Intent is Everything

butterofcolor:

here’s to all the quiet queers.

all the queers who eat micro-agressions and secretly cry themselves to sleep.

the queers who dress the way their cis mothers told them to.

the queers who think about killing cis fucks every half hour, but never say a word more radical than “sorry.”

the queers who sip tea at their friend’s house while considering suicide, since that’s just about all they can think about.

the queers who are living double lives.

the queers who put on makeup at 2 a.m. in a hand mirror, making sure to wipe it off before school the next morning.

the queers who go to work dead and come home to see the world.

the queers who fuck, and suck, and kiss with the same hands and lips they use to eat dinner with their well-meaning shitty-acting parents

the queers who are ugly to you, too fat for you, running from you with lips sewn shut

here’s to the quiet queers, since it’s about fucking time we stopped shaming them.

(Source: mascfemme)

bidyke:

Re: monosexism and biphobia. Do you use these words interchangeably? I notice more and more people are treating the two as synonymous and it doesn’t really sit right with me.

bisexualmind

Personally, I don’t.

But before I answer, I have to clarify something first, because a lot of people seem to think I invented the word “monosexism”: So, while this is incredibly flattering, the fact is I didn’t. This word has been in use in bisexual movements from the 1990s or even earlier. I’m willing to take credit for popularizing it on tumblr, though :p

Now to my answer:

I see biphobia as a particular aspect of monosexism, they are definitely not interchangeable. Monosexism, as I see it, refers to the structural privileging of monosexual identities and behaviours. So, monosexism refers, for example, to the belief that one can only be either straight or gay, that it is better to be monosexual than bisexual*, that only monosexual identities are “real”, that monosexual issues are the only ones deserving of attention, etc. Monosexism causes bisexual erasure (from media, literature, art, TV and film, etc.), it causes discrimination when it comes to activist priorities, budgeting, etc. It causes the social isolation that leads many bis* to have poor health and mental health, and prevents proper treatment and support that might help alleviate them. It keeps bi* people “low” on the “pecking order” and creates all sorts of oppression. I see monosexism as the main factor responsible for all the horrible statistics in the Bisexual Invisibility report, for example. So, basically, monosexism is the system, the base structure. It is everything which isn’t directly aimed at bi* people but nonetheless has the effect of eradicating our existence or legitimacy.

I also have to say that monosexism is a structure that first and foremost comes from heterosexism and the patriarchy - 99.99999999% of it comes from heterosexual culture. So for me, monosexism is a term that allows us to look at all the ways that the “broader” culture creates oppression against bisexuals*. In addition, it allows us to consider monosexism as a structure that affects everyone instead of just bi* people - for example, by limiting other people’s options.

Biphobia, on the other hand, is direct negative attitudes and treatment of bi* people. It’s one specific result of monosexism. So here we can think about the many negative attitudes and behaviours specifically aimed against bis*. For example, when people refuse to date bisexuals*, when bis* are represented in stereotypical ways in the media, when bi* women become the target of sexual violence (because they’re perceived as particularly sexy sexual objects), when bi* people are discriminated at their jobs because of their bisexuality (for example, because they’re perceived as unreliable, flaky, unable to handle responsibility or commit to their job), and, yes - when bi* people are treated badly by L, G, and T communities.

I think it’s important to make that distinction, because these are two completely different levels of oppression working against bisexuals* - and of course, I think that the room that biphobia occupies right now in bi* political dialogues is unproportionate, and that we need to pay lots more attention to structural, heterosexual, monosexism.

[For a teeny bit more on that, here’s the snippet from my book where I define the two terms]

And I’m just gonna go ahead and make this rebloggable, because I think people might find that helpful :)

onlybruises:

Once, a gay man told me that it was my fault (as a bisexual) that the queer community wasn’t taken seriously and that’s why same sex marriage hadn’t been legalized yet.

Another time, a straight lady told me that it was my fault (as a bisexual) that AIDS entered the heterosexual population.

Some days, I’m denied by entire identity.

Other days, I’m asked to quantify my identity on a how scale of “how gay, how straight”.

And then some days, I’m blamed for massive social issues that seem to me to be a lot more complicated than “a bisexual did it”.

If that’s not biphobia, I don’t know what is.

(Source: grandfuckie)

imfromdriftwood:

1.) I am a woman. 2.) I am married to a man. 3.) I work to defend queer youth rights and fight victimization. 4.) I am queer. 5.) I am bisexual. Most people hear the first two and assume that I am straight. They hear the third and wonder why a straight woman is working for the queer community. They hear the fourth and are confused. And when they hear the fifth, it all comes together in an eye roll. Bi-ignorance and bi-phobia are issues that I deal with every day of my life.

When I say that I am a woman, I mean female biologically and in my gender expression. On the continuum of gender expression, I mostly reside on the feminine side. I like to wear dresses with high heals, make-up and jewelry, carry a purse, shop at Victoria’s Secret, and get my nails done. There are of course the days that I am in men’s basketball shorts and wear my hair up to where it is shaved on the underside, but most people take one look at me and think that I am very feminine. When I first began working with queer youth, one of the questions I was asked was, “You don’t identify do you?” These kinds of assumptions followed me all the way to a date with a woman who actually asked me on the date if I were gay. I grew so tired of this that I decided I would change my appearance so that people could take one look at me and know that I was queer. I cut and buzzed my hair. I then had my nails taken off and I stopped wearing the dresses and carrying a purse. I completely altered how I looked, and it worked. I could walk into a room of queer people and no longer felt like an imposter. I was no longer asked questions of why I chose the line of work that I did. I felt completely accepted into the gay community. Only one problem, I hated to look in the mirror. I was feeling forced to express my gender in a way that was contrary to who I was, just to feel accepted. But even all that change to my gender expression was still not enough.

