Bisexuality doesn’t scare me anymore
I learned that from ‘the girl that got away.’
In random conversations with my lesbian friends, there’s a topic that’s sort of taboo: Bisexuality. When someone mentions a girl they’re interested in but says they’re bisexual, everyone automatically starts saying, ‘No no no no, get out of that. No one has time for a girl who can’t make up her mind.’
I used to be one of them. A horrible relationship with a woman left me jaded after she repeatedly cheated on me with men. To say it was scarring, is an understatement. After all of that occurred, I swore off bisexual women; thinking that all of them were as selfish as she was in going from one sex to another without giving a damn.
Cue to May 2012. I walk into a gay bar in Williamsburg on ‘Girl’s Night’ and wander over to the dance floor. I’m a few drinks in and getting into the dance music pumping through the speakers with a friend. I look up and see her. This cute girl that was exactly my type with this coy smile. Seeing her smile instantly put a smile on my face (and I might have just smiled at my computer just thinking about it). No words were exchanged. All it took was one look before we started dancing to the beat together. I could have danced with her all night to be honest but alas, it was approaching 1am so I asked her for her number and swore I’d take her out sometime.
Cut to a few days later, I’d asked her out for coffee at one of my favorite shops near Gramercy. I was so stupidly excited I even wore a dress. Yes, you read that right and anyone who knows me KNOWS that I don’t do dresses. But there was something about this girl that had me giggling like a little kid. She was beautiful, smart, and so optimistic about the world.
On our third date, I decided to take her to ‘my spot.’ At the time, I was still hesitating about whether or not I wanted something more from her rather than just focusing on having a good time with her that night. She looked adorable as always and that smile lit up the whole restaurant. The conversation flowed and the frozen margaritas kept coming. I remember David, the owner of the restaurant, came up to me while she was in the restroom and said ‘I don’t know who this girl is, but she’s a keeper. Hold on to her.’ She came back and topics shifted when all of a sudden I heard her mention something about an ex-boyfriend. ‘Wait, what did you just say?’ I asked. ‘My ex-boyfriend…I’m bisexual, I hadn’t told you that?’ she replied. And just like that, my view of her shattered. I put on a brave face on the outside to get through the rest of the date but inwardly I was panicking, wanting to run out of that restaurant and resigning myself to the fact that this was over when it had barely even begun.
I picked up the check and walked her to the subway station, throwing my coat over both of us since it was raining. She was chattering away and all I could think about was our goodbye. I gave her a hug and a goodbye kiss and watched her walk down the stairs until she was out of sight.
I made a choice. An idiotic one. But I made it. I became that asshole who didn’t return text messages or phone calls. All because I was afraid. I became the person I swore I never would be, when all I wanted was her.
Three months later, I went to a work event with a friend. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw her. It felt like a dream; that of all places in New York City, she would be standing here in front of me. But her face immediately changed to one of anger, hurt and maybe a little hatred. I quickly downed a drink to settle my nerves, not knowing what craziness I was about to step into but all I could feel was shame. Shame for not being a better person to this amazing girl.
She came up to me first, caught me off guard while I was helping my friend map out her work plan. The first thing she said was, ‘Hey, long time no see,’ but in a way that had passive aggressiveness dripping all over it. I quickly stuttered that I need to help my friend with work but that we’d get our chance to talk when the event was over.
Another drink later and I finally had my nerve to talk to her. I interrupted a conversation she was having with her friends, looked at her and said, ‘I need to tell you something.’ I put my hands on her knees and leaned in so she could hear me and said,
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For being that asshole who didn’t call and text you back. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you deserve. I panicked and I can’t take it back but I do need you to know that you deserve better than what I gave you.’
To this day, it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever said to any girl in my life. And it’s the most honest I’ve ever been. Did I expect a reprieve? Of course not. She deserved more; she deserved someone strong, who was willing to fight for her, who was willing to go above and beyond for her. And back then, I couldn’t give it to her. I wasn’t ready.
For her and I, it might have been too late. But it took this happening for me to realize that people are people. I was being a hypocrite saying that ‘Love is Love,’ while discriminating against bisexuals. Now, I can definitely say that labels can go fuck themselves. As long as someone is interested in me for me, I don’t really care.
Nowadays, when girls tell me that they’re bisexual, I just calmly look them in the eye and say, ‘Okay.’ ‘Okay?’ they respond, ‘Does it bother you?’ ‘Nope,’ I reply, ‘As long as you’re real with me, I really could give no fucks. So let’s go dance.’
