(Unsent) Response To The Anonymous Gay Man Who Posted In A Bi Men’s Facebook Group
The Straights Aren't The Only Phobic Folks
This is Sitting Queerly, a newsletter focused on the late blooming queer experience, the lofty goal of opening up conversations and celebrating those who embrace their full selves.
A member of a bisexual men’s group I’m in on Facebook posted a missive a few months after I joined the group. They admitted they are actually gay and had joined the group to better understand bi men, as they have had largely negative experiences in trying to date them. Unfortunately, he felt that the group’s dialogue only reinforced his views.
I was a little on edge when I saw it—I was in the throes of trying to figure out what being bi/queer/whatever meant for me, what it meant for my marriage. I bristled at being accused of philandering, of sexual tourism, of just being pathological, because I was afraid that could be true and I just didn’t yet accept that.
I didn’t get to post a response before the moderators turned off the comments and the post was eventually deleted. I did grab screenshots of it (Part 1, Part 2) if you would like to read it for context.
But I did write a response. Because the reality of being perceived as “less than” or dishonest by the queer community was one of the biggest fears I had in coming out.
Below is what I wish I could have sent to him.
I query myself a lot about the very questions you posed regarding being a bisexual man. Whether it be during moments of post-nut clarity after watching two dudes go at it on RedTube or lying next to my wife in bed trying to fall asleep or as I fold laundry or mow the lawn or scroll on my phone while I kill time at my boring day job.
So far, I just have a lot of “maybes” and “perhaps”.
Maybe all I want is to be fucked by or fuck a guy. So far, all my fantasies involving men are purely sexual in nature. All about getting a dick in my ass or putting mine in another man’s ass. I’ve never fantasized about a romantic dinner with a man. Or sightseeing or clinging to a man on a roller coaster or walking hand-in-hand down a beach boardwalk gazing lovingly into their eyes.
Perhaps, at heart, I’m just a cheater, a roving dog. I’ll come clean: I’ve had some online chats with men in recent months since coming out that my wife probably wouldn’t be comfortable with. I have an OnlyFans (though only to subscribe to one creator’s content) and I have a DudesNude account (though it’s unverified). Probably the main reason I’ll admit that I haven’t done camming largely because I don’t have a private enough place to do it from.
Maybe I am a coward for not taking ownership of my sexuality. Plenty of other guys in the past have come out about their attraction to men, even when they knew it could lead to ostracism or much more dire consequences. Not going to lie, I have benefitted from people believing I’m just another cis white hetero man.
I appreciate that you don’t want to view all bi men in a negative light. I certainly appreciate how miserable dating is—especially online dating—though only from a hetero perspective because, you know, closeted and all that. I appreciate that you, like most members of humanity, just want to find someone to spend their life with and be cherished for who you are.
There are some things I know for certain:
I know I want to be touched by a man. In all the XXX-rated ways, of course, But also during conversations, playing a video game together or working on a woodworking project where I don’t have to act like I’m not attracted to him or can’t talk about how hot Chris Evans or Jason Statham is.
I know that I’ve never felt safe in who I am and I made a choice a long time ago in how to keep myself safe. Whether that choice was the right one is open to debate. I hope you can understand that I was still a child, completely dependent on a family that would not understand the questions I was having about how I felt and I knew no one who would.
I know I love my wife and take pains to not cause her harm or distress. She is a wonderful mother, a cunning adversary, a great partner. I cannot imagine my life without her.
And just as there are things I appreciate about your perspective, I hope you can appreciate some things about mine (and just mine, because I dare not speak for all bisexual men): In contrast to your certain and committed attraction to men, I am perpetually confounded by the swinging pendulum inside of me. I have spent my entire life maintaining an act and I’m not sure anymore which lines are and are not written for the stage. Every day I wonder how I can want to spend a day in bed with my wife and still be turned on by guys playing soccer shirtless in the park seen from our bedroom window. I wish I believed I could be welcomed into queer circles despite hiding who I am my entire life. I wish I didn’t have to risk being shut out of my current friendships and community should they learn I am trying to be a part of queer circles.
I hope you find someone to spend your life with.
Perhaps it’s petty for me to have held on to this. Part of coming out is not caring what other people think of you, right?
But then, isn’t coming out also about finding the fortitude to assert, to defend your identity? To confront those who want to erase who you are because it’s outside their worldview or disparage you because of their own limited experiences?
Despite some estimates that bisexuality is more prevalent than any other individual queer sexual orientation, it is commonly dismissed as mere experimentation or “the first step on the journey to being gay.” Bi folk, particularly bi men, are frequently accused of trying to have our cake and eat it, too, by otherwise presenting as heteronormative and thus benefiting from that privileged identity. Or that we’re just sex-crazed/starved/repressed and wanting to get our rocks off.
In the last few decades most psychologists, scientists and sexual health experts, based on research studies, have asserted that bisexuality is a valid human sexual identity with a spectrum of expression.
In 2013, the Pew Research Center found that only about 1 in 4 bisexual individuals are out to the majority of people in their life, compared to 3 out of 4 gay men and lesbian women. Bisexual men are even less likely to be out, at only about 1 out of 10. How much of that is because of not only the stigma from heteronormative culture and conservative upbringings, but also the perception that a community that has been portrayed as welcoming of diverse identities has been less so?
Let’s be better, y’all.
Coming in next week’s newsletter…
I tell you about my first tattoo and how we all deserve to create the beauty we need in our lives.
And if you just want to do sex with guys but not romance or relationship, ** that's ok too**. Love, desire, attraction, our own identifications and sense of gender, are all very fluid, fragmented and complex. Hoping you can find some more supportive groups, things to read, people to meet. Biphobia is a thing and it's daft.