#86 - Bi Erasure

Today’s words: Kaput, Jolly, Historical, Check in

Word count: 604

Completion time: 30 minutes

Summary: Being bisexual can sometimes feel like you’re stuck in limbo with the straight and queer community...made to feel insignificant by both sides when you desire acceptance from both

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I had never been to a Brighton Pride before, so I felt particularly jolly and liberated that weekend; I was surrounded by people who understood and respected what it was like to be queer, something other than the heterosexual norm that I was forced to partake any time I turned on the TV or read any books. I wasn’t a passive character without development, I was the hero of my own story, someone with a group that for once had their voices heard, even amplified by pink glittery megaphones. Straight privilege seemed kaput for a weekend, and that comforted me, even if it was heavily constructed and artificial at times.

I stood tall within the mass of people; that was my crowd, those were my allies, I was one of them, I—

“Bisexual? That’s sort of half gay, right?”

“My mum calls it ‘one foot out of the closet’.”

My ears were lured to a conversation that took place right behind me. I decided to book a room and check in; my thoughts were with them and only them until I decided to check out again.

“My brother says that they just can’t make up their minds – straight or gay – so they pick an in-between until they can decide who they want.”

“This is why people don’t want to date a bisexual person...they could just change their mind and go for someone of the opposite sex.”

“You’re right. I know someone who dated a bisexual and they left them for another girl. You can’t test the food out from a buffet and put it back once you’re bored of it, that isn’t fair, it’s disgusting.”

“Bisexual people don’t know what it’s like for real gay people...they can go back to being straight if they run into any homophobes...gay people can’t.”

“So true. If a bisexual were dating someone of the opposite gender, no-one would even know that they were bi. They’re not oppressed, it’s just a convenient excuse to try and be quirky. Being gay is so much harder than being bi, bi people shouldn’t even be involved.”

“Yeah, why are they trying to hog some of the spotlight? You can’t choose to be a bit gay then go back to being straight, just like you can’t choose to be black for a day and go back to being white when you realise how oppressive it is on the other side.”

I checked out. I checked out in such a rush that I probably left half of my belongings in the unwelcoming room.

I had heard conversations like that before, but to hear it so blatantly, and on a day where queer people are supposed to feel proud and included? I had never felt so invisible. Where did I fit? It wasn’t in the straight community...nor was it in the queer community, apparently. So where was I supposed to go? Was I going to be forever stuck in limbo? People can’t tell me that I don’t exist, that I’m not valid; I’m standing right here, clear as day.

The conversation seemed historical in nature, something that, in several years’ time, they’d look back on and wonder why they ever said something so ignorant.

It was possible to fall for any gender at all, just as it was possible to fall for one.

With the muted conversation still, no doubt, continuing behind me I bit my lip, blinked back tears, and screamed my frustrations into the loud crowd full of vibrant colours and personalities.

It was my day, and no-one was going to make me feel bad for something that was out of my control.