The first time I came out was during a pitch meeting at my first full time job as a writer. I announced my big reveal in front of, well, most of my coworkers and my managers. But the minute I said “I’ll admit this to you guys, I’m bisexual”, I immediately regretted the words leaving my mouth. It was stupid. It was fucking stupid. And I felt stupid the second I saw their faces. It was that same concerned face white people make when you educate them about your latest racist experience in America like it’s the first time they’ve ever heard one. I cannot stand that look.
But I told them (and chose to be so bold about it) was because I just wanted to be free. In a nutshell, I was sick-ah-diss-shit, which I assume is a common feeling for a lot of LGBTQIA+ people when they “come out.” I felt dumb to make an announcement about it as if I was doing the morning announcements for a high school.
By the way, the reason I haven’t yet said what exactly I came out as is probably (at least an inkling) why you’ve read thus far. For your information, I’m bisexual. Disappointed? Don’t believe me? You wouldn’t be the first. Welcome.
Although I claim my bisexuality in all of my social media bi-os (sorry, couldn’t help myself), I never really discuss it.
Because when I came out as bi being a femme-presenting, no one believed me
In my experience, people have either rolled their eyes, gave me the “you just think you’re bi” look, or interrogated me about all of my same-sex encounters in order to qualify for queerness. The fuck?
If someone is questioning their sexuality, let them
I expected to be questioned when I told friends and family, because they *think* they know me. But I never spoke about how my first kiss was actually in the 5th grade with a girl, even though I was telling people it happened at 14. Nor did I exploit the fact that the first time I cheated on someone was making out with a girl and a guy, who also happened to be my best friend. Not to mention how I was outed as bi before I, myself knew I was bi because I had a crush on one girl in my entire school.
But if I have to use my sexual experiences to assimilate some sort of gay mathematics, then to me, that might as well be the LGBTQIA+ edition of the one drop rule. And we’re far beyond that shit. It almost brings me back to the days when I had to prove I was “black enough” for my own community because I was more Jonas Brothers than Pretty Ricky.
Being supportive and understanding that a reconfiguration in sexuality is not up for a debate is all I needed when I told people I was bi. I felt like I was being played out to be a phony because I didn’t air out my dirty laundry, and I don’t “look” bi.
But I honestly don’t even want to label my sexual orientation
Bisexuality is an umbrella of shit and I don’t feel like putting myself in a box between cisgender men and cisgender women. Because to be honest, I vibe with everyone. Parts are parts, and buttholes will still buttholes no matter who it’s on, so who is anyone to judge my preferences (or anyone else’s for that matter)?
Bisexuality is just my attraction or the potential to be attracted to genders in or outside the binary, which is then the meaning of pansexuality, and then—well do you see how I don’t like labels? I’ll keep as simple as this I’m a messy ass hoe who will fools with any gender, so long as they’re the right one for me, who will treat me the way I deserve, not judge, and love me down. Like, all the way down 😉