The trials and tribulations of bi dating

For a bisexual, dating is like a wide-open field of choices dotted with hidden landmines where things can get weird fast depending on the players in the field, and how one approaches the dating game. I find that things get weird most often in the world of online dating. At least more websites now have a "bisexual" option when signing up and indicating one's orientation. Which is a marked difference compared with Plenty of Fish and E-Harmony, which only offer matches for either straight or gay/lesbian members but not bisexuals. Match.com has similar limitations as you have to choose one gender or the other to search for. The site that I used to be on the most was OKCupid because it allowed me to identify as bi and put search filters for people that I was interested in. But there's a problem with the way OKCupid filters matches, as noted by Maria Burnham in 2012:

"After I check “bisexual,” I have the option to click “I do not want to see or be seen by straight people.” But wait! I like men, too! In my previous relationships, both short ones and long-lasting ones, I have dated straight men, so of course I want them to be able to view my profile. My profile now states that I am bi and looking for guys and girls who like bi girls.

And so another conundrum. As much as I like to avoid stereotypes, I couldn’t help but wonder how many gay women would actively search out bi women on a dating site. Even if a gay girl is open to dating a bi girl, even if she doesn’t harbor preconceived conceptions about bisexual women, my guess is that to make things easier and more streamlined, she is going to search for gay women."

This author, and many others who have written similar articles about dating bisexuals, offers up lists of helpful ideas for "how to date" bisexuals. If you don't believe me, go to Google and type in "dating bisexuals is hard" and see what comes up. You'll see link after link of articles from Cosmopolitan to a variety of online zines that outline the stereotypes that prevent straight/gay/lesbians from dating bisexuals.

I gave up on OKCupid a few years ago because I felt like I was meeting friends, not matches. I thought I'd give the less wordy Tindr a try. What a mess! There is less text so you can't really write about your personal ethos or wax poetical about your love of butter chicken, or really give a potential date/hook-up/future partner a real idea of what you are like. Instead, Tindr connects to your Facebook profile (ugh, don't even get me started!) and your "likes" and photos end up on your profile. You get 140 characters to explain your awesomeness (gah, its like Twitter!) I signed up and because I have indicated on Facebook that I'm interested in men and women, it automatically signed me in as bisexual. Over the course of my trial use of this dating app, I was approached by 10 men for every 1 woman. It wasn't possible to only show me women interested in women, so I felt like I was swiping left for forever...and all that swiping made me give up on Tindr. It simply wasn't the dating app for me.

Too true! This has been my dating experience as well. Graphics courtesy of the Rogue Feminist.

I cannot tell you how many times I was messaged online by couples looking for a third. Although I do enjoy threesomes and group sex, I have never found a fun, sexy way of making them happen by setting something up with randoms from an online dating forum or Craigslist. It just doesn't happen. I'd rather meet someone in real life and if things progress into consensual group-sex territory, then great. But trying to organize something like that ahead of time online with someone(s) you've never met? Sketchy and creepy.

Bisexual dating is also tough because of a seemingly small dating pool. I think this graphic sums up what I'm trying to express here:

It took me some time to find these "mythical" peoples, but they DO EXIST!

Something that keeps coming up in online literature, and that has occurred in my own dating history, is the apparent need for bisexuals to be legitimized under the LGBTQ2 banner by dating partners of the same sex. We have to "prove" our queerness to folks who are monosexual. It's especially difficult when you physically look straight. My friends and I have this joke about 100-Mile Queers - basically, you can tell that the person is queer from that far away. On most days, my gender expression is fairly feminine and I get read as straight. I have longish curly hair in a natural colour (but I dream of magenta), I like to wear make-up and dresses, and don't have any visible body piercings (except my ears). I'll never forget when I outed myself to a co-worker about 8 years ago when I told her that my friend and I had entered a photo of me into an LGBTQ2 photography contest, and my co-worker asked me why that contest applied to me. Bam! Read as straight. This video that I found on YouTube brings up some issues that pop up for bisexual women who date both genders that I could relate to:

 

Just in case you are wondering, there is also a similar video about bi guys. Check it out!

Below is an interesting YouTube video about lesbians dating bisexual women. It's really interesting to watch how lesbians describe being with bi women. Insecurity around gender betrayal (in this case, "going back to men") seems to be the key issue around why perhaps lesbians are hesitant to date bisexual women. This YouTuber also had a very contentious video 3 years ago about what Lesbians Think of Bisexual Woman. Its shocking to listen to! There has been much dialogue on YouTube around that video, I recommend falling down that particular internet rabbit hole for half an hour to hear both sides of the story.

It's clear to me that things are harder for bisexual men than women when it comes to dating. Don't know what I mean? Well, I came across this article today and I was horrified by a piece data that came out of Glamour Magazine's sex survey:

This overt biphobia is very disheartening, and I think that this statistic may be a signpost of how Western culture shames men who have had sexual contact with other men. There is so much hype around masculinity, and there is a pervasive  belief that a man being sexual with another man somehow diminishes their masculinity and worth vis-a-vis straight men. Bisexual male writer, Eliel Cruz, writes that biphobia also:

"[can lead] to the idea that bisexual men are more likely to be HIV positive than men who have sex exclusively with other men or women...Our meta-analysis shows that bisexually behaving men are significantly more likely than heterosexually behaving men to have HIV but significantly less likely than gay-behaving men to have HIV," a primary author told HIV Plus magazine.This reputation stems from the early days of the AIDS crisis, when bisexual men were blamed for spreading HIV — then understood to be a "gay disease" — to women." 


