You know when someone opens their mouth, and you can just tell the bullshit they are about to spew will piss you off?
He saunters over and shoulders his way into my conversation. If he had thought for only a moment about his target demographic, maybe he would realize how my talk of bisexual pride day might connote my own sexual orientation.
“Damn, I guess they got a day for them all now.”
Yeah, a day for me, asshole. At least that’s what I tell him.
His reaction reeks of the kid who claimed he never would have known because I “just look so straight!” A continuation of the puzzled glances and interrogation about my XY chromosome- dominated relationship history.
I’ve never even dated a woman before. My friends never fail to remind me that now that I am in college, away from my oppressively religious high school, I am obligated to date women. Well, not even a month in, and I am dating (you guessed it!) a man.
Is she REALLY bi?
I’ve spent the past year or so pondering that same question, for us questioning bisexuals are our own harshest critics.
I reminisce on the first girl I ever loved. Her leaving was like microtears to the connective tissue of my heart, a loss that didn’t fade with time like my straight relationships.
But just as quickly comes another man, a man who replaces her, at least in part.
And I’m left questioning.
Questioning whether I am attracted to women at all, romantically or sexually.
Am I biromantic? Bisexual? Stuck in some sort of liminal space? Do my doubts make me straight, or do they stem from compulsory heterosexuality? What if that girl was just a fluke? Is it love if the way I love women looks different from the way I love men? Will my sexuality ever be defined?
“Questioning” is the process through which one determines one’s sexuality. I’ve heard it referred to as a passing stage, an intermediate step on the journey to full acceptance of a specific label. But that is not how I view the questions I am asking myself now.
For me, questioning is ongoing. It is interminable because sexuality truly is a spectrum. To say that any one label fully encompasses my experience of sexuality is misleading.
Simultaneously, there is a need for us to express our sexuality externally. Labels allow us to concretize a concept as abstract and elusive as sexuality. Labels create community and belonging with those similar in their preferences, as well as a general understanding of others’ sexual lives.
Unfortunately, labels also invite assumptions. Assumptions about bisexuality range from outright and ignorant biphobia to more subtle stereotypes, even within the LGBTQ+ community.
Bisexual women are seen as both rebelling against and playing into patriarchal and sexualizing norms.
God, you’re into girls? That’s so hot.
My preference for dating men, whilst being attracted to both genders, makes me “mostly straight.”
My mini dresses and makeup are inherently anti-queer. A basic bitch can’t fuck women.
Bisexuality is a wider umbrella than it may appear. Bisexual women can present as femme or masc, date men and women—or any given combination of the two. My bisexuality is not required to exist within the confines of your bisexuality.
Sexuality is fluid, personal, and relative. So fuck, love, and date who you want.
Happy Bi Pride.
Sincerely,
Bi-curious AND Questioning
Maddie Proctor ’25 (maddieproctor@college.harvard.edu) is questioning a lot of things in her life.