I’m Not Your Bisexual Girl And Pixie Pipe Dream
Too gay to be straight, too straight to be gay, so we’re erased in all aspects, needing to be either one thing or the other, when sexuality is a spectrum that can’t be defined so easily in extreme terms. When I mentioned my past partners were men, I have had the light of attraction die in women’s eyes. I have had their eyes light up when I mention my first relationship was with a girl when I say this to men. It’s an interesting dilemma that can’t seem to be fixed except by “fixing myself” in the eyes of society. I need to make more sense. I need to have what I am easily described.
Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s me.
My time is limited and precious. When I’m not working a fifty-hour work week, I technically have one day off, and that day is either spent with errands or replenishing all the energy I expended in my profession. This is what has happened with dating is that I generally don’t have time for it or, in the past, couldn’t find other queer people. Or even a community.
And, to be honest, I enjoy my company so much that I’d rather not spend it with someone else unless they are worth my time. I really love to go to things by myself because the expectations are my own and I don’t have to deal with someone cancelling at the last second. Which happens a lot and I’d rather just be accountable for myself.
I’m already introverted and have a wide variety of things that I already deal with, including my fluctuating mental health, severe clinical depression, anxiety, and PTSD, to name a few.
I work so many hours in a day, long shifts, physically and mentally demanding and emotionally at times, so after my work shifts, I’d rather not still be awake. I’d instead do what I need to unwind and repeat the process the next day.
My bisexuality is like a parlor trick. Some people find it sexy, hot, and exciting; others view it as a liability. I cannot be trusted not to leave them for another, my queerness in question constantly. I never found a queer community. My…