From Issue 2.4 - February 1996
What I want to know is, why are there so many people who have sex with both women and men who aren't bisexual?
My boyfriend and I pick up a man who happily sucks cock when the opportunity presents itself -- he fucks me, too. Yet he's not bisexual.
A longtime lesbian friend takes me aside to tell me about an affair she had with a straight cowboy. They used to park in his camper out in the back lot of the dyke restaurant where she worked, fuck like bunnies, then she'd go back inside to sling more latte and herb tea. She thinks it was the thrill of the forbidden -- not bisexuality.
One of my prostitute friends is lesbian through and through -- until presented with a hard cock, a condom, and $200. Another several whores I know say they love their jobs when they get to have sex with other women, even though they'd never go out of their way to arrange such a tryst outside of working hours. "Sex worker" -- another code word for "bisexual"?
And consider the cases of the well-known married senators who hang around with hustlers, or the lesbian cultural heroes (there have been several of these) who have carefully explained their other-gendered consorts in any other terms but bisexual. My favorite lesbian euphemism comes from writer Jan Clausen, who called her walk on the bi side "My Interesting Condition."
For heaven's sake, what does "bisexual" mean -- in sexual terms, anyway -- if it doesn't describe what these people do?
I acknowledge -- sadly and with some anger -- that biphobia is
rampant on both "sides" of the ineffectual "fence." Hetero people
are convinced that homo behavior makes somebody homo. If gayness is
an essence so potent that just one drop can taint the
heretofore-fully-het, why then do so many lesbians and gay men seem
to believe that only Kinsey Five-and-Nine-Tenths and Sixes are
"real"? In fact, as far as the queer community is concerned, this
homo-hegemony only kicks in when a Person With Some Gay or Lesbian
Experience is famous --and preferably dead, though many in the gay
community were temporarily willing to make an exception for
Madonna. Thus the phenomenon of the elevation to gay icon status of
famous dead folks who had more het experience than homo.
Naturally this
biphobia makes it culturally difficult for some to identify as
bisexual, though others seem to bypass the opprobrium and embrace
bisexuality with few problems. What distinguishes them?
Still
others reject monosexuality, all right -- but they reject bisexuality
too, in favor of "pansexual," "metasexual," or "just sexual." I
admit to some sympathy with this choice of
nomenclature. "Bisexuality" doesn't describe the parts of my sexuality
that respond to sex toys, some kinds of SM play, animals,
nongendered fantasy objects, certain transgendered persons whose
preference when asked "male or female?" is "neither," and that
ineffable sexual energy Tantric practice seeks to harness. I usually
choose "polymorphously perverse" when it's time to pick a sexual
orientation that acknowledges these things.
But this doesn't make me
non-bisexual. I'm bisexual at my core, and it describes me whether
I'm focused only on my own clit or on the sexual energy of the
entire planet.
I know it's inappropriate to co-opt another person's
right to name herself or himself, to come out at his/her own pace,
to embrace a label that feels descriptive of their deep sexual
truths. But I'm tempted to do it all the time, simply because so
many people seem to put their deep sexual truths last.
Folks
wonder how I write passionately and openly about my fantasies and
erotic experiences, how I seem in control and fearless about my
sexuality. Here's how: I'm out. I own not just my queerness, but my
bisexuality and my polymorphous outer limits (as I uncover them, that
is). Sure, I give some thought to whether, in any given context,
I'll be accepted or rejected. I care more about what the
Lesbigayristocracy thinks of me than whether my straight Baptist
cousin in Idaho has seen me on TV and is aghast. On rare occasions,
I even pass up an opportunity to "flaunt." But I never lie about my
sexuality. I honor its centrality to my Self, and I've constructed
my life so as to support it, not compartmentalize it.
I see the
alternative as having a sexuality that deflates and gets stored in a
handy carry-bag, like a spare inflatable mattress or a rubber
raft. When it's out of the bag and pumped up, it takes up quite a
lot of space. But when you're finished romping on it, you can stuff it
back into its bag again. I don't want a tuck-it-away-out-of-sight
sexuality.
Some bi-behaving people don't own their bisexuality
because of the sexuality, not the bi. It's just as true of many
monosexuals: sex is supposed to sneak up on you, incubus or succubus
in the night, happen to you, sweep you up, then recede like dark
tide waters. No wonder adopting a name which serves to help shape
your identity (in broad daylight) interrupts the romance of this, an
uncontrollable force to which you must submit.
But denial is born of
fear and of real or imagined weakness, and the problem with too many
people vis-a-vis sex is a pervasive sense of powerlessness and
danger that obscures for them every positive reason to embrace and
identify around sexuality and sexual difference. One reason to stay
in the closet is not being able to see your way out of it, and there's
nothing romantic about that.
What can we do to win the hearts,
minds, and sexual orientations of all those non-bisexuals who sex
with both males and females? Certainly we can continue to develop
bisexual community and culture, to create a bigger "there" there. We
can work against biphobia and homophobia and the lesbigays'
insidious "heterophobia" -- yes, I know queers have ample reason to be
phobic of hets, but we've all heard sneering comments about
heterosex that are no more appropriate or forgivable than hetero
slurs against fags and dykes. A sex-positive plurality of desire gives
each of us a place to come out to and fewer reasons to hide from or
dissemble about the sexualities which allure and anchor us.
Because if those of us who are out don't point the way, the way will
stay obscured; because a monosexually-ordered universe forces too
many of us, and our friends, and our sex partners, out of
integrity. Besides, when we're Balkanized into fragmented,
struggling-to-find-a-place-to-come-out, at-odds subgroups, anti-sex
forces triumph.
Who's bisexual? Each of us who understands it's
important not only to follow our desires where they lead us, but to
deny none of it, embrace all.
Reprinted with permission rom Black
Sheets, issue 7, the "Damn Bisexuals!" issue. For information on
Black Sheets, write to PO Box 31155, SF, CA 94131.
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Last updated: 10 February 1996