Lather, rinse, repeat.

Bisexuality, sexual expression and shame

Recently it’s come to my attention (not without anyone getting hurt unfortunately) that I am still a big shitty ball of shame over public sexuality, free expression, and my own bisexuality. Ridiculously, I had thought that coming out as bisexual would somehow free me of all the baggage accumulated over my years of supression. Not so, dear reader, not so.

Somehow, I thought that after coming out as bi life could remain the same; “move along, nothing to see here.” As I confront the shame that guards the exit (and stands outside the door pointing and laughing), I realize that all I’ve done is unlock the door. I’ve told people that I am bisexual but even I haven’t explored what that identity means to me and I’ve been deathly afraid to embark on any first steps into the bisexual world.

I’m not simply discussing nude men and penises either, though yes saying I’m bi means being able to shamelessly state I’m interested in those things; I’m discussing all those other items of gender and sexuality that I now have a choice in instead of blindly following the manly masses. For starters, what drives my actions? Do I act the way I do because it’s expressing who I am or because I’m trying to conform to something? If I’m trying to conform to something, is that something worth conforming to? What drives my choices? Do I make certain choices because they are the best choices for me, or am I still appeasing or appealing to others?

It was suggested to me by a fellow bisexual who was in a similar situation upon coming out that I make a list of actions that I have previously thought about as being specifically gay and as such have avoided. Such things could include getting a manicure or visiting a hair salon instead of a barber for my next haircut. If I don’t end up liking such things, so be it, but it won’t be because I’m not supposed to like them.

Additionally, I’ve decided to embark on being more publically bisexy. I am generally conservative (socially) and I’m not even sure anymore if that is something I want to be. I want to be more sexually expressive on the whole and that needs to be a big picture sort of expression that includes all my interests.

Bisexuality

For at least 15 years of my life, I’ve kept my bisexuality a secret. It’s a part of me that I have never really understood or been able to come to grips with. Growing up here, as in many parts of the world still, the negative stigma associated with being anything but straight as an arrow was rampant. Children deride each other as “fags” and “homos” before they even have an awareness of what sex means or have fully developed their own gender identities.

At an older age, things were worse and the potential for bullying high. I was bullied for many things including sometimes a presumption that I was gay on account of an avant-garde taste in clothing and participation in Drama, but never for my actual gender preferences; I kept those securely guarded. High School here was hostile to those with even an uncertain gender preference so I not only kept it to myself but actively suppressed all interest in the same sex. I was a little socially inept and emotionally unstable to begin with and denying part of myself probably didn’t help either situation, but I thought it would make me more normal. I wanted nothing more at the time than good friends and acceptance. I never thought I could get that acceptance being bi.

The first people I came out to were the five people I travelled with to a certain spiritualist youth camp. For all the woo and bullshit present, new age religion can be very accepting of and even praising of the different qualities we all have. That week of camp was a complete shift from the culture I was used to. Though I still said nothing of my bisexuality while there (I was serious enough about the religion at the time to have considered it far from the purpose of the camp), many came out at the event and I came out to my teen group during the return flight. My comfort with myself was fleeting, however. It didn’t take long after returning for my new-found worldview to shatter under the stress of school and reality that life was not a new age camp in a bubble. People could be mean, people were stubborn and not accepting of things that were different. My disillusionment with the religion some time later also served to cast doubts on even the better parts of my experience at that camp.

Shortly after that trip to camp I came out to my mom. We had a long chat about it in the car one evening and while I never felt judged, I was told that it was good that I still liked girls because life would be more difficult if I were gay (not that she’d love me any less, etc., etc.). While my mom knowing was important to me, I wasn’t reassured by her words or the idea that if I chose to enjoy the company of men I would be in for a harsher life. This further contributed to my suppression of my leanings in that direction and desire for a hetero-normative lifestyle. It hasn’t been mentioned in conversation with my mom since.

My current relationship some 15 years later is the only one in which I’ve ever been able to be completely honest with my partner about my sexual preferences. Her own openness about being pansexual herself has gone a long way toward helping me to get comfortable with my own preferences and identity.

For some time I’ve been of the not-unpopular opinion that I couldn’t identify as bisexual until I had some form of “proof.” There are a number of problems with that opinion:

• Gender preference is not a trade or profession in which you need to be certified to participate. I don’t have to prove my preference to anyone.
• There is no threshold for evidence that will alleviate all self-doubt. Enjoyment of a single experience doesn’t necessarily make a person gay, straight, or otherwise. How much experience do I need to prove to myself that I’m bi?
• No proof is required of any person’s straightness in our society. It’s the assumption and the norm. My approach has, for better or worse, been informed by the thinking of our society as a whole.

To date, I have never had sex with a man, I’ve never had a relationship with a man, yet I’ve known I was bisexual since I was old enough to download porn, perhaps earlier. I have in the intervening time practiced self-denial to extremes. Some of the ridiculously overreaching habits I’ve formed to avoid appearing to be bisexual include:

• never maintaining eye contact with men too long
• pretending not to notice shirtless or unclothed men (even outside the locker room)
• giving one-armed man-hugs
• laughing off and even speaking homophobic jokes and statements
• groaning along with the other guys at on-film appearances of male nudity

I recently came out about my bisexuality (on National Coming Out Day) to a large number of friends. So far all responses have been good or otherwise silent but interestingly several people noted that they would never have guessed. Evidently, my habits did the job effectively. In my mind I was always one small misstep from being found out.

