Why I refuse to be bullied into talking about my bisexual experiences
Invalidating bisexuality is as old as the word itself
“But what about the women you have dated?” is a question I get ad nauseum on here. “What about your feelings towards the women you have broken up with?” Urgh. “What about your attraction to women?” Sigh. The short answer is that I find the pronoun game to be an elaborate exhausting Life of Brian sketch: writing ‘man or woman’ or ‘him or her’ after every single clause is disruptive and annoying. The long answer is: I’m not your circus freak to masturbate over and luridly experience sexual fantasy through. Which, in the heterosexual gaze, I almost continuously turn out to be. Newsflash: I’m a boring bisexual. I like discussing election results and hiking. Less glitter and sex clubs. In short: nothing to write home about. Indeed, nothing to write about at all. My relationships with women are exactly like those of men: ordinary, quotidian, unremarkable. And I’m not going write them into my work solely to satisfy one pervert with his hands down his jeans, or an ‘ally’ who gatekeeps gay experiences.
I was nine the first time I had a relationship with a girl, just so we’re clear. My first kiss was with a girl, I took a girl to prom, I dated mostly girls as a teenager. I have no issues with my credentials as a bisexual. I…