I personally would date a bisexual man, its just that I've actually never had the chance. I'd love to hear from any bi male readers out there - what have your dating experiences been like? I'd love to compare notes...hit me in the comments below. 

Dear Me, aged 16

One of my reasons for starting this blog was inspired by the Dear Me project that I came across a few years ago whilst surfing the net. I thought about what I would write to myself, at aged 16, and realized that the majority of the wisdom I would have liked to imparted was about my sexuality. If there are any 16 year old bisexuals out there reading this blog - take heart (also, naughty! as this is an 18+ blog). It does "get better" over time, and I am happy to be sharing my stories with you.

I think it is a common human experience to feel as though there are no people "like me" out in the real world. I would argue that this feeling is heightened during puberty as teens are trying to sort out who they are in relation to everyone else. For bisexuals, I think that this experience is likely universal as there are limited access to bisexual stories in media or the news (and what is reported there is often full of negative stereotypes).

Some stereotypes I had to face in my teen+ years around my bisexuality.

Ever since Ellen came out during prime time TV, lesbians have had some sort of representation in media. And lately, things are changing especially for trans* and non-binary kids. However, I still don't come across such programming or education about bisexuality for kids. It would be great if such programs existed and were included in schools and in media. Specifically, I would like there to be more bisexual characters represented in child fiction, cartoons, movies, etc. While some folks feel as though such exposure isn't appropriate for children, I would argue that not allowing children the opportunity to learn about other orientations than heterosexuality makes them less empathetic to LGBTQ2 folks. Ignorance begets ignorance. Its important to allow children to learn about the rainbow flag, LGBTQ2 history, and culture, as they may realize they are a part of that community. It gives kids an access point - a place to start and jump off from.

Sexuality develops young in humans - most humans are aware of sexual attraction from around the age of 10 years old. Parents can often be rather uncomfortable around the idea of their child having a sexuality, but it's better to embrace something than shame it, no? Again, I feel as though with all the childhood psychology out there that things are beginning to improve. However, many LGBTQ2 kids experience negative commentary at home around sexuality that falls outside of what is considered "normal."

This, so much THIS.

Without further ado, here's a letter that I wrote to my 16 year old self:

Dear Me, aged 16,

I know that you are full of frustration and angst these days. You feel that you are changing in ways that your family is unable and unwilling to support. You feel lost, lonely, and uncertain about who you are some days. You feel angry and feel that you are being controlled by your family. You came out to them because you wanted to share your newfound sense of self-understanding, and they reacted so harshly that you just want to run screaming back into the closet for good. You wish that your family would just accept you for who you are. It's likely that your family will not be able to give you what you need - they have done their best with what they know and can do, and it's time to focus on you. Don't spend too much time hating your parents for things they cannot understand. It's 1997, and things won't really normalize for LGBTQ folks for another 15+ years. Know that your parents will come to accept your sexuality in time, even if they don't understand it.

Stop looking for acceptance outside of yourself. I know this is hard to do because you have been more or less programmed this way by school and parental beliefs. But in this, you must actively strive to look inward for recognition and gratitude - and truly know that the only person's opinion that matters is yours. You must learn to love and accept yourself. If you don't, how can you love or accept anyone else? You must learn that even though you are a horny, pent-up teenager that it's better to wait to have sex with someone who knows you well and cares about you instead of random hook-ups fueled by insecurity and feelings of emptiness. This doesn't mean having to wait years for sex, just be smart about it. People (specifically, men) will try to take advantage of your insecurities around sex and belonging. Trust me, I know. Do NOT give in to feelings of worthlessness and fear of being alone. Do NOT engage in sex with anyone who does not respect you or your evolving boundaries. Trust your intuition about people - if you don't feel safe around someone, you likely aren't. Protect your body, your sexuality, and your heart. These are precious things that mean more than money, fame, or recognition. You don't need alcohol to gain access to people who are interested in sex. In fact, you should avoid alcohol/sex interactions wherever possible because these two things don't mix well for you. Learn how to pleasure yourself first - learn your body and what feels good to you so you can better communicate when you are with a partner down the road.

It's awesome that you like both boys and girls. No, there aren't many openly bisexual people in pop culture that you can look up to for role models, but that doesn't mean that you are alone in your bi-ness. Just because you haven't kissed many girls doesn't mean that you aren't bi. You are. It's not a phase. You don't need to explain, justify, or make excuses for your sexuality - especially to people who may not value or accept it. Save your energy for the people who are interested in you, ALL of you, and explore friendships first before moving into the realm of intimacy. Read more - especially books about and for LGBTQ2 people. It will help give you a starting point, exposure to rainbow culture, and give you things to think about to help you figure out your sexuality and what you want for yourself.

Don't let your family shame you for being different. Don't let their judgements prevent you from exploring your sexuality in a safe manner. You will move out of your parent's house and be able to live your life however you want by the time you are 23. I know that university seems like forever away, but please do get involved in Out on Campus instead of shunning it, do explore your sexuality instead of avoiding it. Your years at university are a perfect opportunity to meet other queer folk and learn about yourself in a broader LGBTQ context. Spend time getting to know your queerness and that of other folks. Don't be afraid of your desires, even if you are unclear what they "mean" or where they might be coming "from." Your desires will change over time - some will stay constant, some will ebb and flow, and others will strangely come out of left field and become very important to you. All of this is OK and is a natural process for the maturing human. Don't rush through learning about your process! It'll be many years before you have a clear understanding of which desires are solid, and which are more mutable for you. 

