My Sexual Orientation is a Lie

Recently there was an article on Everyday Feminism about "9 Lies People Tell You When You Come Out as Bisexual," which I found to be pretty true. If you call yourself bisexual, which I don't anymore, since I find the term misleading and vague.

For the longest time, though, I (reluctantly) identified as bisexual. Reluctantly because of the many misconceptions talked about in the article, and not wanting to be associated with them -- especially the bit about bisexual people not being able to be faithful, since I got that exact (unfounded) complaint from my first two serious romantic partners when I brought up my bisexuality. Combine that with the biphobia in the gay community, and I preferred to not label my sexuality and/or to explain it as being able to be attracted to any gender. But even once I found out there was another word for that (pansexual), I kept calling myself bisexual because it seemed the most convenient and easily understood way to say I can be attracted to more than one gender.

I finally left the label "bi" in the dust when I departed the gender binary in the summer of last year. Calling myself bisexual - literally, attracted to the two sexes (the two most commonly acknowledged ones, out of several that exist) - didn't make any sense when I myself didn't feel female or male. So I finally, again reluctantly, started calling myself pansexual. Reluctantly because I knew I'd now have to explain the meaning of my sexual orientation to just about everyone, and then explain why I couldn't just be bisexual, and then still have to deal with their erasure.

(To go on a little side rant, no matter what EF may say, the term "bisexual" is a little trans- and intersex-erasing, because while individual bisexuals may not be transphobic or have problems with dating trans, non-binary or intersex people, the term itself implies that there are only two sexes, which most people take to be synonymous for genders. If you want to actually show support for trans, non-binary and intersex people, and not just make excuses, use a more inclusive term like "pansexual.")

But the thing that's really invisible is the fact that these labels don't even come close to actually describing my sexuality. I'm not bisexual - attracted to (feminine) women and (masculine) men. I'm not pansexual - attracted to every person of every gender. I'm actually, to make up a word, a queerophile, and when it comes to intimacy tending slightly on the side of gynephile. I like masculine women, feminine men, androgynous and non-binary and queer looking and acting people, and I seem to like to fool around with female or feminine bodies more than with male or masculine ones.

This doesn't mean I'll never fall in love with someone who doesn't obviously fit this description. There are notable exceptions, and also ways that the queer gender expression of my loves has played out in unexpected ways. So even given that, there really is no definite way to label my sexuality. The best word for it may be "queer" - a word so broad it barely says anything.

So it may seem like in the last 15 years I've come full circle, right back to where I started at not wanting to label myself. But this time, it's not because I'm worried about what other people will think of me. This time, it's because I've come to know myself, to know what I like in a partner. A broad label such as "gay," "straight," "bi" or "pan" can never fully capture that, for any person. They may be useful for other purposes, such as activism, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I prefer to just be known as - me.

I'm Not Just a Straight Girl who Also Likes Girls

In most of my past relationships, which have generally been with men who see themselves as 100% straight, I've come to the disheartening realization that there was a part of me they didn't get, or even couldn't accept. This shouldn't have been surprising, really. It can't be easy for a guy who's used to straight girls to wrap his head around the fact that wearing a skirt feels like crossdressing to me, or that I'd like to sometimes be perceived as tough and macho rather than as the soft and sensitive person I am most of the time.

I don't really know how much of this I share with other bisexual women - whether they also feel like being "the guy" sometimes, and don't feel very feminine most of the time. I do know that I vastly prefer a relationship without prescribed gender roles, where we can make it up as we go along, and I can be the way I feel like being, not what society says a human in a female body should be like.

It's not that I want to be a guy or that I don't want to be female. I'm fine with inhabiting a female body and even with dressing in a way that shows it off to a certain degree - although I kind of hope that with my sailor arms, even girlie shirts and tank tops look a bit macho on me ;) Mainly, I just feel that I don't fit in with other women, or more like with the conventional idea of how women behave. Part of this stems from a frightening level of internalized misogyny - women are shallow creatures who only care about shopping and getting their nails done, women are catty and gossipy - yikes! Where did that come from?!

I would venture probably from my rather judgmental mother, who dislikes shopping, fancy nails, makeup and all those other things that I grew up regarding as "feminine." I suppose I didn't really have a very positive idea of what being feminine meant while I was growing up, so I tried to avoid it. But not being able to (and not wanting to) be totally masculine either, I ended up in a sort of genderless void.

I suppose as a feminist I should try to reclaim being female, redefine the gender so that I can be feminine and still open doors for people, pay for dinner on dates, push people around in mosh pits and not give a shit about nails or makeup.

The prospect of that makes me feel very tired just thinking about it, but it would probably do the world more good than me sitting around complaining about how straight guys don't accept me ;)

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Update, 7/29/15: This post keeps popping up as the most popular post on my blog, and so I thought I ought to point out that it doesn't reflect how I see myself at all anymore. It was followed by this realization, and as of summer 2015, this post most accurately reflects how I see myself at this time. You can read a lot more about my identity in all these posts about gender identity and this one about my sexual orientation.

At the same time, I must acknowledge that this post about not feeling very feminine seems to resonate with a lot of female-assigned people - some of whom ended up being trans or non-binary, but also with cis women who just don't feel feminine. Based on the feedback I got right after writing this post, it seemed I had said something that a lot of female-assigned people that I knew were thinking and feeling. That's the primary reason I've left it up after all this time, when it doesn't really represent who I am anymore. It probably still speaks to someone, and if so, more power to you.