The "Are You Bi" Question

I get asked this a lot-especially by on-line friends. I'm never comfortable with this question, not because it's personal or anything, but because I'm not happy with the term...and all the cultural baggage that comes with it. First, as soon as I hear the label "bi" I hear the faint steel drums of a Girls Gone Wild commercial in my head. There's something incredibly irritating about the sight of two spray-tanned blond bimbos tongue kissing for the viewing enjoyment of their beefhead boyfriends. A part of me suspects these "see how wild and free I am" springbreak sapphos are only the slightly older versions of the same girls who in high school called me lesbo and dyke.

i really really hate this...

There's a frustrating thing where most web sites where your sexual orientation is included in a profile- including those for explicit sex talk, social networking and even regular dating sites- have a shared category for bisexual and bicurious. And while I certainly applaud anyone who embraces their curiosity, I don't think it's fair to lump my sexuality in with some 40 year old car salesman in Iowa who's always kinda wondered what it'd be like to give a handjob. I'm not curious about sex with women, I've had it- and depending on what exact line you use to determine if it counts as "sex" (not an exact definition), I've actually had sex with more women then men. Reversely, because of two long-term straight relationships taking up the majority of the 8 years I've been sexually active, I've had more actual sex with men than women. It's all very confusing.

this, on the other hand...

I also don't know if I like this idea that my previous experience somehow defines my current situation. I am currently in a monogamous relationship with a woman; does having had sex with men before somehow change the definition of this relationship in a way that it wouldn't if I had only ever had sex with women? By identifying me as "bi" my commitment, my love for GF is somehow reduced and marginalized... a half person unable to genuinely give herself fully to anyone. This is more insulting than hurtful (although it is hurtful, too) because it defines my ability to love as less than other people-which is funny, because I personally believe the fact that gender is not a driving force in my attraction means I have the capacity to love more. I mean, I guess it's fighting words to put out there the suggestion that straight and gay people are less capable of truly loving the person, but I do think moving beyond the restrictions of gender definitely has afforded me the opportunity to connect with a wider range of people.

And yes, it is maybe a bit of an issue in terms of our relationship. Lesbians can be kind of weird about women who are sexually attracted to both sexes (interestingly, gay men don't seem to suffer this problem...maybe because they believe that deep down in side all men are two drinks away from being gay). There's this an ugly myth in the straight male world that all lesbians need to "cure" them is a good solid fucking, and sadly, a lot of lesbians seem to genuinely worry about this, that bi women will ran back to the hetero lifestyle the first time a random penis is wagged at them. There is a palpable hostility I feel from some lesbians- like either I'm some silly little tourist killing time until I move to suburbia to become a baby-making machine, or that I'm some sort of tragic, damaged victim who only recently overcame the cultural pressures to be "normal". Ending up in the Womens' Studies department hasn't exactly reduced this feeling of somehow falling short; Dworkin style feminism still casts a pretty large shadow (no pun intended), and this ridiculous belief that female heterosexuality is somehow a symptom of cultural ills is taken as gospel truth by far too many women.

And most disturbingly, I can sometimes detect just the faintest whiff of concern from GF- that there's something lacking in her that I can only find from a man. I don't know what this would be; I've never dated (or wanted to date) a man who in any way financially supported me, and a quick review of my past relationships with men reveals a complete lack of interest in hulking he-man types. She doesn't really say it, but I can see it in her eyes sometimes, that fear that I'll leave her for a man. She's got very little direct experience with men sexually- as a lifestyle Domme she's dominated them, but that was always non-sexual, and other than some high school stuff, she's thoroughbred. And like a lot of lesbians with that distinction, she actually buys into this (male created) myth that there's something only men can provide.

i just don't know about this one...the underwear is pretty cute...

Meaning, of course, penis: do I ache for that bit of business, miss kneeling before that alter of muscle? Good grief, no. I mean, if you the reader happen to have one attached to your body...well good for you, enjoy! I'm sure they're very nice to have. But being on the receiving end was never really all that wonderful, truth be told. It's not that they're bad or anything...they can be quite charming and personable. It's just that they're a lot of work and not very versatile. Semen is an incredibly gross substance, which I can't stand having on my skin, let alone in my mouth (before my first experience, I assumed it tasted like frosting...I was very, very wrong). Fellatio hurts my neck, and I always feel equally demeaned when they look down and watch me doing it and when they look away...like I'm a toilet to dump their waste in. I am willing to take it on faith that there are people out there who genuinely enjoy bobbing their head up and down as the thing threatens to trigger the gag reflex, but I could never really find much satisfaction in it.
I'm not going to say I don't enjoy getting fucked (sorry...do you have a more honest word?) , but GF certainly has fucked me into a complete, quivering stupor...thank you world of plastics, and all your many shapes and sizes for every occasion!

We live in the Obama era (thank god for that!). One of the things that comes from this new age is a breakdown of outdated categories; is our president black, white, biracial...and does it matter? We live in the 21st century, but we're still dependent on the language and groupings of Victorian sociologists.

in looking for pictures for this piece, i stumbled on this one. i have no idea why, but i find this weirdly hot.