Polyamory is a thing that you need to know about. It is not bad, weird, nor morally wrong. It will allow you to have your needs met in a healthy way vis-a-vis others. It will teach you so much about communication, the limitlessness of love, and the importance of time management. Don't be fearful of the fact that you have so much love to give and that you are able to give it to more than one person at a time. Read up, learn about, and dispel myths surrounding "The One" so that you don't accidentally buy-in to heteronormativity. Know that you will fall in of love with many people of various genders at different times of your life. You will go through periods of loss, grief, and loneliness, but you will always be surrounded by loving friends. Don't date boys just because it's an easy way to not be lonely or feel like the only teenager without a paramour to kiss during a free period at high school. 

Life isn't a competition. Don't measure yourself against anyone else's standards of "normal."  There is no such thing as normal. You will try and make your round self fit into square boxes and it will make you mad. Realize that your differences make you unique, fun, interesting, dynamic, and that it is OK that your desires fall outside opposite-sex relationships. You are the one living this life. No one else. Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life, especially when it comes to matters of your heart. You get to determine content as you are the author of your life's story. What do you want your story to say? That you gave into peer pressure and refused to live honestly? That fitting in was more important that fleshing-out your character development? That discovering yourself was too challenging a task to deal with? Realize your agency in situations - life isn't "happening" to you, you are making it happen.

Make your own rules, then live by them, with the knowledge that the rules will change over time. Nothing is static. Nothing evolves in isolation. Accept these things and you will realize how empowered you actually are as a person. Tap into yourself and discover your core values, shed any ideas that don't serve you right now, make space for allowing new ideas to come, be creative and make them personal, and revise any rules as they don't seem to fit the mold as you go along. While you need to continue abiding by your parents' rules at home, develop your own internal rules for dating and sex. Your personal rules matter. Learn how to enforce them. Sometimes this is learning how to say "no" in a circumstance that you would normally find challenging to stop. Sometimes this is discussing why you won't get involved in a particular project because it's unsafe or unsexy to you. Sometimes it's leaving a party that you don't feel comfortable at. Whatever way you move forward, always put your safety first.

Things will get better, I promise you, 16 year-old me. You will find a way to truly love and accept yourself as you are. You will create and maintain a network of queer friends and straight allies that will have your back no matter what. You will find love - in many forms and guises - and you will, in time, discern between NRE/infatuation feelings and real love. Your abilities to learn, grow, and adapt are your greatest skills and will serve you well over the years. I believe that you will make better choices than I did at your age. Although your life may not turn out the way you expect it to, know that you are always exactly where you are supposed to be in any given moment. Don't try to "check-out" of your reality so much. Breathe. Know that you are not alone. All that is required of you is to stay the course of getting to know the person you are supposed to become.

Love,
Yourself, aged 35 

I am 16, going on 17...

Hello Nurse!

I've known Yak for about a year. I met her last year when she was first getting together with one of my queer female friends. I was immediately drawn to her energy, her smile, and vivacity. Since she was just beginning a romantic relationship with one of my friends, I thought it was best to shelve any desires/designs I had for her and just focus on myself and my other two relationships.

Yak stayed in the background as my friend's girlfriend and I gradually got to know her over the course of the past year at group social events. Things started to smoulder between us around last New Years Eve (Dec 2015) when we were ringing in the new year together with her partners of 10 years (Yak was in a triad), her girlfriend, my partners, and other friends in my queer community circles. The Yak and I couldn't stop eye-fucking each other but didn't follow-through with anything physical. Then, early this past spring, her girlfriend, Yak, and I had a bit fun together one night. And then, months went by without chatting, physical connection, or seeing interest from Yak in pursuing anything else with me. Unbeknownst to me, Yak was going through some major life changes.

Just a few months ago, Yak broke-up with her partners of 10 years. Thus, she had a lot more time availability and inclination to date, and after cuddling with her and Bear in a pile of Muppet fur at the local Burning Man event this year, things started to organically evolve between us. We started seeing each other and cuddles turned into really hot sex. Her girlfriend was so happy for us (yay, compersion) as she had started dating someone else and had less time for the Yak. Things stayed like that for a bit, until Yak and her girlfriend decided to call it quits. So now, Yak has me all to herself...well, she has to share me with Bear and Birdfriend.

A simplistic visual of what our cuddle pile at BitF looked like - L to R, Yak, Bear, and me (the Fox)

Yak is coming home from a month-long journey in India this weekend. Right before she left, we were getting really gushy with each other. New Relationship Energy was running really high, and we are high on it. Having a month to be a part physically allowed things to cool (somewhat) and allowed us to spend time typing and chatting over the internet to know each other in a different, and deeper, capacity. Much to her, and my, surprise - we have been communicating almost daily since she's been gone. Yak has repeatedly mentioned that she's missed me while she's been traveling - something that has also surprised her. Something that makes me smile inside...

I won't lie - I've been pretty gaga over Yak since she came into my life. There's so much to like! She identifies as a dyke, is queer, poly, a nurse, and very happy when in nature. She's funny, kind, intelligent, and a real sweetheart. Plus totally hot! Hello nurse!

Yak compares her "horns" with that of a Hindu cow in India (Sept 2016).

