Why Bi+ Isn’t Half-Gay and Why It Matters
For a while I jokingly called myself half-gay. First of all, it really doesn’t matter to me if someone wants to call themselves half-gay. Who knows, maybe I will use that term again one day. The goal of this post is more so to use this term to dive into the psyche of myself a few years ago and why, even though I was attracted to, sexually active with, and romantically involved with women, I considered myself more of an ally than an LGBTQ+ person.
The problem with the idea behind my use of the term half-gay, for what I now call bi+*, is really fundamental. There is nothing gay about being bi+. Wait, what?
Gay has evolved as a catch-all phrase for same-sex activities. “Gay rights” is a catch-all phrase for the rights of all sexual orientations that aren’t heterosexual. “Gay Straight Alliances” are used to describe clubs in schools that support students who aren’t heterosexual and their allies. Many lesbians I know use the term “gay” and “lesbian” interchangeably to describe their sexualities. I also freely use the term “gay” for my own inclinations or attractions when I’m feeling very attracted to women.
The problem with this for people who aren’t monosexual** is that their experiences are interpreted as a combination of heterosexuality and homosexuality. A half-gay, half-straight, so to speak. This ignores anything that makes the non-monosexual different from the gay and the straight. Solidarity has been a gift for many communities. You have probably experienced the feeling of “wait, you have experienced this too?!” when you learned about someone else who shares a similar experience. It can make you feel less alone, less ashamed, and more likely to speak up. Terms like mansplaining or manspreading have become commonplace because they describe the experience of many people –experiences that may have been hard to put a finger on before. Although they are criticized for being such minor issues in a sea of human-rights travesties, if you have heard these terms this speaks to the power of a large group of people having a shared experience and being able to communicate about it. Naming experiences is an incredibly powerful tool. So, back to the half-gay term. Well, isn’t a bi+ just half-gay? A friend of mine used the wonderful analogy of the werewolf. The werewolf is not a human, and she is not a wolf. The werewolf does not cease to be a werewolf regardless of which manifestation she has shape-shifted into. The werewolf is always a werewolf. So whether the bi+ is single, in a same-sex relationship or in an other-sex relationship – they don’t stop being bi+.
Here are a sampling of things that bi+ people experience that is unique to being bi+: not half-gay or half-straight. I have found myself in a conversation more than once where the people I’m talking to define their sexualities by the genders they’re not attracted to. For queer folks this can be a way to signal queerness. A lesbian might make a comment about not being into men, or a gay man will clarify that he isn’t into women. Depending on the circumstance it can be a way of signal to “your people” belonging and to potential love interests that you’re “batting for their team.” Heterosexual folks do the same thing. They will often establish their sexualities with anything from passive comments to more aggressive homophobic comments. For example, “he’s an attractive man, but I’m not saying I’m attracted to him, I’m not gay.” It’s an expression of our sexualities by showing the gender we are not attracted to. This is a bi+ unique experience. I simply can’t relate to not being attracted to someone based on their gender. I can’t signal to the queer folks that I belong by saying I’m not into men. I don’t have the gender-based distaste response I see in many monosexuals.
A potentially unique bi+ experience is my attraction to ambiguous gender expression. The more ambiguous the more likely I am to find them immediately attractive. There is something glorious about seeing someone, checking them out, and being like “wow you are HOT!” and not actually being sure where they fit on the gender spectrum. This could possibly be a shared bi+ experience.
Another unique aspect of being bi+ is that bi+ people mostly date people who don’t share our sexual orientation. Straight people will by definition date straight people, and lesbians/gays will by definition date lesbians/gays.*** Bi+ people can date straight people, lesbians/gays, and other bi+ people. There are much fewer bi+ people than monosexual people in the dating pool, so statistically speaking it’s not as likely for bi+ people to date bi+ people. This means even in a world of misunderstandings about sexuality, many monosexuals can trust they have a shared experience with their partners, this isn’t the same for bi+ people. This can be rewarding, because respectfully sharing differences is always an enriching experience, or it can be difficult as you navigate misconceptions or assumptions. Which brings me to my next point.
