I came out to my diary as “bi-curious” in the spring of 2014. I’d always thought women were attractive, but for the first time I actually was crushing on a girl. For me, that was a game changer. I’d convinced myself that sexual attraction didn’t have the same weight as romantic attraction. Really, being merely attracted to women would be enough to for me to call myself “bisexual”. But at that point, I’d been through two years of college in which any girl who referred to herself as bi was slut shamed by both men and women, and was assumed to only be sharing this information to become more attractive to men. The idea that bi girls are really just straight girls that are open to threesomes is a depressing idea that continues the narrative that women are only on earth for the pleasure of men (It doesn’t help that bi men are assumed to be denying their full gayness, so in both bi scenarios, it’s assumed that everyone’s just trying to get with men). It also makes women who are attracted to both men and women feel extremely self conscious about sharing their sexuality with others.

I had a scattered coming out, from the autumn of 2015. By then I’d established that the bicuriosity was in fact a very steady state of bisexuality, but I was afraid to tell people. What I really feared was someone telling me it was just a phase, and not taking me seriously. So I waited, thinking that I only needed to tell people if I got into a relationship with a woman. Because otherwise, it was irrelevant information, right? Wrong. Even if you’re bi and you’re in a heterosexual relationship, you’re still bi. In a gay relationship? Still bi! That sexuality is still part of your identity, even if you’re married, or in no relationship at all. And I realized that, after about a year of trying to pretend it was just a small, hideable part of who I was. I told my closest friends. I told my family. My dad’s response made me cry, because of how sweet it was. He told me he’d read some articles to understand a bit more about bisexuality, and it made perfect sense to him, and he loved me very much. And that’s all I ever needed to hear. I never came out on social media, not explicitly anyway. There was a time where I thought I would, but after several years of going to Pride, obsessing over drag queens, and lots of doing theatre, I suppose I assumed people could take a hint. I tell people who I meet, when it is relevant or if it arises. I no longer fear sharing it. It is a part of who I am, and I want the people I care about to know that part of me too.

Being bi is difficult. Being anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum is hard, but let’s just focus on the bi experience for a bit. I’ve dated primarily men. That’s not to say I’m more interested in men than women, I’ve just had a vast quantity more opportunities to date in the hetero department. In my late college years in Colorado, and even in London, the queer scene is very much catered to the gay male. The big clubs you go to are never filled with stunning Ruby Rose lookalikes, but gay men of all shapes and sizes, and occasionally their heterosexual girl friends. The queer club nights I’m used to attending are filled with people who have no interest in me sexually, so it is a rather limited dating scene. There aren’t many club spaces aimed at women in Colorado or in London. There’s a few, but they’re not usually the clubs that the entire friend group wants to go to on a Saturday night, nor would I want to go alone. So it wasn’t until fairly recently that I was introduced to these types of spaces. About a year ago, I went to an event called Aphrodykie with a few girl friends of mine. It’s a club night which is put on every few months, aimed at lesbian women. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The girl to guy ratio was 8-1, maybe more. Everyone was dancing like no one was watching, but still being respectful of other people’s space. The tunes were completely lit, and so very queer. I was surrounded by women who were also interested in women. And that was a sensation I’d never felt before. It was a bit intimidating. But I did enjoy it.

It’s a little difficult for me to gauge women, in a romantic sense, as I’m already quite friendly, flirtatious and cuddly with my platonic girlfriends. And many women are as well. So I worry that trying those same methods on a female crush will simply result in a close friendship, and my actual feelings won’t be translated through my actions. I definitely am not a master of the flirting game, for either teams, but I can read men better. Which is why I have much more dating experience on that side. Not that I’m opposed to that. I love men. A lot of them are quite great. But I’ve also been hurt by many of them. By their ignorance, their lack of empathy, their desire for something better than me, and their nonchalance at my pain. I suppose good and bad will both come in any type of relationship, but sometimes I think I would be so happy with a relationship where I could communicate as clearly and express myself as freely as I can with so many of my female friends.

Threesome requests. Now, this topic must be addressed. There is many a young, hopeful, and depressingly ignorant and unsympathetic young man who has requested a bisexual girl for a threesome. I’ve had several. I’ve also seen many sexual implications or jokes made by men when I exchange flirty banter with another female, even if it’s just as friends. It’s difficult, when the porn industry puts into young men’s heads that bisexual women must also be into group sex, specifically that with another girl. It’s a fantasy for many men, and encountering a woman who’s interested in both sexes might seem like an unmissable opportunity to get something they’ve always wanted. But boys, stop making it about you. There is a very very strong chance she is not currently pondering which of her hot friends to call and invite to your house. When girls imagine intimate time with another woman, it may involve some sex. But it also might include eating pasta while binge watching Sherlock, then talking about our feelings for an hour while cuddling, then falling asleep to the sweet sounds of Norah Jones (that’s what I envision anyway, but don’t let me speak for the masses). And that vision most likely does not include you, valiantly ticking “have a threesome with two girls because no homo” off your bucket list. It’s unfortunate that men have been taught by society that they have a right to expect sexual favors from a woman, simply because of her sexual orientation. So boys, cut that shit out.

London Pride is a few days away, and I plan on celebrating with some close friends, wearing something obnoxious and colorful, and dancing for at least 90% of the day. I’ve been to quite a few Prides now, most of them being in London. It’s always an amazing party, usually resulting in a bad sunburn and a raging hangover, but plenty of great memories and fabulous photos. It’s a different experience wherever in the world you celebrate it. I love Pride, and I love what it means to our entire community. We wear what we want and dance and smile and feel the joy that happens when we are our most authentic selves. It’s about more than that though. True, we are out here dressed in our most gag-worthy attire, feeling like absolute queens. But Pride is also a time to remember what LGBTQIA people all over the world have fought against in the past, and the rights we are still fighting for today. We can celebrate, sure, but we also must keep fighting against the prejudices that still exist, some even within the queer community itself. Be kind, be understanding, and don’t assume someone’s story based on what they look like, how passable they are, or what you think they believe. Everyone’s story deserves to be heard. Though I must say, people are often more inclined to listen when that story is presented in every color of the rainbow (and backed by Whitney Houston’s ‘So Emotional.’)

Well, I’m out. Bi.