Being amped up on NRE feelings can feel overwhelming. It feels like being swept up in a warm tide that pulls you along into a feeling of borderline drunkenness, and suddenly, you're out to sea. It's something that both Yak and I openly acknowledge. We talk about the happy bubbly feelings and enjoy them because we both know that NRE doesn't last. We've exchanged some loving sentiments, but neither of us are blind to what NRE does to one's brain chemistry (Another hit of oxytocin, please. Thank you, Nurse). Yak and I have this inside joke about keeping our relationship "healthy" because of how unhealthy NRE can be. Yak has admitted that its been a past habit to beat NRE into submission, but not this time. I'm striving for middle-ground with NRE. Here's a cartoon that explains what I mean:

NRE - finding balance is the key!

I've had separate talks with Bear and Birdfriend about my NRE with the Yak, and they are both aware and supportive. Sometimes Bear teases me about it, but it's all in good fun. Birdfriend is likely curious, as they haven't seen me in NRE since I started dating Bear. I know that they are both happy for me, and that they are also grateful for the chance to get to know Yak better too. I am bursting with gratitude that everyone in the menagerie gets along and that we can be honest about where we all stand with each other.

I don't know what the next chapter of my connection with Yak will look like. Honestly, I don't really care because I'm enjoying this relationship so much and don't have any plans for it because it's so new and tender like a seedling. I want to nurture it but not smother it. I want to let it flourish, but not at the expense of my other two relationships. I'm excited, but not impulsive or impractical about my feelings for her. I have hopes for an evolving connection that has ongoing potential, but I'm not putting limits or constraints on our relationship. I want it to unfurl naturally like a many-petaled flower, and to enjoy the process of opening.

I found this artwork on a Facebook page that I liked, will add citation later. But yah, the feels.

It's Complicated, but not really

A few years back, Facebook decided to add a new relationship status choice from its drop-down menu called It's Complicated. It was for folks in non-monogamous arrangements to let friends, family, and prospective partners know that they were, in fact, seeing someone (likely several someones). It was a break away from normative-monogamy in a big way - social media mimicking real life. While It's Complicated gives a conveniently nebulous description that could encompass many ideas of relationships, I don't think that polyamory is necessarily complicated. It's based on open, honest, communication; boundary setting; time management; understanding one's desires; and building/maintaining a community of relationships.

There are many misconceptions about polyamory. This meme summed it up pretty well for me:

Samantha from SATC says "I'm a 'try-sexual', I'll try anything once."
Ah scheduling. It really is an art, and probably the only way I can keep my days straight, and when I'm seeing whom etc. Add chronic pain appointments to the mix - I'm a busy gal.

Polyamory has become such a buzzword in recent years. It's all over media - news, tv, Netflix shows, books, internet articles, etc. People who engage in polyamory are often white, educated, fairly wealthy, and often, straight. But many many folks of the LGBTQ2 spectrum are also "poly" or even "relationship anarchists." Autostraddle conducted a sex/relationship survey of its readers back in 2015 and some rather interesting results have come out of the data, especially when looking at monogamous people in non-monogamous relationships and vice-versa.

Polyamory is a relatively new descriptor of my lifestyle. When I look back over my dating "career" of the past 20 years or so, I see a tendency for multiple love/sex interests at the same time. Perhaps in some ways I had always been poly, but it took a lot of other coming-out work before I adopted poly as an appropriate self-identifier. I used to have a lot of internalized shame around my poly feelings. I would feel like a horrible person because I felt attraction to, or felt feelings for several people (and often at the same time) while within a monogamous relationship. I would feel like I was emotionally or mentally cheating on my partner in my head, even if no outward actions had occurred.

After realizing that my sexual orientation and desires didn't align with heteronormative-monogamous society's script for women, I began to do some research into polyamory and whether or not it would work for me. I read the Ethical Slut first (which, although a bit dated, seems to be a common introduction to poly book), and then onwards to Opening Up which gave me lots of case samples to consider. I flagged and highlighted and wrote notes in the columns of these books. I read poly blogs, talked to poly friends, and constantly underwent internal reflection to gain understanding of how I wanted my poly to be. I keep learning about poly all the time - both from reading, and from actually living poly.

I started dating multiple people around 2012, and learned quickly that 2 to 3 people at once is my maximum in terms of time and energy allotments. I started dating the Bear and the Birdfriend within a few months of each other. Then I started dating another woman as well, but she didn't enjoy being part of a poly connection, so that didn't last. Then Birdfriend and I decided that dating wasn't working for us, and decided to shift focus to the D/s, chosen family, bff aspects of our relationship.

A little graphic I made to show the different connections I have (Oct 2016). The red lines indicate a romantic connection predominating, the burgundy line indicates a D/s connection predominating. Sex/gender is denoted for interest only. Animals were chosen as representatives by each partner. We are all friends and do things together (sometimes, this includes sex).

What does Bear being a primary partner mean to me? As my primary, he's the only partner that I'm planning on procreating with and marrying. He has priority for my time, but doesn't get to dictate how I spend my days, nor with whom. We talk, text, and type all day long to each other. We have some finances that are together, and will be combining more in the future. He's my first emergency contact in case something happens to me. Once we are common-law cohabitants, we will be on the same extended health care plan. He's the one I call when I cut myself, when I'm sad, or wide awake at 3am with insomnia that won't quit. Bear is what most people would just call their "spouse" but he'll always be my primary partner as I may have more than one partner at the time. (See how the Canadian legal definition could include more than one common-law partner).

