An ambassador from Just Like Us talks about the way negative stereotypes can affect bisexual and pansexual people
BY SILVER HAWKER, IMAGE BY JACOB LUND
It was a spring Saturday, one of the first days of the year when it was warm enough to go without a jacket. My two friends and I had just been to a vinyl fair, and we were parading through town, chatting excitedly as we hunted for somewhere to purchase some doughnuts. Discussing upcoming plans, I told them I was off to an LGBTQIA Workplace Conference that I was really looking forward to.
Or, I was, until my friend uttered the words that have stuck with me since.
“Silver, I didn’t know you were LGBTQIA.”
Despite battling with internalised homophobia and bullying when I was at school, at college I’d found my feet and came out as a lesbian. This was something people could easily identify about me. I was dressed unconventionally, with pride pins, flags and a social media bio that said something along the lines of “too gay to function”. I was pleased that people were always quick to recognise me as LGBTQIA, as a proud member of that community.
But identity is fluid, and I have changed since I was a teenager. I realised I was not strictly into women, but rather people of any gender. Over the years, my style has also changed, and has become what is typically concurrent with femininity.
There’s no reason for me to be upset with my friend; it’s a fair assumption to make. Most people would see a woman in a skirt, glam makeup, heels and a boyfriend on her arm and assume she is straight. There is nothing wrong with this. I take great pride in my appearance, and I love my boyfriend more than words could convey in an article.
So why did I feel so frustrated that my friend had assumed me to be straight?
Even within the LGBTQIA community, there are hierarchies, intersections and assumptions that can be made. One of the most rampant examples of discrimination, whether conscious or unconscious, is making bisexual people feel bad for choosing a partner that puts them in a perceived “straight” relationship, much like my own.
Since my friend made that comment, I have been reflecting on the experiences that have made me feel “less than” for having a boyfriend.
One of them was at a meeting for my university newspaper, where two bisexual women in the team gushed about how much they wished they could date women because women are “pretty and dainty” but they had their “stinky, manly” boyfriends in the way. This level of gender essentialism not only excludes bisexual or pansexual people when they are with somebody of the opposite gender but reinforces toxic gender stereotypes that are disrespectful to others. Stereotypes that we, as a community, should be working to disarm, not reinforce.
I also recall seeing discussions online, in videos and comments from bisexual people themselves, expressing that they wished they weren’t attracted to those of the opposite gender. It’s upsetting to see this internalised biphobia, but it also sends a dangerous message – that our identities are only valid when we pursue relationships outside of what is perceived as heterosexual.
We all know that the LGBTQIA community is a community for those who are not straight or cisgender. But when we create a community that is quick to exclude even perceived heterosexuality, it results in messy gender essentialism, and the exclusion of those who should always feel that they belong.
Instead, we should be aligning with our values of inclusivity and love, to uplift every member of the community, and to challenge people who make others feel less valid for being in a straight-presenting relationship.
The following words feel awkward, even like I’m not allowed to say them, but I feel as if it is my duty to say it, so queer men with girlfriends or queer women with boyfriends can know they are a valued part of our community no matter who they choose to date.
I am a proud member of the LGBTQIA community, and I love my boyfriend. So what? It is all a part of my beautiful identity.
Silver is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBT+ young people’s charity. LGBTQIA and 18-25? Sign up now!
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