The woman sitting across from me was beautiful. She was strong and smart and butch, she was regaling me with tales of the adventures she’d had in her life, the fascinating jobs she had worked and the people she had met and 18 year old queer me didn’t know whether they wanted to be her or be with her. I could feel myself melting, wishing I was more so she would have even the slightest interest in me. It was my first foray into being a part of the community, even though I had known I wasn’t straight for 5 years at that stage. Spending time with a group of lesbians made me feel like I was home.
waiting for a term that explained how I loved and I never wanted to un-hear it. From that moment I was very proud of who I was. I never let it bother me that I was the only openly queer person in my year in school, I never found myself experiencing shame about who I was, I never thought for another second that I would ever be anything but accepting of myself. That moment of having my identity rejected from someone in my own community was a changing point for me. I ended up keeping that part of myself separate for a long time after that, never sure where I would feel comfortable saying it out loud again. My experience is far from unique; I don’t know a single bi+
But I still think of that person I was, the hurt they felt, the disappointment they experienced when being so dismissed. I know it isn’t right to hold one community to a higher standard than another but I do. I expect a lot more from the LGBTQ+ community than I do the straight, heterosexual community. I have seen our community grow so much, as I grew with it, but we still have so much more to do. As I write this, trans rights around the world are being attacked, being torn down. We need to ensure now more than ever that we support our trans siblings. We all need to be free to be who we are, and we all need to help each other get there.
We were free
to be who we are, but only as long as we fit the mold of what is deemed acceptable for our identity. We were free to be bisexual women
in the community but only if we were with a woman. We were free to be bisexual men in the community but only if we know we were eventually going to accept we were gay. We were free to be bisexual in the straight community as long as our boyfriends could watch or our girlfriends didn’t have to hear
about the men we were attracted to. If we were nonbinary and bisexual, well we were free to imagine what it would be like to exist weren’t we? I fear I’m painting my experience and my journey as wholly negative. I fear I’m glossing over how much my heart has grown from embracing my identity once more. I fear my words may scare younger members of the community into putting a hold on working through who they are. I cannot let that be what is taken away from this writing because that is not the way my story ends.
person who has not had their identity invalidated at one point or another whether it’s people thinking we’re doing it for attention or using it as a stepping
“It’s so nice to see younger lesbians be active in the community. We have to have younger people here, to keep the community alive, ” the woman said to me. “Oh no, I’m not a lesbian, I’m bisexual” I casually corrected her. “Oh, my dear you’re not bisexual. You’re a lesbian, you’re just not
Oh no, I’m not a lesbian, I’m bisexual
stone to being gay or just can’t make up our mind yet, but it never hurts as much as it does when it comes from within your own community. Can you remember who the first bisexual you saw on TV was?
I’ve watched friends and family (both blood and chosen) grow, and learn, and understand and apologize for their past actions that may have been invalidating. I have fully bloomed into the person I am as a part of this community. I write, and I act and I sing and I love because of this community and the support of my loved ones. Having a space where I am free to be who I am has helped my mental health, allowed me to come to terms with the pain I felt (and sometimes do still feel) from having queerphobic family members. I would never again return to that dreadful closet I was sent to that night in Loafers.
Mine was Alice Pieszecki from The L Word. The woman who in season 3 said “You’re right. bisexuality is gross. I see it now.” I understand for some people their journey to their sexuality was thinking they were bisexual and then realising they were gay, but seeing the first openly bisexual character in the show go that route with getting to know her sexuality better never sat right with me, not to mention that the next bisexual character they had was Tina who played right into the trope of “bisexual woman who doesn’t know what she wants and can’t stay faithful”.
ready to admit that to yourself yet.” I felt the magic of the evening shatter. I felt small, out of place, that sense of being home was gone in an instant. I felt like a fraud, sat in Loafers surrounded by what I thought was my community it suddenly seemed like everyone could sense I was intruding. I found myself disappearing into the closet I had never really found myself hiding in before. I realised when I was 13 that I was bisexual. The first time I heard the word I knew I could never go back to believing I was straight. I had just been
www.corkpride.com
#CorkPride2022
106
107
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker