towardsagentlerworld:
(Thoughts in response this post, and Ozy’s recent post on bihacking.)
“Dating” and “crushes” are socially-defined enough that I’m not even sure I was bisexual in high school.
Mayleaf-in-high-school would’ve had to do a nontrivial amount of mental restructuring to interpret her feelings for various girls as “attraction”. I would’ve felt weird dating a girl then. It wouldn’t have felt like “real dating”.
And then in college, I did that mental restructuring, and started to get crushes on girls frequently.
I guess “romantic attraction” is not just a set of feelings, but a set of stories you tell yourself about those feelings. (At least, that’s how it seems to work for me.) In high school, the Most Important Person In The World to me was my female best friend, and I used to frequently think about how much I loved her and how close I felt towards her – but I interpreted all of that as a natural part of us being Best Friends. When she told me that she was bi, and confessed romantic interest in me, I felt sad that I couldn’t reciprocate that.
But the only behavioral difference between my relationship with her and my relationship with my high school boyfriend was that Best Friend and I did not kiss on the lips. We spent lots of alone time together, shared our innermost thoughts and feelings with each other, held hands, cuddled all the time, kissed each other on the cheek – and I loved doing all of that with her. And had she asked to kiss me on the lips, I would have probably said yes and I would’ve enjoyed it.
But I’d have still thought of it as being “platonic”, and an expression our closeness as Best Friends. It would’ve felt weird to call it dating. I knew what romantic interest felt like – it felt like those crush-feelings I got for various male friends of mine – and it didn’t feel like what I felt for her. I would’ve kissed her and it wouldn’t have felt the same as kissing my boyfriend.
In college I began to “““question my sexuality””” – but all that really meant was that I tried telling myself different stories about the affection and admiration I felt for various girls. Instead of saying, “wow, that girl is so kind and charismatic and intelligent, I keep thinking about how awesome she is because I see her as a role model”, I would say, “wow, that girl is so kind and charismatic and intelligent, I keep thinking about how awesome she is because I see her as a role model and because I’m attracted to her.” And instead of just daydreaming about being like her, I’d also daydream about kissing her, and imagine myself in various silly romantic scenarios with her.
And once I started doing that, I started feeling the exact sort of feelings for girls that I’d felt for guys in the past. And now I identify as a Kinsey 3, and I have two wonderful girlfriends, and I’m very happy with all of this.
(Also, I’m low-key long-distance dating my high school best friend. I saw her in December and we went out for dinner together and kissed a lot and it was wonderful.)
I’m not sure whether to call this “bihacking”, or just “discovering my true romantic orientation”. But I did have to change something about my mindset before I could experience romantic attraction to girls.
(tagging @ozymandias271 for bihacking datapoint)
sorry, rambling ahead! I’m tired and this got away from me
Yes, yes, yes. Especially “romantic attraction is a set of stories you tell yourself about your feelings”. The internal narrative I construct about my feelings for various women has definitely changed dramatically in the past couple of years, partly because tumblr exposed me to more lesbians and bisexual women than I’d met IRL, with their own narratives. And I think that has changed my feelings about certain women, too – there’s a feedback loop between the stories I tell myself and the feelings I have, for me at least. To me, it doesn’t really sound true to say I realized I am bisexual; I think it’s closer to the truth to say that I have started reframing existing feelings of admiration, longing, and desire in terms of bisexuality, and that altered and (maybe) intensified the feelings. Is romantic/sexual bisexuality the best frame for those feelings? I’m still working that out.
I feel like the born-this-way narrative, even if you don’t subscribe to it, sneaks its way into everyone’s thinking – we all like to believe that however we feel now is how we’ve always felt “deep down”, that we were just denying it before, and by extension that the narratives we constructed in the past to explain our feelings are less legitimate than the current narratives. That’s on a personal level, but also on a societal level – for example we like to think that historically, gay people in deeply loving platonic relationships were lying to themselves and hiding from a hostile world. That was absolutely true for a lot of people, of course. But I bet there were also a lot of people we would term gay or bisexual today for whom the narrative of intensely loving platonic friendship actually fit their feelings well at the time, and felt right to them.
Another way of saying this, I guess, is that we both internalized heteronormativity – the fact that we didn’t attribute our feelings to same-sex romantic attraction is at least partly down to what we had been taught to expect from a relationship. But “internalized heteronormativity” sounds like something wrong or bad that needs to be corrected… I like the way this post talks instead about the story you tell yourself. It implies that it’s morally neutral for the story to change over time, that you’re not “fixing” or “breaking” yourself when you change it.
(I don’t want to go so far as to say heteronormativity is a morally neutral thing; it’s not. But I would go so far as to say that, for example, ex-gay people aren’t all deluded or lying to themselves; some of them are genuinely describing the world as they experience it after the story they told themselves about their feelings changed. And if that line of thinking causes us to listen to them more and dismiss them less, it only serves to increase the diversity of perspectives and to encourage us to believe people when they tell us their experiences. Which is a good thing.)
This is really interesting to me because of the similarity to seventies lesbian separatist discussions of becoming a lesbian– which is that they reframed the attraction they felt to women from “friendship” to “love”. A lot of what Adrienne Rich is getting at when she talks about the lesbian continuum is that you have that sort of platonic love-between-women, and for some women (and apparently you guys) it is possible to tell a story about it where it becomes romantic.
So it’s interesting for me to read about a couple people going through that basic experience. I wonder how common that is.