At first, Bear was having a hard time adjusting to being with me and me being with other people (especially men). I try to be sensitive to my partner's needs, but I was feeling a double-standard that it was fine for me to be sexual with women but not other men. Since then, Bear is more accepting of the fact that I may have sex with other men from time to time, and understands that I'm only really interested in being romantically involved with one cis-man at the moment - him.

Unicorn hunters beware! You are exerting a trifecta of privilege!

I try to be aware of Couple Privilege with Bear when it comes to my other partners. Veto Power has always been an uncomfortable point for me - I don't like any of my partners to feel as though their feelings don't matter. That said, Bear is my primary partner, and his feelings and needs are of paramount importance for my consideration. I can't just run off and do whatever I please, whenever (another misconception around polyamory). No, I need to ask about how he's feeling about a particular issue/event that I'm attending with someone else/behaviour that he observed and negotiate a way forward with him.

In my last blog post, I talked about my D/s connection with Birdfriend. This relationship is as important to me as the one I have with Bear, but it is very different. The expectations are different. The logistics of our lives are not as enmeshed and we have a different understanding of what is permissible in/out of our relationship. Birdfriend can date, have sex with, and engage in other D/s activities with anyone outside of our connection. I don't have any control over their romantic life. Where I do have control, is within the D/s context - there are certain activities that I prefer Birdfriend not to experience with others. We talk it all out, of course, because that's how poly works.

Birdfriend and I have have some plans for our future - a trip to New Zealand in January, a joint desire to support/raise kids together in some fashion, a desire to live close to/on the same property. These plans are just as important to me as my plans to get married and have children with Bear. They are not exclusive plans of each other - another way that poly is so very different from monogamy. My plans with Birdfriend must be considered in conjunction with my plans with Bear. And vice-versa.

A new player has recently come onto my romantic scene...well, a new lover. We'll call her Yak. We've been seeing each other for almost three months and we are definitely riding high on New Relationship Energy. I'm bouncing between these bubbly emotions with this new wonderful lover, keeping my loving connection with Bear evolving and wedding planning moving forward, and making time for Birdfriend adventures. Yak is awesome. She's exactly the kind of female queer lover that I have been looking for ever since I broke up with the last woman I fell in love with 5 years ago. Things are very new, so things are very happy, giddy, expansive, and fun fun fun! She's been in India for the past month, and she gets back this weekend, so I'll save a post about her for next week.

For the first time in many years, I feel emotionally, and sexually fulfilled. I have so many of my needs met that I feel as though my cup runneth-over. And I am SO grateful! I share and show my appreciation for my partners in words, deeds, and touch. I appreciate that my partners gave me permission to write about them, and that they support and encourage my writing. I am truly blessed with these three!!

And because I love infographics so much, I'll end this post with an incredibly complex infographic of the many forms of non-monogamy. You can find a larger version of it here.

A little hard, a little sweet

For many years, I've categorized myself as a "Hard Femme."  Femme in itself is a queer identity, although one (like other labels) has inconsistent meaning attached to it. Urban Dictionary defines a hard femme as:

Not to be mistaken with the typical femme, the "hard femme" describes herself as "queer", is political, looks more feminine than masculine, and if prompted, can kick some serious ass. She doesn't need to "wear the pants" in a relationship- the hard femme rules with a dress. She not only despises the gender binary, she works to dismantle it.

This "hardness" to me is something that also translates into my relationships, namely connections forged through BDSM practices. I've identified as a Domme for many years, and in the past few years have identified more as a Hedonist. Both labels feel accurate, and are not mutually-exclusive. Most people on the BDSM spectrum tend to identify either Dominant or submissive, with some folk in the middle identifying as switches.

It's interesting to note that I am one of the 8% of women who's preference (and this is the key word here) is for Dominant roles. I feel more comfortable, confident, and present in this role. I feel that I am able to wield power - both physically and mentally/emotionally. For anyone who has seen me in a scene, you will know what I'm talking about. I find Domming to be very empowering, fun, sexy, and fulfilling. I get to make people's desires/fantasies happen. And that is a very intensely rewarding thing!

BDSM is still a very misunderstood lifestyle/sexual paradigm for most people. It's contradictory in that it seems mostly localized to Western culture, and yet, its highly stigmatized by that culture. Many people liken BDSM to physical abuse. There is a wide gulf between the two however, and this infographic demonstrates this well:

A former friend of mine once "accused" me of being Dominant as a "way to get back at the men who sexually abused me in the past." This is, unfortunately, a very common preconception that men have of Dominant women (or women who engage in BDSM at all). In fact, BDSM provides a container for abuse survivors to safely explore and heal from past assaults. In fact, a 2013 study showed that people who engage in BDSM practices are mentally healthier and more well-adjusted than people who didn't "play."

In the past, most of my play partners were cis-male and the connections lasted from 1 time to many months. I really enjoyed playing with men, especially in the Dominant position. Nothing like crushing a man under a pair of spiked heels. Now, my main play partner is genderqueer, poly; and we've been engaged in D/s on some level for the past 4 years. I consider this person to be a non-primary partner, friend, part of my chosen family, and confidante. For the purposes of this blog, I'll call them Birdfriend. 

Birdfriend and I have engaged in many types of D/s play over the years. Our play can be verbal, physical, devotional, or some combination of all three elements. Our connection is complex, nuanced, challenging, dynamic, fun, transformative, supportive, and empathetic. Above all, we are there for each other. This becomes heightened in play space, where my main task as Domme is to care for the needs of my sub - before, during, and after the scene. However, because I live with chronic pain, and because certain D/s activities cause me to incur pain, my Birdfriend must also take care of me as well - especially after the scene ends. Massage, sauna, and sometimes medication and water are needed to help me deal with any post-scene physical discomfort, and to avoid the pitfalls of Domdrop.

