Tag Archives: Bisexual

Love is Love

Diversity should thrill people, yet it doesn’t. Just as love and sex should fill people with happiness and excitement. I am sixteen, I have never properly be in love, I haven’t found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with – so how am I supposed to narrow them down by gender and age?

Gender doesn’t really come into play

For me, falling for people, relies on their character and humour, and when I kiss someone, gender doesn’t really come into play. If someone makes you feel delirious and tingly from head to toe…then go for it.
I am in a place where I would be proud and unashamed to tell anyone if I fell in love with a girl or a guy.

Love is for everyone

No words can quite match how love can make you feel and nobody should have to stop loving anyone because of what other people say. And that’s kind of why I’m writing, not because my story is inspirational or anything – but because love is for everyone, and I’m not willing to negotiate.

Some of them know, it’s not that bad

Around Christmas time 2015, I realised that I liked both genders. I told one friend and she recommended an LGBT account on Instagram. I joined and became an admin. Soon after I told my friends and I looked up different kinds of sexuality. All of my friends accepted me.

She accepted me

I was terrified of coming out to my mum, but I shouldn’t have been. It was hard at first, but now I feel like I have a weight lifted off my shoulders. She did say that I’m a bit too young to decide that I was bi, but she still accepted me.

I will tell them when I’m ready

The rest of my family don’t know, but I like it that way. I will tell them when I am ready.

It is not that hard. Just look past the fear you first feel and you will be fine!

Discovering Me

In year 8, I was in French and sitting next to one of my friends. I just thought of asking him out. I, a bit stupidly, did and he freaked out. I was also freaking out and I started reconsidering my sexuality. I just always assumed I was straight and was a bit scared. All the boys in my year didn’t seem approving of homosexuals as they always made sly jokes about them. In year 9, I finally realised that I was bi. I told some of friends but I tried to be discreet as I was unsure of the reactions. By the end of the week, everyone knew. They were all approving. I was slightly surprised but also relieved. Now in year 10, I’ve had my first girlfriend but still searching for the right guy. I’m only one of two out non-heterosexual people in my year so my chances seem small, unfortunately.

“Girlfriend?”

The first time I met China, we were both eleven, at the year seven open day. The first thing I said to her was ‘Oh, cool hairband!’ (as you can tell, I was a complete social butterfly). We quickly became friends, and formed out own little friendship group from there.There were four of us, or seven, depending on who you counted. By the time we finished our first year at secondary school, we were all very close.

But then, in year eight, one of our group left, and the others drifted – and China and I were left alone once again. We had friends, but not so much a ‘group’. We sort of flitted between circles, but this brought us much closer. This was when I first started to like China. In a romantic way.

She kissed me. And I kissed her.

The first time we kissed was at my house, at about half past nine at night, while an episode of Blackadder played in the background. By that time, I was confident in my sexuality – which at that time I called ‘I don’t know, but it’s not straight’. China said she wasn’t sure yet. She was sitting on my lap as we watched the show on my laptop, when she turned around, and rested her forehead against mine.
‘China?’
‘Mmh?’ She responded, eyes closed.
‘You okay there?’
‘Yeah. Just…Can I do something?’
I could feel my heart in my throat. ‘Sure.’
And she kissed me. And I kissed her. And that was the beginning.
The next day, when we hugged to say goodbye, I painfully awkwardly stuttered out; ‘Uhhh, girlfriend?’
She said yes.

I had only ever heard ‘bisexual’ in a negative context

I realised I wasn’t completely like my other female friends when I was 10, just before starting secondary school. My eyes were always drawn to women, and I was confused.

I had always gone to an all-girls Christian school and although my parents were really accepting of gay people, they didn’t talk about it. So I never fully understood different types of sexuality.

Part of me hated myself for my feelings. I pushed them to the back of my mind and continued life as normal.

It felt better knowing that there were other people like me

When I was 13 I came across a definition of the term lesbian on the internet and read a few personal stories. I decided that I must be a lesbian. I didn’t tell anyone, but part of me felt better knowing that there were other people like me.

I really hated myself

But I still hadn’t got to the heart of it. I was still really confused, because I realised that I still liked boys even though I liked girls better. I had rarely heard the word ‘bisexual’, and only ever with a negative context: ‘bisexuals are sluts”, ‘bisexuals are greedy’ and ‘bisexuals need to make up their mind’.  Hearing these things felt horrible and was eating away at me inside.

Then one day, when I was about 15, I was taking a long bath and thinking. What if bisexuals aren’t horrible, what if I actually am a bisexual, am I okay with that? And I was.

The moment I said to myself out loud, ‘I am a bisexual’, was the happiest I have ever been.

