A Queer Femme on Bi Visibility Day
Are you bi?
I get this question a lot. It surprises me still.
Maybe it isn’t the question that surprises me. Maybe I’m thrown because my answer is no. Like, a resounding no. And people are surprised by that. And then it’s a thing where I feel the need to explain and we end up in TMIville.
I’m pretty open about being attracted to masculine of center women and trans guys. I’ve been with both and am actively dating both during this wild and crazy singledom thing I’m doing. To some people, that pretty much makes me bi.
To be fair, I tried it on once or twice. I think my very first dating profile after my divorce said I was bi, not because I liked manly men and girly girls, but because I was drawn to a certain type of masculinity that straddled the binary divide. (Yes, I’m pretty sure my phrasing was that pretentious.)
But like an empire waist that hits mid-boob, the identity of bi never quite worked for me. It made me curl my lip involuntarily and squirm with discomfort. Not because it wasn’t fabulous, but because it didn’t fit.
Over the years, I settled into a different identity, one I’ve come to love: queer femme. I practiced saying it. I watched how it landed. Turns out, it’s the perfect wrap dress that shows just the right amount of cleavage–comfortable, sexy, and so so me.
As my social media feed filled with celebrations of #bivisibilityday, I found myself wanting to tell my own experience of bisexuality. I hesitated, because it seemed wrong to take up space when the identity isn’t one I claim. But the whole point is that our identities are valid, whatever they are. Even when others don’t see them. Or choose to ignore them. Not only are they valid, they deserve to be celebrated.
So from this queer femme, who is so often read as straight, to anyone and everyone who identifies as bisexual, cheers. I see you. I celebrate you. It may have made me tug uncomfortably at myself, but damn, it looks fantastic on you.