My relationship to pain is incredibly complex. I live with chronic pain (due to car accidents) on some level on a daily basis, and it flares up with rapid barometric changes, wrong types of activities (too much flogging!) incessant computer work, holding anything above my head for any length of time....you get the idea. I acknowledge that I have some residual sexual assault trauma in my head, but I feel that it's minimal. And, I also enjoy certain painful sensations - the feeling of burning hot wax poured on my skin, being bitten hard on my neck, nails scratched down my back, hair pulled, etc. When playing in a D/s context, I walk a fine line between flying high and hurting like hell.

Because chronic pain keeps me from playing heavily when it flares up, I try to incorporate little snippets of D/s into my communications and time together with the Birdfriend. I use power exchange more, and try to give my arms/hands (and sometimes feet) a break from wielding a whip or a paddle. My words can become a whip, my voice can become as hard as a paddle. I try to also be more spontaneous and authentic in my play connections and avoid scripting out a scene too much. Allowing for improvisation has really helped me cope with having chronic pain while trying to emit my Big Bad Domme vibe. Here's a link to a really great VICE article that goes deeper into what its like to play and live with disability.

I also engage in some D/s play with my primary partner, whom I shall refer to as Bear. In our relationship, we switch roles, but the tendency has been for me to be more submissive than dominant with him. Bear is the first cis-man who I have been comfortable submitting to (with a lot of resistance and bratty behaviour for good measure) in my adult life. He is patient, caring, and a great Daddy. I enjoy when he submits, because I get such a thrill from dominating a man so much bigger than me. D/s isn't as much as a focal point in our relationship the way it is with my Birdfriend. But that makes sense considering that I can do things with Birdfriend that I cannot do with Bear because he's not interested. That, is the beauty of poly right there.

I'll write more about poly in my next post....

Once upon a relationship

Once upon a time, I believed in the cis-heteronormative dream of finding "the one," getting married, and having babies - hook, line, and sinker. I wasn't sure how my bisexuality was supposed to fit into that fairytale...but I figured that if someone loved me for who I was, it would all just magically work itself out over time. Ha.

This graphic came up when I did a GIS for "true love." Its shows the societally-approved  heteronormative "escalator" relationship path.

When I was 22, I met a fellow in Quebec who I fell in love with and was convinced was "the one." We started a long distance relationship, and within the year, we decided that he should move out west to be with me (he was tired of life in Quebec anyways). We planned a road trip all the way back across Canada, with the agreement that I would drive only on the prairies because I still wasn't comfortable driving a stick shift (still ain't). Somewhere around the Manitoba-Saskatchewan border, I mentioned to my Quebecois love that I was bisexual, and that I wasn't willing to cut out women in the future.

Perhaps I should have mentioned my orientation sooner to my former paramour. However, I was young, and had little experience with when/how to come out to people as I was still pretty uncomfortable with my sexuality. He reacted badly. I almost thought he was going to ask me to pull over, but I was driving and I just kept on driving. I decided to be more forthcoming and shared a bit of how I've had some experiences with BDSM and threesomes/group sex and he shut down. It was as if I had taken all joy out of him - and it was because I hadn't done those things with him. I told him that I was open to engaging in different kinds of intimate play but he just told me that "it was too late" (a refrain that I would hear again and again over the course of our relationship).

I should have jumped ship right then and there and parachuted out of that little red Honda Civic traversing the Canadian prairies but I didn't. I stayed in that relationship for 4.5 years. I sometimes can't believe it myself. I stayed because I believed so intently in the idea of "The One." The belief warped my sense of what I was willing to put up with in order to have stability and love.

My relationship with this Quebecois looked great from the outside. We looked well together, played house well together, had decent jobs, went on vacations together. On the inside, we both were miserable. He was convinced that I was going to leave him for a woman and often used it as a point of argument when he was angry with me. Nevermind that I never did any such cheating behaviour. A similar thing had happened to a cousin of his, and it was clear that he was feeling biphobic and some kind of gender betrayal. How could I, his woman, possibly be interested in being with other women when my place was with him. Ugh.

Our relationship ended for many different reasons. Towards the end, when I told him that I was tired of repressing my desire to be with women, he relented and I went on a date with a woman for the first time in my life. I was 27 years old. The date was a bust but I learned that I couldn't pretend that I wasn't bi anymore. I was tired of keeping myself in the closet and I was miserable with the Quebecer. We parted ways and I spent the next year solely dating women and learning about what I wanted from relationships.

It seems odd that I've come full-circle in that I'm now engaged to be married and considering future child-rearing. However, this primary relationship is vastly different from the one I was in so long ago. My primary partner loves me for who I am - exactly as I am. Something I am eternally grateful for. It helped that I was fully upfront about who I was when we first got together almost five years ago.

The very first thing I said to him after he proposed (and I accepted) was, "you know that I can't do monogamy, right?" and he said, "I don't think monogamy would work for us."  I love this man.

I still think that "true" love exists, only I think of it like this:

Love is not a finite resource. The more love you have to share, the more love is there in the world.

Bye bye Bi, Hello Queer?

As a term, bisexual has some inherent problems. Bi, meaning two, sexual, as in who you are attracted to. But there are more than two genders (and I would argue more than two sexes as well - re: intersex folks).

All throughout my teen years and my twenties, I considered myself BIsexual. I was interested in dating both men and women. However, after my LTR with potential husband #1 failed and I started exclusively dating women, I began to have more exposure to folks across the gender spectrum and I had a hard look at my own label. If honest, I've always been attracted to gender-fluid/non-conforming folks for a long time. I didn't act on it until I had access to these types of folks to date (no surprise there).

I got schooled in gender by hanging out with folks who identify as trans*, genderqueer, genderfluid, and non-binary. These folks taught me so much about how gender is a social construct, and how privilege exists depending on where you stand on the continuum and if you "pass." Thus, armed with the knowledge of peoples of other genders, and with better awareness of my own desires, did my sexual orientation label change from Bi to Queer.

I still use the term bisexual as an identity label however. I do this because many hetero folks have not had exposure to gender variant folks, and I'm often met with a quizzical look with I share my queer orientation. Queer is not an understood term for most heterosexual people. They simply have no point of reference for what a queer orientation means or looks like. So I then use the term bisexual, and the response is usually something like, "ah, ok." For people that are genuinely curious and respectfully ask about my sexuality, I will explain to them what queer means to me - namely that I find people across the gender spectrum attractive (masculine → androgynous → feminine), and that I have sexual and/or romantic relationships with folks across this spectrum. Further, queer means that I see my sexuality and gender expression through a politically aware/critical lens - I'm aware of my privilege (where it exists) and I try to eradicate oppression of queer folk and other minority groups with my awareness and voice.

I've been asked by people over time whether or not I identify as pansexual. The term "pansexual" wasn't one that I was familiar with, and at the time, most of the folks that I was meeting referred to themselves as queer. Further, queer has a different feel to it than pansexual because it assumes an added layer of politicizing that doesn't usually come with it or other LGBT labels. I think that Quinn of Quinn Creates on youtube nails it:

I think it's also important to note that the term queer will mean different things to different people. Its likely that the word and its usage will change over time - considering it has already changed once from a derogatory remark to a reclaimed word of power. When I meet older LGBT people, they often will react badly to this word, and I have to explain to them how I use it here and now.

I've also been lately considering how bisexuality and queerness can coexist in the same human. Both labels are functional, but I still feel drawn towards calling myself queer. I suppose I could just quit splitting hairs already and just say that I'm:

Biphobia and Violence

For the past week, I've been going back and forth in my head about how to bring up the topic of biphobia and associated violence. Talking, writing, or reading about violence can be triggering - for everyone involved. So, with a trigger warning firmly mentioned, I'm going to dive into this topic.

This 2010 study shows that overall "bisexual women had significantly higher lifetime prevalence of rape and sexual violence other than rape by any perpetrator when compared to both lesbian and heterosexual women." Its important to note that the reported violence was only perpetrated by men (whether strangers or within intimate relationships). I find it interesting that its men perpetrating this violence.

Why are bisexuals being attacked? The media storm that was the divorce announcement of Amber Hear from Johnny Depp, provides a case study. Its clear from the court details that Johnny was physically and emotionally abusing Amber. Why he was abusing her is unclear. What was disturbing, however, was how the media was using Heard's sexual orientation as justification for her abuse! In a well-articulated Globe & Mail article, Cheryl Dobinson (a researcher LGBTQ health at Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health) states:

 “Being bisexual gets read as, ‘You’re up for anything, all the time.’ Women talk about having their consent assumed," said Dobinson. Young bi women have told her they often feel sexualized and “disposable” around male partners. “A person saying they’re bisexual doesn’t mean they consent to any and all sexual activity,” she said. “Even if a person is hypersexual, it doesn’t mean they consent this way.”

I found this chart that may be helpful for folks to understand how violence can be directed at bisexuals:

In my very first blog post, I mention how a lack of family acceptance/support for my diverse sexual interests led me to make some really unhealthy and unsafe choices as a teenager. What do I mean by that? Well, because I didn't feel accepted for who I was, I had to go outside my family to find that acceptance. Finding acceptance as a queer kid in middle school in the mid-1990's was damn near impossible. I mentioned my sexual questioning status to a few friends, and some of them felt the same way, but we didn't have any resources back then to support us the way LGBTQ2 kids have now. There weren't support groups at school, or programs run by the school counsellor, or posters or anything. How do you find acceptance for who you are when there don't appear to be any forums for you to find it?

Having no bi role models to look to, no family support, or any idea of how to develop my fledgling sexuality, I went back to what I knew - the closet and boys. I grew up knowing that I liked boys - liking boys was a part of my heteronormative upbringing, it was a part of my cultural dialogue. Since exploring my interest in girls seemed to be off the table after the dismal coming-out to my family, I dove into the world of straight "dating." I started to act out and tried alcohol (age 15 - last day of school) and drugs (age 16) to try and be accepted by my school friends. I engaged in risky sexual behaviours from the age of 16 onwards with men and I started to feel that sex meant acceptance (danger, Will Robinson!) I didn't have a strong sense of self-love nor good boundaries. I was first sexually assaulted at the age of 15. Then raped at my 19th birthday party. Then raped again at a frat party at age 21. The first two incidents happened with coworkers, the last one was a stranger. In all three cases, alcohol was a factor.

It could be easy for me to point the finger at my family and say, "you failed me!" But that doesn't take into account that in fact, society failed me. I am a statistic, a survivor, and I feel angry about the prevalence of violence towards women in our society. I am sad that my teenage self didn't have the tools, awareness, boundaries, or support in place to prevent the sexual violence that I have been exposed to.