I came out at this time because I’m tired of lying to myself and others about who I am. I’m tired of having insecurities. Bisexuality is a part of my identity that I’m not very familiar with. Due to the polyamorous nature of my current relationship, I’m free to explore that side of myself if I choose but unless I’m comfortable with and open about my bisexuality I’ll never be able to take that leap.

I’m still working on my comfort level and the idea of dating men gives me simultaneous excitement and queasiness. I feel awkward and uneasy as though I’m back to square one in dating; I don’t know what I want and I have no experience. I do, however, feel as though a door has been opened finally after being shut a very long time. It’s not that I couldn’t be myself before, but that I couldn’t be completely myself. I am no longer actively being a hindrance to my own experience and enjoyment of life and relationships.

I’m a little more free.

From Then to Now

Much of my exploration of sexuality and relationships has been an exercise in discarding assumptions and misconceptions adopted in my childhood and formative years.

While I was aware of dating, I had no idea how it worked. I was a hardcore computer nerd and had few friends who didn’t share my interests. In my early teen years, I discovered pornography and internet chat and mostly satisfied myself exploring both straight and gay porn, and (incredibly drab in hindsight) cybersex. I was lonely, horny, and completely socially inept. I looked on several opportunities that presented themselves in my junior high and high school years with utmost suspicion and feared I was being tricked.

I “dated” once or twice in my school years, never kissing anyone or being kissed. The dates consisted of an awkward, emotionless trip to the movies, little said afterward. I confessed my love once in the form of a letter for my then best-friend, and she expressed hers back. Neither of us acted beyond that point. I beat myself up over that for years.

For about 5 years after high school I didn’t spend much time on relationships. I ogled and creeped out a few girls in that time, I’m sure. In spite of having come out about my bisexuality to my family in my teen years, I essentially ignored my feelings about men in the interest of acceptance by otherwise good friends who I knew to be homophobic. I had a notion that life would be harder if I were outwardly bisexual so for all intents and purposes I played it straight. There was some flirtation during this time with long-distance relationships, but nothing significant or lasting.

While working in retail, I met my first adult love interest. She had a bubbly personality, dominating presence, and a no-nonsense attitude. She made the moves and I happily played along, falling very quickly head-over-heels. Shortly after, she broke things off realizing that this wasn’t the dynamic she was after. I got friend-laddered. For 3 years I tortured myself pining over her, hanging out with her and her boyfriends, holding out hope for a resurrection of her feelings for me. I was a retard.

Eventually, it happened that we were both single, lonely, and with little action from me I lost my virginity to her and we went to something more. It was amazing for a time; for a month or two we were on the same page, enjoying each other’s company and living with no expectations. She still wanted a friend/cuddle buddy with benefits and I was still set in my goal of a relationship leading to marriage. She agreed to try and this led to moving in together and an incredibly toxic year-long relationship wherein I completely lost my identity. It ended in a pseudo-breakup which neither of us was actually willing to pull the trigger on. I continued to live with her for 3 more years, watching her date others and dating others myself eventually, each of us being both a person we cared about deeply and the thorn in the other’s side preventing each of us from moving forward.

In my last year and a half or so of living with her, I studied pick-up and social dynamics, dated and learned a lot about myself and the flaws in my views on relationships and sex. With each relationship, I learned something about myself and my actual desires vs. those things that I was conditioned to want. By the time I met my current girlfriend, I had finally recovered much of my identity and had a clear view of who I was and what I wanted. I was at last able to be straightforward and honest in my intentions and desires. I met a girl who wanted me for who I was and vice versa. She was unreasonably tolerant as I went through a long-overdue and dramatic separation from my ex-girlfriend.

This girl and I are now going on 3 years together (over 2 years living together) in a relationship built on honesty, trust, and mutual support. This past year, we have been exploring polyamory together. She is pansexual and polyamorous by nature; she has a lot of love to give. I am finally coming to terms with my bisexuality and am not entirely inclined toward polyamory (though there may be components of cuckold fetishism and/or desires for group play lurking). Slowly but surely, I’m navigating my way through the jealousy and worry that I experience when it comes to her involvement with others, and am now able to feel happiness (compersion) for her positive relationship developments. I’m also finding now that I have the comfort and will to explore other relationships for myself including those with other men. I’m working quickly towards consistency in these feelings as I still am prone to fall into occasional worry and doubt.

For my part, I persist because I am incredibly happy with her. Unlike past experiences, I don’t feel as though I’m torturing myself. I know I’m loved. I have constant reassurance that I’m wanted. Sex is still fun and fantastic. My occasional moments of worry, jealousy, and doubt do not even approach a challenge to my overall happiness. I have a friend and lover who I trust completely and who reciprocates that trust. I couldn’t ask for more from her, and indeed our relationship is open to the possibility of experiencing the same many times over with other people. Things can only get more interesting.