Loving Myself Is Hard

Queer pride is kind of a weird thing for me.  Because being bi/pan/omnisexual, whatever, is something I’ve always just been.  I knew at five that I liked girls as well as boys, and learned very quickly afterward that kissing girls as well as boys was frowned on, and would resort in you getting into fights with, oh, everyone, if they caught you.  Also the decision would be made to separate you from the girl you were caught kissing, because the little boys whose asses I kicked in kindergarten felt the need to tell the teacher why they decided to jump me and my friend en masse. 

So, that went latent for a long time.

In high school, my second high school, I had a best friend who I used to “get so drunk with” and make out.  We were both big bundles of self-destructive behavior.  We drank too much, did too many drugs, rode in fast cars with drivers of questionable sobriety.  She tried to out me to my parents, but I interrupted her with a confession of drug use, and got myself grounded to the end of my jr. year, or, well, actually, until we moved to Seattle 3/4 through.

In Seattle, I fell in with the Drama kids, and a Rocky Horror cast.  Hanging out with them, I met my first out queer friends, and when my best friend Paul described liking both women and men, I sort of started like I’d been hit with a glass of ice water, and said, “Yeah, me too.  Weird, I guess I’m bi.” 

Having a name for it kind of made it easier on me.  Sadly, at the time, that name wasn’t exactly in good standing in the Queer community.  “Fence sitter,” “Tourist,” “Wannabreeder” were just a few of the names Bi folk were saddled with in the late 80s. 

Paul, it turns out, was actually fully gay.  To the point where trying to have sex with girls made him a little queasy.  I remain fully pan/omni/bisexual.  I can’t say I’m not interested in people’s plumbing, I am.  Just, I don’t rule anyone out based on that.  Genitals are such a tiny part of a relationship, even a one-night stand.  I wanna get my cookies as much as the next person, but I find that genitals are only secondary to brain for that. 

So, the lonely bi-girl who had to hide her attractions to dudes from the lesbians she knew, will never forgive Dan Savage for his bullshit statements in the 80s, and which he continues to this day.  Fuck that guy. 

I may post more on this later.  I need to get ready to go to a party in a few minutes.  Some new friends, we’re going to be meeting their other friends and my social anxiety is trying to ramp up into over drive.