The Queer Community Needs to Stop Shoving Bi People Back in the Closet
Growing up, accepting and enjoying my sexuality was a difficult path. Though I’m probably not telling you anything many of you didn’t already know. I had the same problems as millions of other queer people when everybody found out I liked men. You already know this story; you’ve heard it before many times. And, of course, queer people like us finally live freely, completely and true to ourselves.
#OutAndProud, right? So now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I won’t waste your time further.
Yes, all my relatives, classmates, coworkers and friends know I love cock. Yes, I go out to gay bathhouses, gay clubs and even gay birthday parties. Yes, I have exciting anonymous sex with strangers in restrooms, fuck-clubs or in the subway (but that’s another story).
But what if I told you that I’m still in the closet? You wouldn’t believe me, right? That hardly sounds like being closeted!
Let me tell you a secret: I repress… my straight sexuality. I’m a closeted bisexual guy, as many of us are.
If you’re not bi, please don’t click away — people need to read about bisexuality for the same reason we have Pride festivals every year. Bi people should be out, proud and treated with respect. But a lot of our battles for acceptance take place in the gay community.
Here is the dilemma we bisexuals face:
As I grew up I knew I liked girls. I dated girls; I fucked girls. I felt normal and I belonged to straight, so-called “normal,” society. It was great and I was happy.
And I also knew I liked boys. I dated boys; I sucked cocks. In my innocence, when I was in middle school, I thought this would also be accepted in “normal” society.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it wasn’t. I came out and I was attacked. I tried to stop feeling this attraction — only to find out that it’s part of who I am and not something I can stop being. Liking boys meant that I wasn’t “normal.”
But then I learned of a magical kingdom called the Gay Community where men having sex with other men was totally accepted. This was perfect for me! But soon enough, trouble popped up again. As soon as people realized I liked girls too, they made me feel like I was doing it wrong. The magic was gone.
You must choose!
Bisexuals don’t exist!
You’re a coward!
You’re halfway in the closet!
You’re trying to cover your real self!
Of course, this is all false — and I know that now. But back then, since I was kicked out of the straight world, I figured the people telling me this must be right. Bisexual men don’t exist; I was just confused.
So, I began to live an exclusively gay life for the next four years. They weren’t boring years — actually, they were great. I had tons of sex, went to loads of parties and took many lovers. But in another way, they were also the saddest years in my life.
I still remember feeling guilty for looking at women. I’d learned it was my society-taught fake-straight side showing up. I felt so terrible — but it was exactly the other way around. It was my real self trying to float back to the surface.
I really tried to suppress my bisexuality, only to find out I can’t stop it. It was exactly like finding out I can’t stop liking men, either! I just can’t stop liking both — I know because I tried.
Of course, now, I think it’s ridiculous to feel so terrible for liking girls. But back then, I was too young and hadn’t learned this yet. But remember those anti-bi statements I referenced above? Those are the same terrible ideas used against gay men in years past. How many times have gay men been told they don’t really like men, they’re just “confused?”
The only difference is now statements like this are coming from the queer community. And that sucks. After all, how many teenagers trying to discover themselves have heard that and gotten derailed just as I did?
Now, while I finally did discover who I was, it’s not really a happy ending. After all — I still stay in the bi closet. But why?
Well, while I know who I am, the B in LGBTQ is usually forgotten. Even when we know ourselves, we still need to hide it when we go to gay spaces just to avoid being asked the same irritating questions over and over again.
Loving yourself is just the first battle. But bisexuals are losing the fight for LGTQ acceptance. And that’s depressing — for half of you to out and proud while the other half is stuck in the closet. Unfortunately, that’s my current reality: Openly gay, but a closeted bisexual.
Featured image by flukyfluky via iStock