisexuality is about attractions, not behavior. That’s why monogamous people are still bisexual despite the fact that they’re only sleeping with one person. That’s why virgins can still be bisexual, gay, or straight.”

Not only is it not necessary for you to have previously been with a member of the same sex to qualify as bisexual, but you also don’t have to have equal amounts of feelings for both sexes. In other words, the “perfect bisexual” doesn’t exist.

This revelation has helped me resolve the guilt I had regarding my bisexuality. Up until recently, I identified as heteroflexible to keep the peace. But now I not only know I’m bisexual, but that my particular brand of bisexuality is valid.

I am bisexual, and no amount of gatekeeping from within or outside of the community will ever change that.

Don’t forget to share:

This article includes links that may result in a small affiliate share for purchased products, which helps support independent LGBTQ+ media.

View Original Source Here