It took a while for me to find out I was bisexual. As a youngster, I just thought I was a freak, especially against a backdrop of mixed (equally repressive) religions. It was only at university that I found out that there are others who are like me, and even then, it was a difficult concept to get my head around. Liking girls as well as boys is not straightforward, either to understand oneself or to get others to understand. You hetero/homosexuals have it easy; there is a nice neat label for you and everyone understands where they stand. But what happens if it's perfectly possible to be sexually aroused by men and women?
I've been called a 'lezzer', a 'tourist', a 'pervert' and 'greedy'. I have also been accused of not knowing what I want. Lesbians won't touch me because I am not one of them. Straight girls think I fancy them when I don't. When I explain to them that I don't, they look at me outraged and demand to know why! I've been turned away from gay clubs for not looking gay enough and turned down by other bisexual girls for being too straight. When I was dating a surgeon recently, he asked me if I had 'turned' heterosexual since I had chosen to date him. Even after I stopped laughing, he brought up his fear of me running off with a woman on more than one occasion. You see the minefield I inhabit?
Internet dating sites have only recently twigged that some people like both sexes; until last year, I had to choose between being gay and being straight. Even now, the third option reads 'Everybody' or worse, 'Anybody' as if I want to sleep with everything that moves. In fact my standards are high and I am fussy! I have to be; my pool of people to date is twice the size of those who only like one gender. I've never known what it's like to NOT fancy people from both sexes. If you find someone very attractive, what does it matter if they have pecs or boobs? Whilst on dating sites, I have been approached by nice, well-meaning couples looking for a girl to join them in the bedroom. This is not my cup of tea, but I always respond (politely) with a 'no' because what do I gain long-term from being the entertainment? Besides, I've been to university before so: been there, done it, yawn.
My male friends have been very accepting and at ease with news of my sexuality; they are the few people with whom I can be myself. It's a tricky one for straight female friends, however, especially for those who feel uncomfortable around gayness generally. "Ew, what if she fancies me?" I see them asking themselves. Hugging becomes awkward… Not for me, because I am not aroused by my friends, but I know they might be feeling uncomfortable. In fact I have never seen my friends – male or female – in a sexual way; it's a pretty solid barrier in my weird, bisexual world. I can't fancy straight girls either. I might admire the way a girl looks but I can't fancy her if she is straight. Perhaps there is an invisible force field around them, perhaps because I know they are off limits.
Straight men are no better. If I meet one I like and things seem to be going well, I dare to imagine us as a couple. When I get round to revealing my sexuality – usually over an emptying bottle – the very first thing he says is threesome-related and I am left feeling as if I have been reduced to a hole. So I am not enough and my value is purely sexual. Great.
Thank God for Stonewall! For it is here, volunteering my services that I get to work with some truly brilliant, friendly people. It was they who told me that, as a bisexual person, I am recognised as one with needs. It sounds pretty basic but something has clicked and I slot in somewhere! There are others like me who suffer the same inane comments and discrimination. With any luck, and with Stonewall's sterling efforts, maybe future young bisexuals won't have to go through the same bizarre pitfalls I have had to face.
Pictured: Flying the Bisexual Pride flag!