After years of counselling to combat the affects of PTSD, fear of intimate relationships, trust issues, and internalized biphobia etc., I finally feel able to talk about the sexual violence in my past without feeling too triggered anymore. It still hurts, but I can compartmentalize my ideas from my feelings. Sometimes, something one of my partners says or does can trigger me about a past abuse, but I am able to communicate my needs in the moment and overcome any residual feelings of powerlessness.

Remember folks, that consent is king, and that no one has the right to do anything to your body that is hurtful or shaming. Peace and love to all my readers.

Addendum on Visibility

Something to think about - bisexuals (in the broad meaning of the word) make up more than 50% of the LGBTQ2 rainbow. And yet, there is little in the way of research, support, media portrayals (although this is changing), out role models (again, thankfully changing), or awareness.

I think awareness is the key. Bisexuals have been referred to as the hidden majority in the sexual spectrum. We are the majority, and yet, where are we?

From reading the Invisible Majority: The Disparities Facing Bisexual People and How to Remedy Them study (Sept 2016), bisexual people are very diverse, and this diversity means that bisexual data gets lost in LGBT studies because of the nature of the questionnaires/surveys. That is, bisexuals often get lumped into other LGBT data groups because until very recently, no one has done an exclusive survey on the bisexual population and any relevant points are entangled with other populations (gays and lesbians). That makes it very difficult for health and policy makers to develop targeted programs to meet specific needs of bisexual people.

You can see how trying to separate out data for bisexuals could be kind of difficult...

The other reason why bisexuals remain invisible is due to violence. Bisexuals don't often come out due to fear of reprisal or attacks against their person or livelihood. After reading the above, and other reports, its clear that there is a societal bias towards bisexuals from everyone else (heterosexuals, gays, and lesbians). Why is this? Why would the other 48% of the rainbow flag folks and the straight community (approx 90% of the general population) have this bias?

I believe that it is because the human brain loves to categorize things into neat little boxes. (My Bachelor of Arts is in Psychology, so I know a fair bit about how cognition works.) Especially in our 21st Century world, our over-worked, under-fed/rested brains are barraged daily with information, requests, to-do lists, and planning etc. In all this chaos, the brain creates order by prioritizing and categorizing all this input. Naturally, bisexuals don't fall into the "either/or" categories that our brains like to classify things into. Perhaps it's challenging to one's norms and way of thinking to try and imagine a person for whom the entire spectrum of human sexual expression is a potential area for exploration and desire. But it is possible. I know, because its my reality. I feel the same way as Amy Leibowitz Mitchell when she said:

"And yet, there’s something unique about existing in those spaces between. Sometimes, I think being bisexual is like those optical illusions where you see an old woman or a young woman, faces or vases, a duck or a bunny. People perceive in me what they want to see..."

Because our brains like clear-cut ideas and because sometimes, ideas/beliefs/ways of being don't fall into these nice, neat boxes - we react.  How we react is based on our experience, cultural and social norms, personal temperament, and any inherited traits from our parents. Thus, if we have been taught that a certain idea or lifestyle is wrong, immoral, or wishy-washy, our reactions are usually negative and involve making judgements on limited information. Where violence comes into play is when those judgments make someone act out against another and feel that the violence is justified. Since bisexuality hasn't really been at the forefront of the LGBTQ2 movement (something I'm going to touch on in a later post), mainstream exposure to bisexual themes, literature, media, etc has been limited for the majority of the population at large. This lack of exposure breeds a lack of awareness about bisexual people and their needs, which then can lead to negative consequences for bisexual folks.

Bisexuals experience negative reactions from people when they are open about who they are and how they live their lives. Unfortunately, these negative reactions occur in all areas of one's life - at home with parents, siblings, or a spouse; at work with colleagues or boss; on the street/transit; on the internet; and other people in your circle who hold viewpoints that don't include a bisexual reality.

A real tweet found when I did a "Bi shaming" GIS - this makes me sad. How can a person simply existing as who they are be "gross?" And yet, this type of attitude towards bisexuals is common and prevalent.

In my own experience,  I have received negative reactions mostly from family, the odd coworker, and many "random" people. The majority of my friends know that I'm out, and support me in my life choices. I get asked questions from my friends about some of my bisexual tendencies, but it's usually coming from a place of wanting to understand me better.

What do I mean by "negative reactions?" I mean that I have been objectified by people (often men) that I have just met; that I've been brushed aside by many lesbians who refused to date/sleep with me just because I happen to like all varieties of human; by folks projecting sex-negative labels and slut-shaming words onto me; by family members who think I'm going to hell; by family members who don't understand how I could be getting married considering my "lifestyle" and desires outside of monogamy; by random people on the street catcalling me when I'm holding hands with my female partner, and then confused looks if they see me holding hands with my male partner a day or two later - just to give you a few ideas.

This bias against bisexuals has had another impact, and I would argue that it has the potential to be even more harmful - internalized biphobia. Internalized biphobia is like waging a no-win battle in your head until you feel as though your brain is going to permanently check-out of your skull. Self-acceptance is a key part of coming to terms with one's sexuality, especially if it falls outside of the heteronormative dialogue of today's western culture.

It is my sincere hope that by sharing my (and media) stories, that I can raise more awareness about issues that impact bisexuals, and to give hope to folks who are struggling with their identity and how they move through such a biased world.