Another day of randomized thoughts and beginning with my 8th/9th grade English teacher. She was one of the best teachers I’ve ever had and, hands down, one of the sternest; she could make the English language jump through hoops and on command. I hated English. Always got A’s in English going to school. When I start thinking about past participles, my brain wants to lock up. But the first thing she said to us on that first day in the 8th grade – she was my homeroom teacher as well – stuck with me: “Words have power and one should always use them with care.”
Scrolling through Twitter and my last visit for the night, I came across someone tweeting that bisexuality is nonbinary and some other stuff that I didn’t pay attention to because I got stuck on stupid over this. Now, I don’t know what the person who wrote this learned in school but the last I heard, “bi” and “binary” means… two. I’m not sure how something that’s literally defined as two sexualities cannot be binary since, also the last I heard, one is either born male or female and there are no other sexes. But I know what’s behind this: Gender and, um, once more, last I heard, gender has nothing to do with bisexuality because, well, the DNA doesn’t lie but it has everything to do with self-perception and whether or not you “agree with” and/or followed the time-honored gender roles which, it seems, a lot of people take issue with these days.
I was thinking that if my English teacher were alive today and she saw this, oh my – she would have launched a week-long tirade about the evils of butchering the English language and I’m sure that if she really could, she’s rolling over in her grave big time. And she could easily tell me the word that describes such a statement – I probably know it but just can’t think of it right now.
I went from this to the moments I’ve heard people say that they’re “bi with the right person” or “socially bi” as well as a somewhat “heated” discussion with someone who said this and I had asked them what it means, you know, other than what they had said and they launched into a monologue about how they don’t do it all of the time and I cut in and said, “Neither do I – and I’m very damned bisexual.” They went on to say that they didn’t do it with just anyone and I said, “Neither do I, well, not like I used to when I was much younger… but I’m having a “problem” understanding why you think that being “bi with the right person” is any different from me saying that I’m bisexual.”
I had to learn not to “lose my shit” over hearing someone say that they’re hetero- or homoflexible and insisting that it’s not the same as being bisexual. The first time I heard “pansexual” I was like, “What?” See, I knew that “pan” meant “many” which clashed with what I learned in biology class because, again, there are only two sexes but, again, when you ask someone to define the word, gender comes up – again – and which I understand is the “main difference” between being bisexual and pansexual. Um, okay, if you say so and there are many who do… and I don’t think they’re right and I’m kinda surprised that no one has coined the word, “pangender” yet or, if they have, I haven’t seen or heard anyone use it – and it is to note that the spell-checker in WordPress did not highlight the word as being incorrect so there’s that.
We say that actions speak louder than words… except when we’re talking about this. I used to be quite disturbed to see how badly we – humans – can mindfuck ourselves about sex and sexuality and on top of all the traditional mindfucking that gets laid on us about the right and wrong ways to go about having sex. Words have power and having this pounded into my head during two years with the same English teacher just makes me cringe even though, yeah, I’ve been known to do some butchering myself at times.
That and how we can insist and categorically deny that we’re not the duck we’re quacking like. My mind latched onto a moment in junior high school and after gym class and after mostly everyone had moved on to the last class except myself and one other guy. We’d kinda gotten into a fight during class and, as punishment, we had the choice of getting detention or gathering up all of the equipment strown all over the gym and putting it in their proper places and we chose this punishment – and we had to shake hands and get over it.
We got the equipment stored in short order and we hit the showers and, well, he gave me the most amazing blowjob and got one from me as well. As we’re getting dressed, he was laughing about us “kissing and making up” and I thought it was funny, too, until he was telling me that he liked to suck cock but he didn’t like guys “like that.” I was like, “Like what?” because I’d never heard this said before and he was kind enough to explain to me that he liked having sex with guys but didn’t like guys like he did girls. It made sense, well, after I thought about it later… and in detention because the teacher of my next class decided not to accept the gym teacher’s excuse for me being very late to class. I wasn’t alone because the guy who played a role in me being late to my next class was there with me as well.
He had said, “I’m not gay.” I said, “Neither am I.” He said, “I’d never fall in love with a guy like I would a girl!” and I said, “I wouldn’t either!” Well, many years later, I’d realize that this was a lie, but I digress a bit. I hadn’t given much thought to how I felt about guys other than liking to have sex with them. I liked the guys I was friends with; I liked, well, loved having sex with the ones I could have sex with, but I didn’t like them as I did girls but why would I since boys aren’t girls? Well, some guys acted like girls and some girls acted like guys but I knew about them but, nope, boys aren’t really girls so liking them as a gay dude would, well, I had it in my mind that I couldn’t and wouldn’t.
