The B in LGBT+: What Is It Like?
A personal story about a worldwide misconception.
The idea seems simple enough. To identify as bisexual means nothing more than the mere sexual and romantic attraction towards both my gender and other genders… apparently. Though the LGBT+ community is getting more and more recognition as the fight for LGBT+ rights goes further, bisexuality itself is still a sexual orientation that involves a lot of perpetuated social stigma. Though this article is not an objective account over what bisexuality is, here are the struggles I’ve personally encountered because of my identity as a bisexual person.
I’m a 20-year-old male who goes to college. Though I’ve always had the privilege of having an education and I consider myself to be surrounded by a tolerant environment, I have struggled with the thought of attraction towards both my gender and others. As a kid growing up in Mexico, I felt I had to pretend to have certain attitudes that I didn’t: I pretended to like soccer, even though I knew nothing about the sport; I pretended to like Grand Theft Auto, even though I’d rather play New Super Mario and Just Dance in my Wii console, and, of course, I pretended that I disliked the simple thought of the word gay; I pretended to hate everything that had to do with that word and I used to throw it off whenever I wanted to make something look like it was worthless, like an insult. But, of course, deep down, I knew what I really thought; that my adopted homophobia was a mechanism to hide what I saw at plain sight: I was into boys too. And, even though a kid is too young to sexualize, bisexuality is something that speaks from the heart first. But that first thought is scary to death: what if people find out? What if you end up alone, like that distant uncle of yours, who doesn’t bother to come home anymore? What if you don’t grow to be the man your family expects you to be? And what if that God you pray to every night doesn’t approve of what you’re feeling?
It was as if a loud voice talked me to shame. Luckily, I turned 15; I went to a birthday party and I saw the birthday girl. She was wearing a red dress and had the most beautiful, bright eyes I had ever seen. I felt drawn to her right away. Luckily enough, she dated me a while after that. What a relief! I was dating someone I was really attracted to, I was in love, and, last but not least, I was validated by other people because of having a girl into me. I felt normal until the inevitable happened. We broke things up after a year or so, I went into high school, and my queer self quickly found itself back into the same dilemmas, along with much more confusion. If I liked boys and girls, would I have to choose one gender at some point? Would a girl ever date me if people found out I am also into guys? And don’t get me started once I grow up: would I ever be able to form a family? Would I ever be able to have children? I felt too nervous to talk to girls because of what I was hiding, and I felt too scared to talk to guys as it was, because of what my friends and family would think of me. Would I ever be able to live a life without prejudice?
As I eventually dared to tell other people about my bisexuality, other questions and dilemmas arose too. In the patriarchal system our society is immersed in nowadays, bisexual girls that I ran into throughout my teenage years seemed to be fine. They were accepted by other friends they had, and they were even celebrated at parties I went to. But, when I told people about my sexuality, some people had questions, and opinions too. Some believed I was just at a stage; on the way to being fully gay. Some male friends slowly stopped being friends with me, subtly ceasing to treat me the way they used to. Some others asked me to confirm if I was indeed gay, because, even if they thought being gay was okay and something to be proud of, they still asked with judgment. Some friends were confused, thinking I had to like a gender more than the other, and that I’d be lying if I didn’t. Some family members even believed that bisexuality was just an excuse to be allowed to be more promiscuous, referring to LGBT+ people with derogatory terms. On the other hand, there was even some backlash from the rest of the LGBT+ community, assuming that bisexuals base their orientations on the gender-binary system and exclude the rest of the genders the community represents, unlike pansexuals and queer people. And, of course, some people encouraged the fear that I had before: that I would eventually have to choose between being attracted to guys or being attracted to girls.
But, for every judgment I ran into, I also ran into words of support. Some people dared to recognize the truth about being bisexual with empathy, and those words of support were what made me sure of defending my bisexuality to the rest of the world. Those words of support reminded me that I am entitled to like boys, girls, and anyone who felt like something in between. They also reminded me that, whoever I marry or take as a partner, I am able to have my own family and to have a child that I can take care of as my own. They still remind me that my sexual and romantic orientation does include other genders beyond my own, and they remind me that society is slowly debunking stereotypes that oppress both men and women, and that I am growing into a future that will accept different expressions of sexuality more and more. I thank those words of support, because they remind me that real friendship and family bonds exist, and they encourage me to accept myself and take it to the best person I can be. I now accept that whoever ends up being my next partner will accept my bisexuality and will not mistake it for an increase in the chances that I could ever cheat. I now accept that true love is honest and tolerant, and I now have the confidence that I will find it someday. Despite the stigmas and questions that arise when some people face it, bisexuality is as simple as it can be defined: it is the mere sexual and romantic attraction towards both my gender and other genders, and it should not mean more than that.
***On a final note, I sometimes doubt that the God that I pray to might not accept me for who I am, but I know this for sure; I am not failing towards that God’s preach as long as I come to this Earth to love.
