Confusion? Dispatch from the bisexual corespondent on the last half of the twentieth century
I was never confused, as many people think bisexuals are. I liked to eat pussy as much as I liked to suck dick (both at the same time is the sweetest spot). I liked to fuck girls and boys and be fucked by both. I wish that the lack of confusion about what I was had extended to how to live what I was, but that clarity was dearly won. I would have benefited from models.
Either sex could set me aflutter and I suspect that I could have made a life journey with one of either sex. The intimacy I have shared with Ann, surging with the physical and the spiritual, was born in early explorations, lessons in trust and ease of caring in the midst of fear, with boys and girls. With all of them, I learned that sex was only one door to intimacy and not always the end of a chase.
I also learned that people are anxious to be themselves with someone who listens and won’t punish them for asking uncomfortable questions. I loved people of both sexes, but I have only been interested in marrying one person, because I discovered a surprising fundamental disposition to pair bonding. Just that simple (is there a font for irony?).
I was to learn later that I was liminal, at a threshold and just beyond reach from either side, seen as betraying both by many heterosexuals who thought people like me could only be gay and deceiving and by many gay men who thought I could only be gay and in denial or passing (no one thought I was straight and just kidding). Sometimes I felt as if I aroused more fear in both camps than did members of either in the other’s camp. Not surprisingly, most lesbians were immediately comfortable with the bisexual model (abstract model, not Victoria's Secret model. Well, maybe both.).
I remember meeting my brother-in-law's friends in St. Louis. My brother-in-law, who among many fine traits is gay, had told them of my complication. They looked at me as they would at an accidently caught coelacanth; they couldn’t quite see what use I had in the modern ecosystem. Or, maybe Ann's presence inhibited them because she enjoyed their discomfort so much. She doesn't suffer impoliteness gladly, and is the unusual wife who, on rare occasions, has recommended my oral talents to other men. No shrinking violet, she.
This is hollow complaining for someone who looked so straight from the outside and was never bashed or bullied (well, I guess if you’re breaking bricks with your bare hands a certain deterrent factor exists). When you are a kid and the other, you feel isolation. If bisexuals can be out, we’ve been out for a long time to the people who matter. People’s usual reaction, before they talk to her, is to worry about Ann. Unlike Diogenes, over a lifetime my lamp discovered a few bisexuals like me, out to wives and in happy heterosexual marriages. Even coelacanths stumble on each other.
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