Clumsily queer

Photo | Elena Senechal-Becker

Coming out as bisexual in 2018

A lack of representation has historically hindered children from understanding themselves in relation to the world around them. Whether it be diversity in race, gender, sexuality, or disability that’s depicted on-screen and in the news, a lack of representation can be damaging to those trying to make sense of who they are. While finding LGBTQA+ representation has always felt like a challenge, finding an openly bisexual individual, be it a public figure or a character in a film, feels somewhat impossible.

Bisexuality is rarely treated as a viable identity in pop culture. We see this in Orange is the New Black’s refusal to use the term “bisexual” to address its characters; Glee’s referral to it as a “stepping stone” to identifying as gay; or in headlines that refer to celebrities as gay or lesbian even when they have come out as bisexual (look no further than headlines discussing Alan Cumming’s or Kristen Stewart’s sexualities to see proof of this).

The awkwardness in not knowing how to formally address bisexuality has come as a result of growing up in a world that has never really learned how to discuss it as a proper identity in its own right. Instead, those that identify as bisexual are taught to treat it as something to dance around.

Lee Pace’s recent public coming out is a perfect example of this delicate dance around the word. Originally outed in a February 2018 interview by W Magazine where he seemingly unwillingly stated that he had dated both men and women in the past, he later tweeted a clarification, saying that he considers himself a part of the queer community. While this would suggest him to be bisexual, he avoided using that label.

Perhaps afraid to have their sexuality seen as a pitstop between identities, as bisexuality is so often made out to be the well-worn path between straight and gay, many other celebrities and public figures have chosen to come out in a similar manner. During interviews, when asked about their sexuality, they claim to have dated or are open to dating anyone of any gender, rather than staunchly identifying as bisexual or pansexual. Queer celebrities, from Ezra Miller (“I’m open to love wherever it can be found”) to Zoe Saldana (“If one day I wake up and I want to be with a woman, I’m going to do that”), to Aubrey Plaza (“I fall in love with girls and guys. I can’t help it”) all dance around labelling their sexuality as anything other than an ambiguous open-minded approach to sex and romance.

While not wanting to adhere to a label is by no means a sin in the queer community, it is important to ask ourselves why so many within the bisexual community are often the ones to avoid naming their sexuality. The stigma that surrounds bisexual identity contributes to this hesitation of openly joining the community for fear of being branded as greedy or indecisive.

However, I don’t think celebrities are necessarily attempting to hide their sexualities out of any sense of shame when they refuse to put a label to it. Perhaps instead, like me, they have just gotten to a point in their personal lives where they have come out in so many ways that they simply don’t see it as important enough to deserve a grand “coming out of the closet” moment.

I used to associate coming out with sweaty palms and butterflies in my stomach, that felt more like a tornado than a flutter. However, after coming out as a bisexual what feels like hundreds of times, I associate it more with a flippantness that never ceases to stun the clammy handed fifteen-year-old still inside of me.

I recently went on a date with a girl I’d met through Tinder at an event venue I occasionally bartend at; and while she looked around, I went to say hello to a co-worker. He asked what I was doing there and when I mentioned that I was on a date, he immediately looked around the room and asked what he looked like. I emphasized that she was standing just over there, gesturing towards her. The momentary look of surprise on his face is one that I’ve become accustomed to, since most of those around me know that I recently came out of a long-term relationship with a man, and therefore they assume that I’m straight.

Knowing the sheer annoyance at having to repeatedly come out of some fictional closet makes it very easy to understand why so many celebrities come out with phrases that make less of an earth-shattering revelation and more of an “of course I won’t limit myself to one gender” tremor.

Regardless of how casually I view my identity, coming out has always been a bit of a challenge. Skepticism and questions tend to meet me when I address the fact that, although I have predominantly dated men in my past, I am not straight. One of my close friends made a joke about my recent date, saying: “You know once you date a woman you probably ain’t going back.” And while he meant no harm by it, it’s nevertheless frustrating to constantly be forced into a binary view of sexuality. Comments like these are why those in the bisexual community tend to waiver when discussing their sexuality, preferring to vaguely explain that they’re open to any and all possibilities of love, rather than firmly placing themselves outside of a binary that many find so difficult to wrench their minds out of.

While we may have a long ways to go until the world can comfortably adopt the middle ground of the Kinsey scale as a reality, many of us can still acknowledge that progress is being made against bisexual erasure, as 2018 has already welcomed several bisexual celebrities and characters.

Hopefully this pop culture wave of bisexuality, as seen in Janelle Monae’s “Make You Feel” music video; Charlize Theron’s blatantly bisexual character in the film Atomic Blonde; Frank Ocean’s casual insistence on seeing both sides in his song “Chanel”; or Rosa Diaz’s heartwarming coming out story on the television show Brooklyn Nine-Nine, will provide a much-needed confidence boost to the bisexual community. The steady increase of queer representation in pop culture and media will perhaps allow us to boldly claim our identity without feeling the need to say anything but that dirty word, bisexual.