Wow… how many times in my life have I heard this one and how many times have I wondered how someone just seemed to know that I wasn’t like most other guys? And how many times have I responded with, “Really? What makes you say that?” or some similar response?
Okay, so, being bisexual makes me different. In the beginning, jeez, I really did think that I was the only one who was like this even though, um, no, I really wasn’t but once that notion got wipe out of my perspective, I kinda stopped thinking about myself as being different even though I was now very aware that I still was.
You just get used to being the way you are; it becomes a part of you and, well, you just don’t think about it and, early on, that included not thinking about the possibility of someone being intuitive enough to sense or “just know” that you’re not straight and you’re not gay… but you’re something else and the person making the observation isn’t sure what you are.
Some would tell me that the way I walked told them I was different and someone once said this to me and the reason they gave that gave them that thought was how long my eyelashes were. Um, okay, my eyelashes are what they are and as far as walking goes, I did undergo years of martial arts training that teaches economy of movement and, well, you just learn to move kinda gracefully instead of loping or bopping along or otherwise tripping over your own feet.
Ha, a co-worker came right out and asked me if I was either a musician or gay because I came to work wearing a brand new earring.
I was getting an education in how my body language would often just rat me out and I wasn’t aware that it was and, early on, it kinda made me cray-cray trying to either tone down or eliminate my body language which was pretty weird since it didn’t take me long to figure out that I was trying very hard not to be… me. But I could often be in one of those states where my body language wouldn’t be screaming at people and, yup, someone would eventually say, “I don’t know what it is but there’s something different about you…”
And sometimes they knew exactly what was different about me and I’ll be damned if I could figure out how they knew and when asking them, they couldn’t explain it other than to say that they just knew I was bisexual. If I was someone I knew, I’d think that someone “outed” me… only to find out that wasn’t the case (but a few times it was) but if it was someone I didn’t know, well, shit – was my body language and mannerisms just giving away the farm? Was I subconsciously broadcasting my bisexuality to anyone who was capable of picking up on it?
Perhaps I was given how many times guys would just roll up on me and try to pick me up. I’d ask them, “How do you know I’m even like that?” or something along those lines and many would respond, “I just know it…” and, again, along those lines. Yeah, some guys would say that they were hoping that I’d be like that so being in those moments would have me wondering if this… phenomenon was some kind of vibe I was giving off or just and only wishful – and hopeful – thinking on their part.
Years later, I’d hear the word, “gaydar” which someone explained to me like this: It takes one to know one. Plausible… but I wasn’t buying it so much but it kinda explained some things about how perceptive and even intuitive some people are. Kinda. I found that if I had gaydar, it was broken or something although there were – and are – times when I can look at someone and “just know” that they’re different – I just don’t know how or why they are and, no, I wasn’t compelled to ask all that often.
It made me get all inside my head and thinking, “What do other people see when they see me?” It used to bug the shit out of me until I eventually learned not to mess with my own head about it since I’d already learned that trying to change what I thought others might be seeing stopped me from being… me. Still, I got pretty fed up with people asking me if I was gay but I understood why – you’re either straight or you’re gay, right? And I gotta say that it felt really good to look them in the eye and say, “No, I’m not gay…”
Because I wasn’t. I still couldn’t quite figure out those moments when a guy would come to me because he wanted to know what it was like to have sex with another guy. Some would tell me that they either knew or had a sense that they could talk to me about this and not go all medieval on them and for the guys I knew something about, it made sense because I’m pretty easy to talk to… but that didn’t explain those guys who I didn’t know (or didn’t know me) all that well.
It would make me wonder if something inside of them was pointing a finger at me and saying, “That guy over there? He’s the one you need to talk to!” or if, again, it was simply the guy wanting to do something in this and hoping that I would, too. And when I’d ask them why they’re talking to me about this, many would say, “I feel there’s something different about you…” or otherwise infer that they somehow just knew that I was the guy they had to have their first experience with…. or their second. Whatever.
Eventually I gave up trying to figure it out; if they sensed or knew I was different, well, they sensed it and/or knew it and there was nothing I could do about it. I did understand that for some guys, I was prey to them and just because I was another guy and not because they knew or sensed something about me.
While I was going on with my life and not really thinking about myself being different, well, I was different. I’m being myself and part of me is bisexual and that part is, as I like to say, just as normal to me as breathing is and something I don’t have to “think” about. I just am.
Sometimes someone will ask me how I’d be if I wasn’t bisexual and that’s a question I really can’t answer. Or they’ll ask me that if I weren’t already bisexual, would I have eventually become bisexual… and I can’t really answer that, either, since both things infer a condition that doesn’t exist but I’ve often said that if I weren’t already bisexual, yeah, I probably would have been eventually… but it’s nothing but speculation at best and, to me, not relevant because I am bisexual. I am different in that sense but in a more broader view of things, I’m not so different and/or unique because there are a whole lot of bisexual men going on about their lives and all that.
I’m “different” because of the way I think about being bisexual; it’s not just a thing to do – it’s a way to be and a lot of being bisexual has nothing to do with sex but how I look at the world around me but, yeah, a lot of bisexuals view their bisexuality in this way, too, so, no – not all that different as it turns out. People still notice it… and I see them noticing it; I see that moment of… confusion that appears on their face when something inside them are telling them that I’m different and they not only don’t know what’s different about me, they aren’t even sure why they feel/think that I am.
Sometimes, it’s pretty humorous to watch this happening and I’ll just “be patient” and wait to see if they’re gonna say something about it. Maybe they’ll say that they don’t know why I feel different to them and I’ll say, “I don’t know why, either – I’m just me and who I’ve always been.”
Because it’s true. I just don’t see my bisexuality being a “different” part of me and how some are of a mind that they’re “two different people” – I’m one person but a person who happens to be bisexual. It’s as much a part of me as the color of my skin is and I’m very comfortable about it that I don’t see it as two things – it’s just me and the way I’ve been for a very large part of my life.
Then again, I’ve had a very long time to take this inherent duality and make it… inclusive? Not sure that’s the right word. Not two different things about me – just one thing. Me. Five and a half decades of being the way I am which, again, means that I’ve had a lot of time to… incorporate my sexuality into the whole of what I am. We’re all the sum total of all of our “parts” and part of me is very bisexual… and some people, well, they’re just able to sense that. Still don’t know how they can, not gonna lose any sleep over it.
I was talking to Cityman about this one day and when he said that he needed to find a balance with his sexuality and I told him that it wasn’t about balance – it was about integration (and that’s the word I couldn’t think of in the last paragraph), being able to make being bisexual a seamless kind of thing so that being bisexual becomes just as normal as breathing is. You just do it. You don’t think about it. You just are. What you do, well, that’s something else but even if you do nothing at all, you’re still bisexual and more so when bisexuality, again, isn’t all about doing:
It’s what you think. It’s how you feel. It’s what you are. Different from a whole lot of other people? Of course you are and when you’re bisexual, you’re just a bit more different that someone who’s straight or gay. We think of this as straddling a line, living in some kind of gray area when, actually, it isn’t and if there’s really something different about me, it’s that I know this and I don’t question it. It’s one thing, not the two things people tend to think.
One person. Seamless. Integrated. Whole in that sense. I’m not straight and I’m not gay. I’m both and whether I’m doing something or doing nothing at all and it doesn’t make me uncomfortable… but why should it? Maybe, when someone says that there’s something different about me, my comfort level with who and what I am is what they’re picking up on?
I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m just being me… and I am bisexual.