It’s Pride month, and it’s time again when rainbows take over the country and remind us why we have a long way to go for true equality, and also why some men look better in tight shiny pants than women do.
In all seriousness, the last 25 years has both progressed us forward and moved backwards. We live in a society today where the Supreme Court says it’s ok for a private business to refuse services to a person or couple because they are “religiously opposed” to who that person is. But, at the same time, we have many more GLBTQ role models in the media, and although there is still a challenge for public figures to come out, being honest about one’s sexuality no longer banishes you from a successful career, especially in the public eye.
About 20 years ago I came out as bisexual. It’s crazy to think how that was 20 years ago, and how different the world was then in acceptance about fluid sexuality. At 15, my friends and I started the first gay-straight alliance at our high school — named “H.U.E.: the human unity endeavor.” At 17, I participated in a documentary on teenage sexuality for the Oxygen Network, where my then gf and I were filmed going to prom together and discussing the challenges of being queer in high school.
But coming to terms with my sexuality was not easy at all. My parents practically disowned me before finding comfort it telling themselves that this was “just a phase.” I struggled greatly at first because I was convinced something horrible was wrong with me, but then came to be quite passionate about and comforted by the fundamental belief that people are people and you fall in love with a person, not their chromosomes. That made a heck of a lot more sense then the alternative.
Today, clearly, I’m married to a cis man and quite monogamous, so it’s strange to identify as bisexual when in actuality I’m monomansexual or something. During Pride month I get nostalgic about my past life, but don’t feel I am relevant to the activities anymore beyond that of an ally to the community — which is perfectly fine, the community needs more allies. I don’t talk about my sexuality much these days, even though pretty much all of my friends would not be thrown for a loop should I choose to express my interest in taking Mila Kunis to dinner or divorcing my husband to marry Kate McKinnon (for the record he’d be totally be cool with that.)
Ultimately, though, I feel a responsibility not to hide who I am and what I went through because I know there are so many others out there looking to know they are not alone. Bisexuality is real and it’s not “just a phase” as so many people have told me — as if being monogamous suddenly makes you not attracted to other people, regardless of your sexuality.
Even today, I worry as I write this because it seems so personal, like something I shouldn’t talk about publicly. If I were gay then it would be different, but there is a stigma around bisexuality that’s hard to shake. The word itself centers on “sexuality” whereas gay or lesbian don’t have quite the same connotation. I often have to remind people that just because they are straight they aren’t attracted to every single person of the opposite sex, and any other sexual orientation and respective potential interest pool does not change that.
I still believe strongly that love is love and people are people. Regardless of our skin tone, our identified gender, our sexuality, and all of the other variables that make us who we are, we are all filled with the same needs and hopes as any other human. For the most part, we all hunger for connection, meaning, and control over our very isolated, meaningless, and out-of-control lives. And the end of the day, our moments of connection, meaning and control are those that make us feel alive. Why should we judge each other for anything that gives any of us those moments? And, why should we ever be ashamed of any of those moments we’ve had, even if greater society tells us they were wrong?
This pride month, I reflect on and reiterate that who I am is not and has never been “a phase.” And, for everyone out there who feels like a deviation away from the accepted norm in whatever fashion, know that the beauty of life is embracing our differences, not in attempting to assimilate as robots void of the wants that drive us and the ideas that help us all evolve together to whatever it is we as a species will become.
life with interest 