Let’s talk about sex(ual orientation), baby
I wrote this when I was 21, and 5 years later with a couple of minor edits, it’s still pertinent. I’m reposting this here in response to The Nashville Statement, specifically Article 10. I’m not quoting it and I’m not linking to it because I don’t want to be responsible for their hate getting more traffic. Go read a news article, but the crux of the matter is that they are denying any type of sexuality or identity other than traditional heterosexuality is Godly.
Those of you who believe this condemnation is loving can go to hell, and I mean that genuinely and in the vein of CS Lewis’s brand of Universalism. If Heaven is connection and Hell is disconnection, enjoy your disconnection at the outskirts of existence where you won’t bother those who know in their souls there is no such thing as unholy love.
This post to be read whilst listening to acapella covers of songs about sex.
I never bothered having a formal coming out — I never felt I needed to. I’ve never been teased about it, never had to transfer schools, and haven’t really ever had any rights denied because I’ve yet to try to marry a girl, so I never saw the point. So not only did I not feel I needed to, I still kinda feel like I don’t deserve having some sort of big dramatic reveal. When I told my mom, I told her because I had a crush on a girl for the first time in four years, and it happened to be a girl that was trying to sleep with a guy I’d courted briefly. Her reaction was, “Huh, never thought about any of my kids being gay. Anyway, Cydney, if she’s interested in him and not you…” and the conversation continued. Since then she’s mentioned it in passing to friends and family members when the subject’s come up and that’s about as far as it’s gone. My father knows and I suspect he thinks “it’s just a phase” and the result of my liberal politics, but my father is my father, so I let him tell himself whatever stories he needs.
The thing is, though, I’m not gay, lesbian, or bi. I identified as pansexual, for a long time which is still a label I’m not crazy about, so these days I just call myself Queer. It works because not only am I queer in sexuality, I’m also a strange human being. So with this label, I get to own all the bits of me, rather than try to explain myself. That said, let me explain.
When I think of myself, as a sexual being, I think of myself as a normal young lady who is attracted to pretty people regardless of which gender they identify as. I have been attracted to men, women, transmen, transwomen, and occasionally established couples. But now that I’ve begun being vocal about the fact that I’m queer, I keep getting a handful of the same questions. Here, for your educational reading today, are the questions and answers I keep getting.
So you’re basically bi?
Did I fucking stutter? Queer doesn’t even SOUND like bisexual. No, I’m not bi. Bisexuality has that prefix — bi — for a reason. For bisexual people, gender is still pretty binary. There are men, and there are women, and they like ’em both. When I say queer, I mean gender doesn’t concern me. Like, at all. I don’t care if the drapes match the curtains, which is less about the color of your hair in this circumstance and more about if your gender and sex match. Spoiler alert — I do not care.
So you just want to sleep with anything that moves, is what you’re saying?
No. Ew. Super ew. Mega super ew. Also, be less offensive, hypothetical internet interviewer. Springing off that first point, that my sexuality is not about gender, my sexuality to me is also not about transactional sex. As with many humans, I am attracted to personality before anything else. Unlike many humans, I am attracted to personality regardless of the package it comes in.
So you’re only attracted to personality, you don’t even care what they look like?
Also not true, but good job being less offensive. I will be the first to admit I’m about as shallow as a shower when it comes to looks. I like attractive people. I like well groomed, attractive people. My last two boyfriends had six packs. The first girl I ever had a thing with is smoking hot — even my gay best friend was like “daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn” when he saw her picture. But it’s still just frosting on what needs to be a very interesting cake. I could joke and say the reason I’m queer is because I’m so damn picky about who I’m attracted to, I can’t afford to limit my targeted demographics.
I still don’t get it. That sounds like bi to me.
Oh boy… okay. Lemme break it down for you. I like attractive men. I like attractive women. I like attractive men who were born as women. I like attractive women who were born as men. I like attractive couples. I like attractive people, and when I say I like them, I don’t mean “I like to sleep with them.” Because my sexuality is not exclusively about sex. My sexuality is about who I feel intense romantic connections to, which is so much nicer, don’t you think? I like people. I like talking to them, I like figuring them out, I like feeling special when they like me, too. And eventually I love people, and the beautiful little quirks that make them lovable, and I want to solve their problems and bake them cookies and have Firefly marathons on rainy Sundays. Everything that comes with that, relationships and sex, is secondary to the fact that they are A) human and B) wonderful and precious to me.
Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.
Good, glad we’re on the same page here.
Originally published at scrappythebear.blogspot.com on August 30, 2017.