blue's hues

First, I am touched by your sensitivity to those of us who are labeled or who label ourselves as bisexual. I never felt confused in terms of sexual desire, but I have experienced doubts from others as to the existence of my particular complication. I was prepared for distrust and even hatred from a segment of the straight community, but was quite unprepared for the level of distrust I experienced from the queer community. To be fair, much of that distrust occurred when the community was defining itself and finding its way. When you're trying to chart a course for gay men, probably not a good idea to muddle the issue with semi-queers. I was also struck by the level of animosity, almost a blood sport, between gay men and lesbians. But, as a sort of political correctness has settled over the community, things have improved in these regards.

As to intimacy, I've come to view men as living on a continuum of comfort with intimacy from total inability to form intimate relationships with other men to almost total comfort with that intimacy. A man's place on that continuum has little to do with any orientation to sexual behavior. I've had very intimate relationships with straight, gay, and bisexual men that had nothing to do with sex. I suspect that how men find their places on that continuum is too complex to reduce to a single theory.

Humans seem to have a need to establish a unique position in the world. That need disposes many to define any who do not conform tightly to a defined position as "other." To homophobes we're all the same, "other." But, we're human and jostle to claim our own identities within the community.

If I knew everyone who was sexually attracted to men and women, I'd find a palette of gradation such that almost every member of the group would require his or her own label. That number of labels renders all labels superfluous.

Last, do I understand you to believe that the existence of labels requires kids to choose one? If so, I'm not sure that's true. Good families, good schools, good parents, good teachers, and good friends can let kids know that labels, while sometimes convenient, don't tell a very complete story, notwithstanding their need to fit in.

Thanks to a couple of good friends and some musing of my own, understanding how someone bisexual thought of things actually helped me understand being gay better. If I could understand that "in between" gradient, what it really meant, then I could better understand my own place on that scale and my feelings growing up.

I think kids feel pressured within themselves to figure out their feelings, if they notice much of a same-sex attraction in themselves, whether gay or bi. That's self-knowledge. But they also get pressures from their peers and family and from society in general to identify themselves, to label or pigeonhole themselves. The majority would have them label themselves as conveniently and solely straight. At least in my experience, it's much less likely kids growing up will find much acceptance for the idea of being not so straight. But when they do, there's again the pressure that surely they must belong to the "gay" label, meaning primarily or exclusively gay. And if they don't identify much with the perception they have of what it is to be "gay," then that's a problem, as it's another problem if they have some attraction to either sex and a larger attraction to the other, male or female. Because, as you noted, being bi is something not overly popular among either the straight or gay, uh, aggregates, for lack of a "community," per se.

The existence of the labels isn't so much what I think causes the pressure to define oneself according to one of those labels. I think it's the expectation by many (most?) people that surely you (or I) must fit some neatly defined label and only that one. But of course, words have shades of meaning that often connect to other words, or blur around the edges. I think yes, there's some pressure to label oneself, or to label others. The trouble with those labels is that they sometimes keep us from noticing the other shades of meaning or how those join or merge into adjoining areas or ideas.

If I say, for instance, that I'm white, that ignores the truth that, at a few points along the last few generations, there are either confirmed or rumored Indian ancestors and relatives, and perhaps others further back beyond what's in historical memory or what's been forgotten, lost. Never mind that I, generations down the line, might not mind, might be proud of, and might benefit from knowing genetically, if I have this or that particular group in my blood (and genes). That "white" label, or the very pale paleface white-boy me, blond hair and blue eyes, hides or covers or ignores the fact of those other ancestors (and probable present day cousins). (Not to mention that because a family or community might not approve, or an orphan might not know, that such things might be deliberately or accidentally lost to memory.)

Likewise, if I say I'm gay, that doesn't take into account that latent possibility that I might be attracted to a woman now and then, quite unexpectedly. Nor does being able to say I'm gay, being out, take into account my pre-teen and teen years, when I knew I liked boys, but couldn't simply say, "OK, cool, now if I can just find one who likes me back," instead of being reluctant or afraid to open up. (But hey, I was shy and it wasn't the most tolerant time and place, and I was uptight myself.) Saying I'm gay also doesn't really cover that period in the closet, when yup, I was gay, but not doing anything about it with anyone else. (Psst, Blue means it was a DIY kind of thing.) -- There are plenty of other people whose life experiences are quite different than mine, but they are equally "gay" or other labels; and I'm not the only one out there with a life history similar to mine.

There was a time when you were encouraged only to label as straight and nothing else, or when it was so assumed that no label was considered or accepted. Then there was a time, our present time, when other labels became permissible but still required.

What I'm trying to say is that I hope we can reach a time when we can outgrow the need for silly labels, when it doesn't really matter where along that scale we are, any more than our eye or hair color, and any more than our skin color ought not to matter, though our Western culture is still working on that one, including within its own Western definitions.

When having that label or indications of it can get a boy or girl, a man or woman, so harassed that they lose important parts of themselves (or their livelihood, home, relationships) or forced into anguish because of it, or feel hopeless, then that label is a hindrance to growth, personally or as a group. Too many do face negative consequences because they fit that not-quite-straight label. Surely there's some better way out there.

Note: I don't buy into the notion that if "they" won't accept "us," then we can just go over here and associate only with "us" in the gay neighborhood. That's isolationism, or less nicely, the ghetto mentality, or more childishly, "I'll just pick up my marbles and go home." That doesn't work. You can't be "only gay" (or only LGBT) and still participate with the rest of the world. If you limit yourself to just those gay folks, you're missing out on a large percentage (anywhere from 2/3 to 90% or so) who are straight primarily. "Us and them" just doesn't work.

How does that work by way of explanation? Does that make better sense?

Your clarification is more nuanced than the original post. I agree with your essential points. Thanks.

I wish I had more faith that humans will abandon a slavish devotion to labels.