Confronting Biphobia with Scholarship and Courage
Beloved community, scholars, activists, truth-seekers, and everyone committed to justice: today, we gather not to whisper about biphobia in polite tones, but to confront it directly, with the clarity and uncompromising honesty that this fight demands. Biphobia is not abstract. It is not a minor inconvenience, nor a social quirk, nor a difference of opinion. It is structural, pervasive, and psychologically violent. It exists in families, in schools, in workplaces, in healthcare systems, in media narratives, and yes—even within communities that claim to be “inclusive” and “queer-friendly.” To survive as a bisexual person in a world that refuses to recognize your existence is to navigate a constant minefield of skepticism, erasure, and delegitimization. Let us be unflinchingly clear: bisexuality is erased, mocked, and invalidated every single day. People are told they are “confused,” “indecisive,” or “not really queer.” These are not idle insults—they are tools of erasure, weapons of a culture invested in enforcing a binary understanding of desire. To confront biphobia is to refuse to play by those rules, to speak truth where society demands silence, and to insist that reality—complex, fluid, multifaceted—is acknowledged fully.
Biphobia kills—not metaphorically, but in concrete, measurable ways. It kills mentally through chronic stress, isolation, and internalized shame. It kills physically through the lack of accurate health education, the omission of bisexual populations from public health research, and the systemic neglect of healthcare needs unique to bisexual individuals. Studies consistently show that bisexual people experience higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation than their gay, lesbian, or heterosexual peers (Feinstein & Dyar, 2017). Public health data reveals increased vulnerability to HIV exposure, sexually transmitted infections, substance misuse, and intimate partner violence (Barker et al., 2012). These are not abstractions—they are lived realities, measurable and devastating. Every statistic represents a life compromised, a human being made vulnerable by structural invisibility. Let us not be polite about this: erasure is intentional. It is a byproduct of a society that benefits from a rigid binary of sexuality, a society that depends on the erasure of those who refuse categorization. This is the uncomfortable truth: when you exist outside the binary, you are inconvenient. And when you are inconvenient, society attempts to erase you.
Let us also speak plainly about the myths that perpetuate biphobia. Bisexuality is not a phase. Bisexuality is not indecision. Bisexuality is not an excuse for promiscuity or a transitional state toward another identity. Longitudinal research demonstrates that bisexuality is stable and consistent (Savage et al., 2018). Across cultures and throughout history, non-monosexual desire has been recognized and documented: the Kama Sutra, ancient Greek and Roman texts, and Indigenous Two-Spirit traditions in North America all provide evidence of the historical reality of bisexuality and fluid sexual expression. To those who insist that bisexuality “doesn’t exist” or that individuals must “pick a side,” I say: you are standing on the bones of centuries of erased people. This is not rhetorical flourish; this is literal truth. Dismissing bisexuality is not a neutral position. It is active harm, a refusal to acknowledge reality, a contribution to the violence of invisibility.
Scholarship is resistance. Knowledge is power, but only if wielded with clarity and intent. When we name bisexuality, document its history, and teach its realities, we strike at the heart of erasure. It is insufficient to simply exist; existence alone does not dismantle prejudice. Evidence-based advocacy is essential. Mental health disparities, for example, are not the “fault” of bisexual individuals—they are the predictable outcomes of constant invalidation, cultural erasure, and systemic neglect. Health inequities, exposure to violence, and social isolation are structural consequences of biphobia, not individual shortcomings. To ignore scholarship is to participate in the oppression it documents. To teach, to document, to name, and to challenge is an act of survival and a radical act of justice.
But scholarship alone is insufficient. Courage must accompany knowledge. Courage is action taken in the presence of fear. It is the refusal to remain silent when society insists that erasure is acceptable. Courage manifests in confronting microaggressions, demanding bisexual-inclusive curricula, advocating for comprehensive public health interventions, and holding institutions accountable for their neglect. Courage is direct. Courage is uncomfortable. Courage is necessary. And yes, there will be backlash. There will be ridicule, dismissal, and derision. There will be people who insist that “bisexuality isn’t important enough to discuss.” But the cost of silence is higher: it is the perpetuation of harm, the continued invisibility, and the affirmation of erasure as acceptable. To survive quietly is complicity. To confront boldly is justice.
We must also confront a harsh truth: biphobia exists within queer communities. It exists subtly, insidiously, and often under the guise of concern or critique. Bisexual individuals are told they are “not queer enough,” accused of betraying gay or lesbian identity politics, or reduced to stereotypes of promiscuity or indecision. This internal policing is deeply cruel, because it masquerades as inclusion while maintaining erasure. Visibility is not charity. Recognition is not optional. Inclusion is not a favor to be granted. It is a demand for justice. Any queer space that refuses to center bisexual voices is failing at its own stated principles. Accountability within the LGBTQ+ community is as crucial as accountability outside it.
Activism that is grounded in scholarship and courage transforms knowledge into tangible change. This is not performative activism; it is actionable, measurable, and strategic. Public health initiatives must include bisexual-specific research and programs. Schools and universities must integrate bisexual history into curricula, both to affirm identity and to challenge erasure. Media must reflect the reality of bisexual lives, resisting stereotypical or sensationalist portrayals. Every initiative, every program, every policy is an act of resistance. Visibility is survival. Inclusion is resistance. Every study cited, every classroom discussion, every policy implemented chips away at the edifice of biphobia.
Finally, let us speak bluntly about ethical responsibility. Confronting biphobia is not optional. It is moral, urgent, and necessary. Every silence, every shrug, every shrug of “it’s not my fight” is a choice to perpetuate harm. Ethical action requires naming biphobia when we see it, challenging erasure wherever it exists, and committing to structural change in education, health, and policy. Two-Spirit activists, for example, link the fight against sexual erasure to the broader struggle for Indigenous sovereignty—an example of how ethical activism extends across intersecting systems of oppression. Silence in the face of erasure is complicity; courage is liberation.
Beloved community, the call is unambiguous: educate relentlessly, confront boldly, refuse invisibility, and insist on justice. Scholarship must guide understanding. Courage must fortify action. Ethical responsibility must direct collective efforts. This fight is not polite. It is not easy. It is not optional. It is necessary. To confront biphobia is to affirm life, dignity, and the full spectrum of human desire. Stand firm. Speak truth. Refuse erasure. Confront biphobia with all the rigor, knowledge, and courage you can muster. Do not settle for survival alone. Demand recognition, demand inclusion, and demand justice—for the lives, health, and identities of bisexual people, and for the integrity of a world that claims to value truth and human dignity.
Barker, M., et al. (2012). Bisexuality: Theoretical Approaches and Health Implications. Routledge.
Feinstein, B. A., & Dyar, C. (2017). Bisexuality, mental health, and minority stress. Current Sexual Health Reports, 9(1), 42–49.
Herek, G. M. (2002). Heterosexuals’ attitudes toward bisexual men and women in the United States. Journal of Sex Research, 39(4), 264–274.
Savage, M., et al. (2018). Stability and fluidity of sexual orientation identity: Evidence from longitudinal studies. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 47(7), 1935–1952.
Scherrer, K. S. (2010). Coming to an understanding of bisexuality: An analysis of identity development. Journal of Bisexuality, 10(2–3), 189–203.
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