 

The internet is good when your family isn’t

I think my grand revelation happened after watching that one episode of the X files when Dana Scully goes to Africa and spends the whole time wearing a tank top and henley wielding a machete and, well, I had to take a cold shower afterwards.

I was terrified. I’d always believed that attraction to the same sex was a bad thing, and here I was clearly infatuated. I locked the door and opened an incognito window on my laptop, just in case. “Signs you’re a lesbian.” I took quizzes, read blogs, I did them all. Some of them said yes and some said no, but none of it helped. I looked up pictures of attractive men to “make sure” I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t. I stumbled across a quiz that told me I was bisexual. I’d only ever pictured bisexual as a thing that teenage girls say when they want to be more attractive to guys. I was really wrong. I looked it up. “Bisexuality” “What is bisexual” “Am I bisexual”. Well, I guess I was queer.

I told myself I was bisexual for the first time

It was months later when a really pretty girl complimented my shirt and I got so flustered that I told myself I was bisexual for the first time. It was only a few weeks after that that I accidentally came out at school when during a discussion about dress code I said I liked girls but didn’t get distracted by their yoga pants. I was ignored, because it’s high school,  but the people around me heard and it spread around.

I came out to my family on April fool’s day (just in case) and got three responses: NO, it’s a phase, sexual orientations aren’t a real thing, people just sleep with who they like. None of them are exactly positive. My brothers are still dicks about it, and my dad likes to pretend I’m his heterosexual daughter, but no one has disowned me for which I’m lucky.

I found several internet communities which were super cool about sexuality and gender, and yeah, there’s always assholes out there, but sometimes it’s easier to find acceptance in online anonymity. Fantasy is also great for that, and one thing I learned from fantasy is that family isn’t about blood relation, it’s about love. Any family that doesn’t accept you is just shit. You’ll find your real family, trust me.

I secretly read books about sexuality in the library toilet

I think I was about 11 years old when I feared the worst, that I might be gay. I was desperate to fit in at school so I told nobody.  I kissed boys like everyone else was but secretly found it traumatic and agonized all the time about how I could avoid having to have sex.  My family were very functional, as long as dinner was on the table at 6 and nobody ever talked about their emotions, that was fine.  My brother managed to hide the fact that he was a heroin addict from my parents because they would do absolutely anything to avoid having to address an emotional issue.

I didn’t want to admit it to myself

I went to live in Brighton and, even there, I still couldn’t face the whole “coming out” thing.  I had lots of gay friends but it wasn’t about anyone else, I didn’t want to admit it to myself.  I used to go to the library and take books about sexuality to the toilet to read them in private, I was too scared to take them home in case the librarian told someone.  As if she cared?  She didn’t even know who  I was!  The next five or six years passed in a haze of university, boyfriends, drugs and alcohol, but surprisingly, despite all this, I got a degree and a masters degree.  However, just after I graduated, the dot com bubble burst and I couldn’t find a job in IT.  I worked in bars with the cool people in Brighton and after we would go out, take ecstasy and drink.  I was miserable, paranoid and exhausted.  After a while I felt really tired and I looked at the people around me, still living the same life as me but in their 40s and I quit my job and threw all my efforts into getting a job in IT.
I got one, in the civil service, barely enough to live on but something, and there I met my ex-civil partner, Sally.  Sally was extremely obviously a lesbian, older than me, didn’t care about social conventions, she didn’t care what anyone though of her, I was fascinated by her.  By then I was so desperate to find an answer to my problems, I threw myself into the relationship with Sally and told everyone who would listen that I was gay, and I mean EVERYONE.  I was so angry, I went looking for conflict wherever I could find it.  The truth is, and it really is, that most people couldn’t have cared less that I was gay but I’d argue with them anyway, no matter how nice they were.  Sally and I had a civil partnership ceremony, all the people from my boring, conservative management consultancy job came to the wedding and I realized the day after that social acceptance of my sexuality was not my problem.  I was my problem.

I started to have uncontrollable panic attacks

Two years later Sally and I split up and entered into a bitter war over our stuff.  Then, the best thing that has ever happened to me happened.  I started to have uncontrollable panic attacks.  I couldn’t work, I couldn’t see friends, I couldn’t see anyone, I couldn’t do anything.  Grudgingly I went to a psychologist, I was lucky, my employer insisted, and paid.  There, I learnt firstly how to control the panic, and then about myself.  I started to heal.  The anger and the paranoia started to leave me, leaving in their place something kinder, something calmer.
I went back to work, just to prove to myself that I could, and then went travelling for a year and a half.  In the last week I met my now boyfriend.  I told him immediately about my sexuality and he was fine with it.  I moved to Argentina and started seeing another psychologist who helped me learn even more about myself, my past and my sexuality.  Now I’m training to be a psychologist myself so I can help people too.  I love my life, I accept myself and others for who they are and now I can enjoy my relationships with people without anger and fear getting in the way.