I could only get so far in the queer community based on my altered gender expression because it would all change the moment I said that I was bisexual. Once those words escaped by mouth, the bi-phobia from within the community would emerge. I had women not want to date me because I was tainted having been with a man. I was told that bisexuality did not exist; you were either one way or another. I stopped identifying as bisexual and started calling myself queer. I avoided ever talking about an ex-boyfriend and stopped seeing a lot of my straight friends. I felt like some sort of mutt, trying to hide my straight side and displaying only my gay pedigree. I couldn’t escape the bi-phobia. I would try to watch the L Word, hoping to see a bisexual character that I could identify with, but instead would watch her being asked to “make up her mind.” Several seasons later, she started identifying as a lesbian. I gave up the losing battle against other’s bi-phobia and realized the only thing left to do was fully embrace within myself being bisexual.

Embracing who I was felt good, and I started to date a wonderful woman who was supportive of my identity and encouraged me to put back on the dresses and high heals. I began to call myself bisexual again, this time with pride. I stopped thinking of myself in terms of my gay side and my straight side and realized that I was letting other’s perceptions cause me to divide myself. I came to realize that I wasn’t one-half gay, one-half straight, that I was all bisexual.

That relationship came to an end and the next person that I met was a man. Falling in love with and being in a serious relationship with a man brought back all of my insecurities. How could I bring him now into my queer world? He was fully accepting and wanted to go with me to my usual places, but I felt ashamed. I imagined eyes glaring at me, questioning me. It only got worse when he asked me to marry him.

Marriage was a hard decision for me. On one hand, it was a “no-brainer,” he was and is the love of my life. On the other hand, I felt like a hypocrite marrying when if by chance I had fallen in love with a woman, then marriage would not have even been an option. It was a long process to come to a place where I felt comfortable accepting the proposal. I discussed this at length with my queer family and friends. They told me that denying myself marriage, although a noble gesture, really did them no good. In fact, they said that they would rather see me happy and were glad that I had this opportunity. The general consensus was, why have one more suffering queer person out there if they don’t have to be? One optimistic friend told me that her time would be coming soon. A lesbian friend performed the marriage ceremony, and I felt as though I had the queer community’s blessing. All of my family and friends, both straight and gay, were there to help me celebrate.

Being married only added to my feelings of queer invisibility. When I talk about my husband, everyone assumes that I am straight. Add that to my feminine gender expression, and there is no doubt in anyone’s mind. I actually had a queer coworker complain to me that she was the only queer person at our work. I find myself wanting to scream out in meetings or in circles of new friends, “I’m queer!” It is funny because one of the criticisms I have heard of bisexuals is how easy we can blend into heterosexual society. If only those who made such statements knew how desperate I am to not fit in, to be noticed and recognized for who I am.

And who I am is bisexual. When I was with girlfriends, I was bisexual. Currently married to my husband, I am still bisexual. From my morning shower to brushing my teeth at bedtime, I am bisexual. It was never a phase, never a thing I did in college, never something for fun. It isn’t an identity that I tried on like a party hat. It was and is who I am. I don’t need to make up my mind. My mind, heart, body, and soul have been made up for a long time. I am bisexual.

I recently said to a young girl who proudly exclaimed that she is bisexual to be prepared, that it is a hard road. I hope that when she reaches my age, the bi-ignorance and bi-phobia will have dissipated. In the meantime, I will strive to educate all those whom I come in contact with that a person can be 1.) A woman. 2.) Married to a man. 3.) Work to defend queer youth rights and fight victimization. 4.) Queer. 5.) Bisexual.

bimagazine:

Ms. Gay Limerick is bisexual and has been blogging about it in the Irish lesbian blog Gaelick —

“I have been dating my best friend for the last month. My best friend is a boy. Before anyone starts throwing stones of “passing”, “straight privilege”, “heteronormativity,” or “attention seeking skank”, hear me out.

There is little point in trying to deny that parts of the queer community are rife with biphobia. I dealt with it a lot with Ms Gay Limerick and even more with Ms Gay Ireland. For the year and a half I have been out, I am very careful what I say to certain people. Sometimes it feels like the more political and vocal I get about bisexual identity, the more backlash I seem to get.

Previous to dating the current boy, I was very hush hush about my romantic life to anyone outside my best friends and my mom. I didn’t want the LGBTQ circle to find out I was flirting with boys, I didn’t want my straight friends to know I was shifting girls. I became overly conscious of avoiding gender pronouns and did all I could to avert the inevitable slut shaming that tends to follow bisexuals around. I even censored myself when writing Gaelick articles so I could be sure there would be no flaming.

Finally, there came a point when I realised that I was acting like I was still in the closet. In the same way I used to hide that I loved the ladies, I was now ashamed of not being gay enough.”

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