#85 - Hetero Incognito

Today’s words: Mark, Poison, Fund, Juvenile

Word count: 585

Completion time: 39 minutes

Summary: Is someone still bisexual even if they get with someone of the opposite gender? No. Obviously not. Bisexuals who get with people of the opposite gender realise that heterosexuality is where it’s at. They shed their bisexual skin and step into the tight-fitting lycra clothing of the glorious hetero. 



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I think that everyone goes through a ‘bicurious’ stage, whether it’s to add a little interest to one’s personality, or because yeah, they find people of the same gender attractive, no matter how deep or not those feelings go. Once, a classmate was willing to fund me if I kissed a girl in front of him; that was how attractive same-sex relations were, so no wonder people wanted to be affiliated with it. Only a few people graduated from ‘bicurious’ to ‘bisexual’, and I was one of them.

I was made to think of other girls as any smart person would think of poison – something to avoid and not to be ingested by any means. But, dear reader, I had already acquired a taste of the sweet nectar that was a fellow females’ lips, to go back after that was unthinkable.

The first girl was Charli, who I spent four months with. In her I saw my future, my only light, and to be around her would excite only positive emotions. I’ll never forget the way her body felt whenever we embraced. The second was Madeleine.

I met her when I was a little older and she entirely caught me by surprise. I never expected to fall for someone like her but, like an enthusiastic bungee jumper with a weak bungee cord, I fell, and hard. We met at a concert through a mutual friend and ended up kissing during a song (or several) that I don’t even remember the name of. I would have kicked myself a thousand times if I didn’t ask for her number, so I did. We were together for a little over two years until the magic just dissipated.

For eight years I indentified as bisexual, until I met him.

The juvenile affections that I shared with Charli and Madeleine were a mark or smudge on a page compared to my feelings for Owen.

Yes, I had shared many years with girls, but the introduction of a penis into my life and my vagina felt like a fire hose that blasted away any and all of my bisexual tendencies. How could a mere vagina compare to the powerful, regal stature of the phallus? There is no better cure for bisexuality in women than a penis; was it not Freud who said that women have penis envy? That is all the evidence you need, wayward reader.

What of the men who do not possess a penis? Well, men are superior in any way regardless, as society makes sure to tell us, so how could I ever think myself bisexual when women are far overshadowed by men?

Owen treated me better than any woman could: he kept my emotions in check, made sure to inform me what clothes looked best on me, and paraded me around like a trophy he had won in a football game. I felt wanted. Hell, I felt loved.

The next time that you ask if a woman is really bisexual when they get with a man, the answer is no, no we are not. Even though we were attracted to women in the same way that we were attracted to men, men are superior in intellect, strength, and performances of the carnal nature.

The promise of a relationship with a man has forever eliminated any deep affection that I ever had for women, and I am glad for it. I am glad that Owen has shown me the light, and that light is entirely occupied by men.

#53 - Shared Brain

Today’s words: Honey, Lemon, Badger, Monster

Word count: 389

Completion time: 50 minutes

Summary: If anything, instead of guys getting angry at feminists, they should be angry at what society is promoting as acceptable behaviour for the typical male. Feminists do not, repeat, do not hate men, like...at all

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For me to call myself a monster would only serve to promote the classic monster to a hero. What word that could be used against me had not yet been invented, it pains me to admit. Had not one lemon but two, or indeed twelve been sliced in half and squeezed into my eyes, it would still not be equal to what they endured in my hands. 

I had always been taught that I had immense power from the day that I had taken on a Y instead of an extra X; it was never expressed so overtly, but I had an idea that I was treated as the dominant sex, even as a child. Everyone had those ‘my sex (and therefore gender...? Though the two are not interchangeable in the least) is better than yours’ moments, but I genuinely believed it. I was willing to put my willy on the line that there was nothing a girl could do better than me, no fight that a girl could ever win over a boy, no IQ test that a girl could win unless they cheated or the test had developed feelings for said girl.

As a teenager, I thought that girls were crafty. They got a lot of things by flirting, dressing inappropriately, or playing up their weak side. It wasn’t right – us guys got things on fair terms, by using our strength, mentally and physically; when was the last time you saw a guy lift up his trouser leg to get free drinks? I legitimately used to think that.

I began to resent women at nineteen. I’d play along with their crazy games and when a little honey was at their most vulnerable, I’d turn the tables and gain the upper hand...not realising that society had already given me that for free. 

A website has said that the main enemy of the badger is mankind; if that be the case, sows of the world, hear my plea: not once was my mind my own when I was horrible to you. Though they were not all physical misdemeanours, I am apologetic in equal measures for everything. 

It takes a strong woman to realise and rebel against her position in the world, but it takes a stronger man to admit his privilege and work to correct himself from then on.