Just because I’m with a man doesn’t mean I’m “cured”

He’s a great guy but it’s not easy being with a straight man.  I’m also not really a big fan of the term bisexual, when I’m with a man I’m with that man, when I’m with a woman, I’m with that woman.  If it’s relevant to the conversation I tell people, if it isn’t I don’t.  However, if I witness any kind of homophobia I always confront it, just as I would if I witnessed racism or any other kind of prejudice.  I feel it’s my duty to the community but now I try not to do it with anger, I just try to make people think a bit more.  That said, most people don’t feel very strongly one way or the other, most of what is difficult about being gay is accepting yourself.
I live in Buenos Aires, Argentina, with my boyfriend and two dogs.

Surrounded by my family – I found who I am

I figured out I was bi in the summer between 9th and 10th grade. I was on a summer trip to Canada and my family were around me day and night.

As a guy who was questioning his sexuality most of the time it was a bit strange. I noticed that most of the guys in my family would stare at females who walked past and comment on how they thought she looked.

I didn’t know what the hell was going on

I would stare at the guys they were with instead of the girls. I didn’t know why but I noticed I would find my self thinking about them at quiet moments during the day. I couldn’t help it and I was scared but at the same time some females held attraction for me. I didn’t know what the hell was going on.

After finding out a bit more about bi-sexuality it just felt right when applied to me. I became happier and more fun to be around.

I was a serial marrier of men…until I married a woman.

I was always aware that I was bisexual, although when I was younger I never felt able to date women – I was a serial marrier of men. At 40 I was on the point of murdering my husband and joining a nunnery…well I had seriously run out of options anyway, when a met I woman who turned my life around.

I was with her for 10 years before mum even begrudgingly agreed to come to our civil partnership. She still won’t introduce us as anything other than friends! We have a young boy together too, but none of the older relatives will consider me a mum, but the young ones are fine with it.

I’ve realised that sometimes you have to pick your battles. Who cares when people hide their heads in the sand? Be kind, understand when folks are confused and above all – live your life!

 

It’s just a phase…until it isn’t

Growing up in a fairly aloof household, physical and emotional closeness have always seemed scary to me. When I was twelve years old, it got scarier. I’d had a ‘boyfriend’, but that wasn’t much more than hanging out after school holding hands. My relationship with Elise was different.

I wanted to be around her, I wanted to do whatever I could to make her smile. Most importantly, I wanted to understand what I felt for her. She was a friend, but every time I thought about her, there was a tug in my chest. It took me a year and a half to realize I was in love with Elise.

‘I shoved my feelings into the darkest corner I could find’

For three years after, I forcefully shoved my feelings into the darkest corner I could find. I never told her how I felt, because, after all ‘it’s just a phase’, right? It’s what all the movies said, what my family said, what Elise herself had said, to another friend of ours when he came out as gay. It’s not love, if you’re going to grow out of it – or at least that’s what I thought.

At twenty, I started to question that rationale. How could I still find myself attracted to both women and men, after eight years? Surely, I would have passed through that ‘phase’, after eight years. By now, I’d had a few serious relationships – with men. I was still staunchly refusing to believe that my attraction to women was anything more than a physical curiosity.

‘I couldn’t deny my feelings for Anna’

Enter Anna. I was finally getting over a nasty break up, when I met this wonderful ball of happiness. Discovering quite a few common interests, it wasn’t long before we attached the term ‘best friend’ to one another, and spent any and all free time together. Again, I felt that strange tug in my chest – by now, I knew that feeling.

I couldn’t deny my feelings for Anna, but I could keep them to myself. Our friendship continued to grow, over the course of a year. We’d even spoken about becoming roommates, to save on rent.

One night, not particularly different than any other we spent together, I found that I couldn’t continue to keep this secret to myself. It took me fifteen minutes of stammering, awkward analogies, and awkward pauses to tell Anna that I was in love with her. I explained that, while I had questioned my sexuality before, that something this strong couldn’t be called into question.

Anna, quite thankfully, understood why I hadn’t said anything previously. She knew what I meant about thinking it was a phase, about being fooled into thinking that bisexuality wasn’t a real thing. Not only had she lived it first hand, she’d had it thrown at her as an insult – ‘bisexuals are just sluts that’ll have sex with anything’ (another woefully common expression).

Fast forward another two and half years, and Anna and I are happily coupled, and proud of our sexuality.

Being curious is natural. Feel free to question yourself, to ask those ‘what if’ questions. Anything can be a phase, but it doesn’t mean it is a phase. Whether you’re homosexual, heterosexual, or something in between, don’t let anyone else dictate how you feel about someone.