Dear Bisexuals

From a lesbian working to understand the error of her ways

My dearest bisexuals,

Roughly three and a half years ago (more recently than I’d like to admit), I made a statement to my mother that I regret to this day. “I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me sooner. It’s not like bisexuals have it nearly as hard as gay people do”.

I made this statement as I was talking to my mother about my recent break-up from my girlfriend of 7 years. In my mind, at the time, my girlfriend had suddenly realized she was bisexual (although I didn’t know how long it had been) and had decided to leave me for a guy. My heart was broken and, in my own insecurity, I blamed her bisexuality for the loss of who I had considered my one true love.

The Important Act of Listening

Flash forward to the present. Recently I came across an article in HuffPost entitled Dear Lesbians And Gays — I’m Bisexual And You Treated Me Like Crap. Upon beginning to read this eloquent, powerful, and ultimately true article by Beth Sherouse, Ph.D, I was struck to my core by one sentence in particular.

“I’ve finally accepted the fact that you will never love me back because I’m a bisexual woman, and you have shown me time and again that you are not here for me or my community, despite the numerous disparities we face in comparison to you and the non-LGBTQ community.”- Beth Sherouse, Ph.D

As I read on, I was further horrified (although this shouldn’t have been anything new to me) that Sherouse stated that she fell in love with a lesbian classmate who became the first of many people to tell her that she should just “choose” to be a lesbian. As I read these words, I found myself getting angry. I found myself imagining all of the times that I had been told that “I should just be with guys like a normal girl” or “that I was too pretty to be a lesbian”.

In yet another instance of injustice against her, Sherouse described a time when a drag performer asked her why she was at a gay bar to which she replied “I’m bisexual” only for the drag performer to laugh and say, “Oh honey, we all know that’s just a stop on the way to gay town.”

As my anger rose, I read on. When Sherouse was in grad school, a “straight” female friend repeatedly called Sherouse greedy, suggesting that she was promiscuous whenever she mentioned her bisexuality. This was despite the fact that Sherouse says they had slept together several times. “But she wasn’t gay, and apparently bisexuality wasn’t a valid option,” said Sherouse.

“There were the countless times one of you told me my identity wasn’t real.”- Beth Sherouse, Ph.D

Recognizing, Reflecting, and Doing the Necessary Work to Change

Beth Sherouse’s article shook me.

But you know what?

It shouldn’t have.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by these examples of all the times the gay and lesbian community failed her. I shouldn’t have needed to hear about all of the times she felt completely invalidated as a human being and her anger wasn’t mine to hold. Because it is my fault. It’s our fault. As gays and lesbians, we have failed bisexuals.

As I thought about Sherouse’s article more and more over the next few days, I realized all of the times that I myself had been the problem. I was just as bad as the lesbian Sherouse had fallen in love with. I was just as bad as the drag performer who publically invalidated her identity. I was just as bad as the “straight” girl who had called her greedy and promiscuous.

I started dating my ex-girlfriend when we were 14 and 15 years old. I fell hard and, although I was young, it was the first time I had genuinely been in love in my entire life. I was lovesick for her. At the same time, I now realize that I failed her repeatedly over the course of our 7 years together.

When we were 16 years old, I had a male coworker (my ex-girlfriend and I worked at the same small restaurant in our town) approach me one evening with a smug smile on his face. “Renee, you need to talk to your girlfriend. I don’t know if you know this or not but she’s definitely bisexual”. I remember visibly recoiling when he said that. I actually got angry. I told him he couldn’t possibly know what he was talking about, that she wasn’t bisexual, that she would’ve told me if she had any interest in guys.

Later, I approached my girlfriend about this and demanded an answer. Why had our coworker told me that? What made him so sure? I could tell she was frightened by the intensity that I had approached her with. She tearfully explained that she had no idea what he was talking about or where he would’ve gotten that idea. She promised me that wasn’t true. Being the ignorant person I was at the time who masqueraded as an ally of equality for all, I was pleased with her answer. I felt relief. All the while, I wore a rainbow wristband that was supposed to stand for equality, for the LGBTQ+ community of which bisexuals were supposed to be a part.

A few years later, my girlfriend and I (now 22 and 21) were sitting on the balcony of the small one-bedroom apartment that we shared. We were sipping wine, holding hands, and laughing cheerfully. All of a sudden, my girlfriend grew somber. I asked her what was going on.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you”, she said almost in a whisper. “I’ve been thinking lately that if you and I weren’t together one day, I don’t think I’d have a problem being with a person just because they had a penis, you know?”.

I was floored.

“So you think you like guys?”, I asked her, setting down my wine glass.

“I’m not necessarily saying that. I just think I could be okay with that”, she said.

“Why are you just now telling me this?”, I asked, bewildered to just be hearing this.

“I don’t really know. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about lately.”