At this point in my thoughts, I am somewhat amazed at how I thought about this way back in the day – and not necessarily in a good way of being amazed. It wasn’t what I knew – it was what I didn’t know but I was learning a lot of stuff that I’d find were things that I just didn’t think about. I remember being taken aback in a huge way the first time a guy said, “I think I love you.” We had spent the whole weekend at his house and with him being “home alone” but had convinced his parents that if I could stay with him, everything would be okay and they agreed.
Not ten minutes after they left, we were naked and going for it like gangbusters; we had talked about wanting to have sex with each other a lot but, until this moment, we could never find the right time to make it happen. It was glorious. We sucked and fucked each other silly while barely taking enough time to eat and sleep and when we did manage to drop off to sleep out of sheer exhaustion, it was very pleasant to be awakened with him sucking me or, as we were spooning, he’d slide his dick into me and fuck me – or I’d do the same to him.
And that was just Friday. Saturday was even more of the same. I was fucking him in the missionary position and he’s clinging to me and I loved how he moaned and groaned and moved in time with me. I had kissed him – we’d found out Friday night that kissing each other wasn’t bad at all – and when the kiss broke, that’s when he said, “I think I love you…” – and I stopped moving. I looked into his eyes as I processed what he had said and checking my own feelings. I liked him – a lot – but I didn’t like him. In that moment, what that guy had said back in junior high school made a lot of sense.
He had said, “I don’t expect you to feel the way I do – it’s okay – but, yeah, I’m sure that I love you.” I got over being stunned by this admission and got back to what I was doing. I came and I did, in fact, love the way he reacted to this but was a bit bummed out when I heard him say – as I kept pumping away inside of him – “Yeah, I’m sure I love you…” The rest of the weekend was more of the same but at one point he had asked me, “Is it weird that I love you but I’m not gay?” I thought it was (man, I was an “idiot” back then) and more so when I knew his girlfriend. I didn’t say that it was weird but I said that I didn’t know how I felt but, in my head, I knew that we had spent a lot of time being very damned carnal with each other and, as such, I was able to say to him – truthfully – “I have a lot of affection for you but, honestly, it might be because we’ve been having some great sex. I hope that doesn’t make you angry with me.”
He said it didn’t. By the time his parents returned, he had said that after thinking about how he felt, yeah, he felt a lot of affection for me so maybe it wasn’t really feeling love but, eh, it didn’t matter; what did matter was having this time together and really getting to know each other better and, as he said, “Using our bodies to express our desire for each other.”
We most certainly did that. I would later wonder if we would have really fallen in love with each other if bad luck hadn’t shown up for us and his family moved out of the state. I wasn’t sure then and I wouldn’t be sure later on in life and until I met the guy I would eventually fall in love with, I just… forgot about whatever we felt for each other outside of a very high degree of lust. Much later, a woman would tell me that she wasn’t in love with me… but she was very much “in lust” with me. I remember trying to make sense of this… thing I’d never heard before but after she explained how much she liked having sex with me, okay – I get it. I think. Later, I’d think about what she said and how she explained it and I could “hear” my former English teaching saying, “Words have power and one should always use them with care.”
My thoughts went to a “weird” situation when and where I was having sex with a guy who made it clear that he didn’t like me… but he loved my dick. I had a major problem trying to parse and process this since, as everyone knew, you just didn’t have sex with someone you didn’t like and/or they didn’t like you. But here was a guy who made it very clear that he didn’t like me – and I thought his reasons didn’t make a lot of sense and then he had floored me when he said, “I can’t stand you… but I’d suck your dick if you’ll let me.”
And I did and, nope, don’t even ask me why I did because I don’t know why. Shit, I thought that I was a cock-sucking fiend and this guy made me look like I wasn’t. He wore me out sucking me and even had the nerve to tell me that his dislike for me was driving his need to suck me… and I didn’t understand it one bit. He tried to explain it to me by saying that his dislike for me had nothing to do with wanting to suck my dick but it wasn’t lust that was driving the need. He just didn’t like me… but he proved to me how much he liked – and dare I say, loved – sucking my dick. Hell, no – he didn’t want me even touching his dick although, in later encounters, he would allow me to jerk him off as he tried to “suck the black” off of me. I wasn’t just baffled by his… attitude about me; I was even more baffled over me being okay with having a guy who didn’t like me giving me blowjobs.
