I watched ‘Am I OK?’ starring Dakota Johnson recently. If you haven’t seen it, go do it right now. It tells the story of a woman in her early thirties who has to deal with two big changes in her life: her best friend moving abroad and discovering what it means to be a lesbian late in her adulthood. Her character, Lucy, is so relatable. We meet her as an artist who is too scared to make art, has two friends, and a job that doesn’t challenge her. She lives safely, never trying anything new or taking risks. But life will force her to step out of her comfort zone and face her fears.
After many tears, a whole lot of self-doubt, a big fight with her best friend, and her first lesbian situationship, Lucy finds the courage to be herself unapologetically.
There is one quote from the film that particularly got me. When I listened to it, I thought, “Yes, that is exactly how I feel!” Lucy tells Jane, her best friend, “I don’t want to have to tell everyone this big thing. I know that it’s fine, and nobody cares, but I care.” As Lucy, the idea of coming out is not one I am fond of. I hate the fact that I have to announce to people that I like women. Maybe it is internalized homophobia or fear of rejection. But having to verbalize it, especially in front of family, makes me feel weird.
I know that my parents will love me no matter who I’m attracted to. I have their support. I am aware of that. But still, there’s this feeling inside me that assures me they expect me to date a man or marry one. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Who knows? A part of me is still scared to crush their dreams of seeing their daughter grow older next to a man.
I know they wonder sometimes. I think they might be too afraid of the answer to even ask.
I have never doubted my mother’s love. Yet I keep reminiscing about the time I jokingly said that I wasn’t sure I liked men. Her response was to tell me to stop joking. Maybe she thought it was my misandry speaking, which I’m less hesitant to show, but it was still hurtful to hear. I haven’t been able to bring up the subject again.
On the other hand, I know for sure that other family members (the religious ones) will not be so kind to me if or when they find out. I’d like to say confidently that I don’t care what they think of me, but rejection hurts, no matter where it is coming from. I want to feel loved and safe with my family. I don’t want to feel like a freak amongst ‘normal people’. I would hate to be deemed confused or someone who makes sinful, abominable choices. Someone who needs enlightenment before she burns into flames.
Pride month started strong with the old discussion about bisexual women taking their straight boyfriends to parades. I have zero interest in engaging in that conversation, but I do find it interesting that this theme (bisexual women dating men) has been taking over TikTok and Twitter in different contexts. The Brittany Broski podcast clip going semi-viral. The release of “Good Luck, Babe!” and its portrait of compulsory heterosexuality and how it can be an anthem for bisexual women (it’s not). I can’t seem to escape the dispute.
Lyrics by Chappell Roan’s single “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night. With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife” shook me to my core and made me wonder: am I going to end up being a stereotype?
Part of being bisexual is dating men. There is nothing inherently wrong with it. Yet we cannot deny that compulsory heterosexuality affects bisexual women greatly. A considerable number of women who have accepted in the past that they are attracted to women are just too scared or ashamed to make dating women a priority because it will mean changing the status quo. I have met lots of bisexual women in long-term relationships with men who are very hesitant to officially date women. Whether it is their parents' homophobia or their own, they have accepted their attraction to women, but they will not act upon it.
“I could sleep with a woman, but never marry one” is a common phrase among women exploring their sexuality. Deep down, they know they are attracted to women, but they are not willing to pursue that attraction. Or if they are, it is only in casual encounters. Never in serious, committed relationships. A study done on a population of 132 bisexual women between the ages of 18 and 49 noticed that 84% of them engage in opposite-sex relationships despite being attracted to both sexes. The conclusion suggests that the reason why the majority of these women dated men was due to the “pressure to conform to heterosexual social norms” and to make up for the available dating pool.
There’s also the fact that a lot of lesbians don’t date bi women, making it harder for us to date women. After some research (on TikTok), I concluded that lots of lesbians have been treated differently, oftentimes worse, in comparison to when their bisexual partner dated a man. When dating bi women, lesbians also realized that there was a reinforcement of gender roles within the relationship. I can’t say I blame them for protecting themselves. I also recognize that lesbians face a larger issue. If a bisexual woman feels guilty about decentering men, I cannot imagine how lesbians must feel. For us, it is easier to pass as straight. We have the option to fall in love with a man and conform to society’s norms. Lesbians don’t have that option. It can be freeing and confining at the same time.
De-centering men in romantic relationships and other aspects of our lives fragments the hegemony of patriarchy and poses a threat to the institution of the traditional family. Not all of us are brave enough to go against the current and choose a different path. I am never hesitant to shit-talk men. But recently, I noticed that when I’m daydreaming, I almost always picture myself next to a man. Why is that? The reality is that it would be so much easier to date men. A lot of bisexual women prioritize dating men over women, and I don’t blame them. It is less complicated. Dating men means you are fulfilling the expectations society has inflicted upon you. It doesn’t raise questions. It is your destiny.
Being openly bisexual is easy on the internet, where it seems like everyone is queer. Being proud outside of the internet is trickier. But there is a bigger issue that goes undiscussed, and that is that a lot of bi-women are scared of the emotional labor they will have to do when dating women. We have been raised to expect men to take charge. Ask us on dates, pay for them, take the first step. When you date women, you are going to have to put in the work. You’ll have to strip away from how you were socialized around gender. Dating men is not only easier because it’s mandated by society, it is also not as emotionally challenging as dating women. A lot of bi women are not willing to have a partner that challenges them emotionally. They find comfort in dating men because most of them are devoid of emotional intelligence.
I'd like to finish this letter by offering some helpful advice. I know it is easier said than done, but as bisexual women, we need to do a better job of challenging our compulsory heterosexuality and taking a leap of faith. Going against your family’s wishes, patriarchal norms and deconstructing your beliefs is scary, but hiding who we are poses a bigger threat—the erasure of our whole true identity. Burying it inside will eat us alive.
thank you for capturing some of the thoughts i’ve been having so well! i haven’t been able to relate to many of the posts i’ve been seeing on social media lately regarding being bisexual because of the misplaced criticism of lesbians but i’m really glad that your piece doesn’t place blame on lesbians and it can inspire bisexual women to understand our sexuality more deeply!
Really loved this Luisa <3 This is a really important discussion to have on the internet. I'm a bisexual woman, and to be able to date women, I had to fight tooth and nail against my compulsory heterosexuality. It took me years to admit that I was bisexual, and then another year to find the courage to start swiping on women on dating apps. The whole thing was such scary journey, and I had to commit to it: I deactivated men on apps for a while and solely focused on women. And gosh, the anxiety.. I was terrified on my first dates with women because I had no idea how to behave, how to flirt, how to do anything. But as time went by, things only got easier, and I've been in a wonderful relationship with a woman for almost two years now.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that yes, it is really hard and there is no manual on how to do it, but it is rewarding. Also, there is a lot of shame out there, and many people tend to shame bisexual women for dating exclusively men, which doesn't help. What does help, though, is bisexual women sharing how terrified they are and talking about it like you just did. The best thing we can do is help each other out.
Anyways, thanks for sharing your story, it really is needed. I also watched "Am I Okay?" and liked this aspect too. Yes, there is pride in being gay, but before pride, there is fear, and it makes so much sense. It's valid. Let's just not let it consume us