Bi+ people unfortunately also have the unique experience of being misunderstood or “othered” by both straights and gay/lesbians. This is one of the shared experiences us werewolves have. These are a sampling of experiences that make the bi+ experience distinct from just being “half-gay.”
The second problem with calling the bi+ person “half-gay” is the implication that the other part of the bi+ person is “half-straight”. This might seem like an innocent enough implication. Bi+ people are in different-gendered relationships all the time, right? The problem with using the heterosexual experience to explain the bi+ experience is, first of all, that bi+ people are not straight. It is generally understood in the queer community that the assumption of heterosexuality is problematic. Queer folks, particularly folks who do not necessarily set of people’s “gay-dar” will have a hard time being seen for who they are and especially seen as queer by other queer people. This is a common discussion point for femme lesbians who are not necessarily read as queer. If this assumption is problematic for lesbians and gays, then it is more than fair to ask that bi+ people are extended the same curtesy.
Secondly, bi+ people are often accused of “straight privilege.” Now, I am very happy to admit the areas of life in which I have privilege. My first post outlines some of the many ways I move through the world in a position of privilege. However, although bi+ identities experience different types of discrimination than homosexual identities, they do not experience straight privilege. This is because bi+ aren’t straight. Wait, what?
Here I would like to follow in the footsteps of a bi+ advocate I respect, Shiri Eisner, and point out the importance of the difference between privilege and passing. A comparison would be useful here. Transgender people often discuss the topic of passing. Passing generally refers to being perceived as a woman, if you’re MTF****, or man, if you’re FTM. The difficulty with passing is that once you are not seen as having the identity you have, i.e. in this case you aren’t seen as being transgendered, there are other risks. Maybe you have a new healthcare provider and they don’t give you all the information you need. Maybe you meet someone at a bar and really hit it off, but now you have to find a way to disclose your identity without knowing what kind of reaction you might receive in return. Maybe you’re in a conversation with other people who see you as “one of them,” and they start speaking poorly of sexual or gender minorities. Maybe you feel scared to speak up, scared to “out yourself.”
Acceptance can feel superficial when you don’t know how someone will actually react if they “find you out.” Of course I am not transgendered, so I can only speculate on the challenges of passing as it relates to gender. But I hope you can gather that passing is obviously not the same as privilege. Having male-privilege and being a trans who passes as male are two vastly different things. Certainly, the trans person who passes will have a different experience than the trans person who doesn’t pass, but again these are not questions of privilege. Similarly, bi+ people may have people assume they are straight, but this is not the same as having straight privilege. Because bi+ people are not straight. The statistics speak for themselves. In many studies, bi+ people fare the worst out of straights, gays and lesbians on many measures of mental health, addictions, and harassment.***** How is it that bi+ people are experiencing straight privilege if they are faring worse than straights, and also worse than gays and lesbians, on many measures related to physical and mental health?
So if bi+ people aren’t “half-gay” and they aren’t “half-straight,” what are they? Well, I’m glad you asked! We are bi+! We are similar: we also love people and want to find acceptance in community. But we are different: we aren’t straight or lesbian/gay, and our experiences are unique. So, call yourself what you like, maybe you’re feeling particularly gay today. But also know that regardless of how straight or gay you feel, you aren’t any less bi+.
*I decided to use the term bi+ because although I use the term bisexual for myself, I want to include other non-monosexual identities. I do not mean to say that other non-monosexual identities are somehow under the umbrella (or below) the bisexual label. I think of it more like a cluster and I’m using “bi” as the primary label because that’s how I identify. Labels are hard, bear with me, and certainly let me know if you have a better idea!
**Monosexuality refers to when you are attracted to only one gender: so heterosexual or homosexual.
***With the exception of dating a bi+ person of course.
****MTF refers to male-to-female, and FTM refers to female-to-male transgendered people.
*****For example, check out the Bi-invisibility Report: Impacts and Recommendations by the San Francisco Human Rights Commission