I would think that homey had… issues and they may not have “really” been about me. I knew he didn’t like that I was “smarter” than he was and some other stuff that, both then and now, didn’t make a whole lot of sense. I was… what and who I was. Always felt that I was easy to get along with. Sure, I wasn’t “liked” by everyone but that stood to reason… but this guy befuddled me and like I haven’t been befuddled since then. We wouldn’t get to the point of fighting and it wasn’t like we disagreed on a lot of things but, yeah, he really didn’t like me… but loved sucking me. I just went with it and more so when, um, he was very damned good at it.
A whole lot of years later, this would be the basis of my position that you didn’t have to like a guy like that in order to have sex with him – you just had to like him enough to want to. And that guy really did like me just enough to have sex with me; otherwise, he couldn’t stand me or so he said. I did find out the the reason why he didn’t like me and I think it “killed him” to admit it: I was way more comfortable being bisexual than he was. And, yep, it took me a while to make sense of that but I eventually did, um, after he sucked me off three straight times and had me looking to see if my dick was still attached. He was an… angry cocksucker. He was never rough with me and I trusted him to not let his dislike make him do something like bite the shit out of me – and when I mentioned this, he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
I… understood him in an odd kind of way. He had some internalized dissonance about his sexuality and just “hated” that I was so very comfortable being bi and like he was. Weird shit. Not that internalized biphobia crap I hear some guys talking about but I didn’t think he was suffering from some kind of self-loathing, you know, after I had learned about this. He very much liked himself… but not me so much. He just found an interesting way to express his dislike and, I would later think, trying to “prove” to me that he was the better bisexual… maybe. I didn’t know then or now. I was learning some shit about how some guys thought and felt about being bi and how it applied to them and, yeah, how it could affect their actions. I mean, if I can’t or don’t find a single thing likeable about you, I’m not going to have sex with you and, likewise, if you couldn’t find a single likeable thing about me, I wouldn’t be surprised that you wouldn’t sleep with me for any reason. This is “just the way it is” at times, right?
Years later I would be madly in love with a very married woman who was madly in love with me. The first time we made love, it was beyond incredible because we had made love for five hours nonstop and we would have gone longer if she hadn’t finally said that she couldn’t take any more. Then, as we showered together, she looked at me and said, “I hate you.” I cannot begin to explain how those three words made me feel in that moment but let it suffice to say that it didn’t feel good. My mouth was moving but no words were coming out and the look on her face told me that she meant what she had said.
She would then say, “I hate the way you make me feel – who are you that you can do this to me?” and to this very day, I feel like a total moron because all I could say was, “I’m just a guy.” She blinked… and proceeded to give me a tongue-lashing that was a close second to the only other tongue-lashing that stuck with me and beginning with, “Just a guy? No ordinary guy can make me feel the way I’m feeling now; no ordinary guy could fuck me the way you did and, sure as hell, no ordinary guy has ever made me quit. Never. Who the fuck are you that you can and have made me not feel bad about cheating on my husband?”
And as she continued to, um, either tear me a new one or she was really feeling some kind of way about herself, I hear, “You see? Words have power and her words are very powerful, and you’d do well to listen closely to them…” I didn’t get a chance to ponder this because she stopped talking to kiss me so deeply that I felt like a part of my soul went with her when the kiss broke. She “assumed the position” against the shower wall and said, “Take me…” and I took her and as I did so – and to my great surprise – I could hear her whispering, “I hate you. I hate how you’re making me feel and still feeling. Who the fuck are you?”
She orgasmed – again – and I, um, well, I was “going through the motions” of cumming but had long since been “shooting blanks.” She turned to look at me and I was like a deer in the headlights and expecting to get ripped again for saying that I was just a guy… but she smiled, kissed me and, once we were clean and had found our clothes – which were strewn from the kitchen to the steps and along the way to the bedroom – she was bubbly. Energetic to the point where she had gotten dressed to go for a run. Such an amazing woman who also understood that words have power and she took great care of how she used them.
She had told me that and I had laughed and told her that my 8th grade English teacher had told us this very thing on the first day of school. Indeed, she had told me that she loved me before we got around to having sex and something we both were trying very hard not to do and for obvious reasons. I recalled that when she told me this, she bade me to understand the power behind that word and, as such, it wasn’t a word to be used or taken lightly. Man, as much as I loved her (and really loved having sex with her), I loved talking to her because her words not only had power, they also had conviction.