Now that I think back on this conversation, I should have handled it better. A lot better. I should’ve been supportive, should’ve thanked her for sharing that part of herself with me. Instead, I treated the whole situation as though it was some big secret that she should’ve shared with me long before that moment, that I was owed that somehow.

As time went on, there were many instances where I made ignorant comments and was less than supportive of my girlfriend’s identity. Once, I even told her that I could get over it if she ever left me for a girl but that I’d be angry forever if she ever left me for a guy.

And that’s exactly what happened. She met someone else. A boy, that probably treats her much better than I ever did. It pains me to say that. When she left, she spared me the direct heartache of telling me the reason why she was leaving. While there were many reasons for this that I won’t get into here, I know one of the biggest is that she didn’t feel loved, embraced, or supported by me anymore. I did nothing to make her feel that way.

In this way, I failed her exactly the same way that the gay and lesbian community has continued to fail the bisexual community. I made her feel separate, and not in a way that celebrated the beautiful diversity to be found in the bisexual community, but in a way that made her feel inferior, irrelevant, and disgusting.

The Importance of the ‘B’ in LGBTQ+

To this day, I still have a lot of learning to do. What I’m taking this opportunity to do is to recognize all the wrong I’ve done, all the inaccurate preconceived notions I have held about the bisexual community, and am extending an apology to all bisexuals on behalf of the gay and lesbian community- including those who have yet to realize their failures.

We should be embracing you.

We should be celebrating you.

We should be fighting for your rights alongside our own.

We should be recognizing all of the beauty that you bring to the LGBTQ+ community.

I’m sorry we’ve failed to do so and, in saying that, I know that my apology isn’t enough. We have to change. We have to listen to you. We have to do better.

Today, I’m in a happy relationship with another bisexual woman. I’m fiercely proud of her. Every single day, I’m in awe of her strength and I take care to listen when she has something to say about her community. I’ve experienced firsthand the struggles she has experienced and that she continues to experience simply for being bisexual. I think back to that day where I stood in the kitchen with my mother, crying over my ex-girlfriend. “I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me sooner. It’s not like bisexuals have it nearly as hard as gay people do,” I had said.

Yeah, right.

I now see that bisexuals face a struggle that is unique because they receive hate from both sides: from heterosexuals and homosexuals alike. Neither of us will claim them, both of us sexualize them, and we all perceive them to be something that they aren’t.

If you’re bisexual and have made it this far in my open letter to you, I’d like to thank you for your attention. You didn’t owe me that and I appreciate the fact that you gave me a chance to say this. I’m far from perfect. I’m a lesbian that still has a lot of learning and growing to do. That being said, I strive every day to never repeat my past indiscretions.

I’m working to do my best to support you in a world where you haven’t received anything close to the support you deserve. I’m just one person but I will stand up for you in my everyday life when I have a responsibility to do so. And I do have that responsibility.

Some of the people I have loved most in my entire life belong to your community and I’m not going to continue failing them. I’m here to listen to you and I’m here to support you. I owe you that at the very least. You are valid. You matter. You deserve to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community as much as any of the rest of us.

And to Gays and Lesbians…

Now that I’ve taken the time to address the bisexual community, I want to take a moment to speak directly to gays and lesbians.

If you’ve happened upon this open letter to the bisexual community and made it to this point, I hope you’ve taken the time to reflect. I hope that you’ve thought about your past and recognized the moments where you’ve found yourself failing the bisexual community in the same ways I have.

If you haven’t, I’d ask that you’d think about a few things.

When you finally found the courage to come out, what was the reaction? Were you invalidated? Were you treated as though you were disgusting, immoral? Did those who claimed to support you turn their back on you when it came to standing up for you in public? Were you made to feel as though there were something inherently wrong with you?

The bisexual community faces that every day and not just from heterosexuals- we’re a huge part of the problem.

Have you ever found yourself in need of a community? Have you spent many sleepless nights wishing that someone out there could relate, help you carry on, and even help you develop a sense of pride in yourself?

The bisexual community is without a home and this is unacceptable. Made to feel as though they’re too straight for the gays and too gay for the straights, they’ve been denied that all-encompassing pride found in a community that we have been fortunate enough to enjoy.

Have you ever felt that those who know you see you as nothing but homosexual, overlooking all of the other facets that make up who you are?

We’ve made bisexuals feel as though they are nothing more than their sexual orientation and we’ve made them feel that that identity isn’t valid in the first place.

If you want to be a champion for equality as you claim to be, you can’t leave bisexuals out. It’s time to recognize, reflect, and do the necessary work to change.

We have to take the time and make an active effort to listen to the concerns of the bisexual community. We must be willing to stand up for them whenever we see injustice against them. We have to educate ourselves by taking a step back and allowing them to tell their story. We have to be willing participants in the fight for true equality. We have to be willing to see our mistakes and dedicate ourselves to never repeating them.

That’s what I’m going to do.

Join me.

Sincerely,

A Lesbian Working to Understand the Error of Her Ways