{9} Here, queer, and sad as hell

The fallout from the Orlando shooting at the Pulse, which was an LGBT+ nightclub, has been all over the place, as has been the speculations about motive (the shooter was an Islamic terrorist…or an American homophobe…or a closeted gay man…or mentally unstable…or all of the above…or…).

All of that is still being parsed, in the midst of of our overwhelming grief. And I say “all of our” not simply because the deaths of 49 people is horrific in general, but because I am and always have been a member of the Queer Club.

But I think maybe a lot of people don’t know that? Or forget about it. Because, honestly, I forget about it. I was practically raised in lesbian-owned feminist bookstores, which were the flip (sober) side of gay clubs in the 1970s, and my mother was very open (with me, at least) about being bisexual. My father didn’t seem to care. I honestly did not know homophobia was a “thing” until the AIDS crisis hit, that’s how sheltered I was.

During that innocence of youth, I grew up bisexual. I played “doctor” with both my girlfriends and boyfriends in the neighborhood. I was a randy adolescent, which is kind of embarrassing in retrospect but there you go. For a few years my parents would send me off to summer camp, where I invariably and predictably fell in love with a fellow camper or two, without much concern for their gender. I was a weirdo for so many reasons, my equal-opportunity crushes never even registered with people (omg I was such a weirdo, I was a walking catastrophe, but my bisexuality was absolutely the least weird thing on a very long list).

I grew up loved and protected, and emerged into the world as an adult 100% at peace with my bisexual identity and 100% not prepared or even able to conceptualize homophobia.

I’ve learned a lot of hard lessons since.

I’ve changed a lot too; I’m more attracted to men the older I get, and I’m definitely crossing into demi-sexual and demi-romantic territory as well. I now even have words to describe myself, such as cisgendered and fierce femme. But yes, bisexual is still there, and always will be.

I’m writing this because I think that my identity has, for lack of a better term, fallen by the wayside insofar that most people I know today might, actually, not know I’m bisexual. I take it for granted so much that I just assume people know…when it’s very probable that they have no idea.

This came to mind as I read Elle Dowd’s great post here, “Biphobia and the Pulse Massacre” which resonated with me for many reasons. I think not only does bisexuality get erased by both mainstream straight culture but by the queer community itself, and in the end, for me anyway, it’s easy (being a single woman who doesn’t date) to just not go out of my way to identify publicly as a bisexual. Who needs the grief, amirite????

But it’s who I am, and I’ve been a part of the queer community since I was a child. I could easily have been out that night at Pulse, not as a straight ally but as a queer woman. Gay clubs have always been a part of my world, my identity, my social life. This attack was made against my people, and I do not want anyone to be able to push that fact aside.

I’m not saying this to improve my street cred (I never had street cred, never will) but to explain why I take this whole tragedy so personally. Some things hit close to home, I just never thought those things would be bullets.