At times, she would “give me da bizness” about that “just a guy” thing I had said and my “misuse” of the power of those words even though she said she understood that, at that precise moment, it was the only thing I could think of saying. In short (ha, ha), I got seriously schooled about the power of words and the consequences of abusing their great power. I thought I knew this already… and I really didn’t… but I do now.
To say that you’re “bi with the right person” hides the truth and that woman would say – and with conviction – that the power behind those words are being abused and carelessly so… and I agree that they are even though I do understand why some people say them. Saying stuff like bisexuality is nonbinary is another example; the explanation takes away the meaning of the word “bisexual” with the insertion of a difference that makes no difference. I do my best to understand why we do stuff like this and that we do to be able to make our sensibilities happy, for lack of a better word.
I get into “fussing moments” with some because I say that I’m bisexual and that’s the size of it. Not pansexual. Not heteroflexible. Bisexual. I have had sex with folks who, let’s say, feel differently about themselves. My memories of meeting, talking with, and having sex with a transgendered man – and before the word was even thought of and people were still calling such people trannies – is, at least for me, proof that anyone can be bisexual and no matter how they see or feel about themselves. While this guy was transitioning to become a woman, we both agreed that, um, women and pussy are good and always will be. It makes me wonder if the people who are saying that bisexuality is nonbinary have had any actual experience in this and, if not, they’re just “saying shit” to be saying it.
And they believe it. They believe that bisexuality is something other than what the word means and, well, I just get to feeling some kind of way to see this happening. I understand how difficult it can be for someone to really and truly admit to themselves that they’re bisexual. I kinda understand this “hearts not parts” thing that I am of a mind is behind this “nonbinary” stuff and, honestly, I still don’t think that the people harping on the fact that the person is of greater import that whatever their parts are really understand that when you’re thinking about jumping someone’s bones, you are considering the person first and even if you’re in a situation where you might make a snap decision to go/no go for it and, yeah, even if what you’re thinking about them is whether or not you wanna be bothered with them.
Yet, we do continue to insist that actions speak louder than words… except, again, when we’re talking about this. Too many of us – bisexuals – are content to insist, with their words, that they’re not the duck they’re quacking like or they’d very much want to start quacking like. I understand what’s going on when a straight guy has sex with a man and insists that he’s still very straight but he’s… heteroflexible which is merely a dodge to keep him from admitting that he’s really bisexual.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m “the only one” who sees how fucked up in the head we’ve gotten about sex and sexuality. I feel that the lines between straight, bi, and gay are, indeed, starting to blur and maybe even erased and it makes sense that we do get rid of these distinctions since, um, some gay folks have straight sex, too. If you have “gender issues,” I get it… I think but one can question their gender and still be bisexual and I know a couple of transgendered folks who are quite bisexual, not because I had sex with them but because they said they were and the one former guy said, “Just because I’m a woman now doesn’t change this about me.”
And I don’t see how it would or why it should. I sometimes feel like Ferdinand Magellan must have felt when he proved that the world wasn’t flat but having to listen to people insisting that it was and that he was a fool to risk sailing off the edge of the world. And, yeah, there are some folks today who say that the world is flat… and go figure. Words have power but what we think often serves to defy that power and, I think, to make us… dishonest about the truth of ourselves. We quack like ducks in our actions but our words insist that we’re not a duck – we’re something else that, upon further review, is… still a duck. A rose by any other name still smells as sweet and, sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar.
All of this doesn’t fuck with me like it used to. Why pay attention to it? That’s easy: To be able to understand how folks today see bisexuality and how very damned different from pretty much everything I’ve learned about bisexuality. It’s not everyone but, yeah, it’s a lot of people and I’m kinda/sorta not sure why we are mindfucking ourselves like this and misusing the power of words – and then using them to convince others that they’re not really the duck they’re quacking like or they want to quack like.
We are nothing if not human. For now, this is all I have for Day 16 of 2022. I know this is a lot but there’s never really a time when I’m not thinking about bisexuality in some way or form and, no, it’s not always due to a very bad case of sex on the brain. I want to understand this… dissemination and “abuse of power” when it comes to the words we use. The psychology behind it all is so fascinating as to how our actions don’t match our words in this. It’s like we’re “telling everyone” to pay no attention whatsoever to what we’re doing and who we’re doing it with and even why we’re doing it… but you’d better believe the words that are coming out of our mouths and, perhaps, not really understanding that those words, even in their misuse, have great power and, as such, there are always consequences.
And that is starting to scare me.