Category: Sexual Orientation

Posted on

What Is Sexual Fluidity?

No matter where you fall on the sexuality spectrum, your feelings are valid.

By Jessica Toscano

Sexual fluidity is an aspect of sexuality that is about flexibility in your sexual preferences. It refers to the ability for a person’s sexual identity, attraction, or behavior to change depending on particular situations. Whether it’s for the short term or long term, people might experience changes in how they sexually identify, who they are attracted to, or what type of sexual partners they have.1

Sexual fluidity means that your sexuality can be ever-changing. Even if your sexuality has stayed pretty constant, it might change once or several times throughout your adolescence and adulthood.

Sexual fluidity can mean different things for different people.

For example, someone who is lesbian might consider themselves sexually fluid if they start experiencing attraction to someone who is non-binary. People who have heterosexual sexual encounters could be sexually fluid if they have an occasional desire for the same sex. Someone who is attracted to both men and women might eventually feel attraction to people of any gender.1

Changes in sexual attraction, identity, or behavior can be unexpected. The changes can be temporary or lasting.

Sexual fluidity doesn’t mean someone is confused or in denial about their sexual orientation, which is who you are attracted to sexually. Being sexually fluid is also not the same as being bisexual, a sexual orientation when you are consistently attracted to more than one gender.1

Unlike sexual orientation, which suggests that sexuality falls under one fixed category, sexual fluidity shows that your sexual thoughts, feelings, and attractions can be continuously evolving.2 Attraction isn’t always confined to one label, which is why some people might prefer the label of sexually fluid. And just because people can be sexual fluid doesn’t mean that sexual orientation doesn’t exist. Sexual fluidity simply highlights that your sexual orientation may not rigidly predict each and every desire you’ll have in your life.1

That said, it could be possible, for example, for a woman to identify as straight and still wonder how to know if she’s a lesbian due to a sporadic attraction to the same gender. Labels can definitely help you identify who you are based on a series of emotional, romantic, and sexual patterns, but they can’t predict each and every desire you will have over your lifespan, which is where sexual fluidity comes into play.

Research has shown that anywhere between less than 1% to 66% of people whose gender aligns with their sex at birth (cisgender) are sexually fluid. One study showed that, compared to cisgender men and women, trans men are even more likely to show sexual fluidity.3

Although sexual fluidity can affect someone of any sex or gender, research has suggested that more women than men are sexually fluid. For example, a small study 2013 study of 199 young LGBTQ+ adults showed that 64% of women and 52% of men identified as sexually fluid.4 However, newer research seems to suggest that women might not actually have higher rates of sexual fluidity after all.1

Someone can experience sexual fluidity at any point in their life. This might be because you meet someone new or learn about a sexual identity with which you more closely identify. But research does suggest that substantial changes in one’s attraction to others seem to be common in late adolescence to the early 20s as well as from the early 20s to the late 20s.5

Overall, there’s been an increase in the percentage of Americans who identify as LGBTQ+. Researchers suggest this rise could be from political changes, like the legalization of same-sex marriage, as well as social changes, like the destigmatization of sexual minorities.6

Since sexuality is a spectrum and where you fall on it can be different throughout your life, there is no sure way to know exactly if where you are now on the spectrum will be where you stay at all times. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still regularly check in with yourself to acknowledge your feelings.

Here are some signs you might be sexually fluid:1

  • You feel a nonexclusive attraction to different genders. Unlike the constant attraction to more than one gender that comes with bisexuality, sexual fluidity means you sporadically feel attracted to different genders, sometimes at the same time and sometimes not. Your change in attraction can happen several times throughout your life or it can happen only once.
  • Your sexual attractions change over time. If your attraction to others consistently fluctuates, you might find that you don’t identify with the description of any one sexual orientation because not just one fits your sexual attraction pattern.
  • Your sexual attraction, behavior, and identity aren’t consistent. You might find that there are times in your life when your thoughts and actions don’t match your identity. For instance, if you identify as straight but are sometimes sexually intimate with the same gender or if you identify as gay but often find yourself attracted to someone of another gender. These inconsistencies across your attraction, behavior, and identity might mean you are sexually fluid.

Young adults who have a fluid sexual orientation might experience or be worried that they may experience negative social reactions when letting people know about their fluidity. This can play a role in the negative mental effects some people might experience during their time of fluctuation.7 But accepting that your sexuality is changing might actually lead to better authentic self-expression. And being your true self can benefit your overall satisfaction and well-being.8 Self-acceptance of your sexuality has itself been linked to better mental health.9

Sexual fluidity is the ability for a person’s sexual identity, attraction, or behavior to change over time. This change can happen several times throughout your life or only once

Wherever you find yourself on the sexuality spectrum, the real importance lies in your ability to remain honest and true to your feelings. And remember you’re not alone. You can reach out to a trusted friend or family member for support; make an appointment with a healthcare provider or counseling service; join a support group to meet other people who are sexually fluid; or visit resources like The National Resource Center on LGBTQ Aging, which provides information and support to older members of the queer community, their families, and care partners.

Sources:

  1. Diamond LM. Sexual Fluidity in Male and Females. Curr Sex Health Rep. 2016;8(4):249-256. doi:10.1007/s11930-016-0092-z.
  2. Hargons C, Mosley D, Stevens-Watkins D, Studying Sex: A Content Analysis of Sexuality Research in Counseling Psychology. Couns Psychol. 2017;45(4):528–546. doi:10.1177/0011000017713756.
  3. Katz-Wise SL, Williams DN, Keo-Meier CL, Budge SL, Pardo S, Sharp C. Longitudinal Associations of Sexual Fluidity and Health in Transgender Men and Cisgender Women and Men. Psychol Sex Orientat Gend Divers. 2017; 4(4):460–471. doi:10.1037/sgd0000246.
  4. Katz-Wise SL. Sexual fluidity in young adult women and men: associations with sexual orientation and sexual identity development. 2013;189-208. doi:10.1080/19419899.2013.876445.
  5. Kaestle CE. Sexual Orientation Trajectories Based on Sexual Attractions, Partners, and Identity: A Longitudinal Investigation From Adolescence Through Young Adulthood Using a U.S. Representative Sample. J Sex Res. 2019;56(7):811-826. doi:10.1080/00224499.2019.1577351.
  6. Gates GJ. LGBT Data Collection Amid Social and Demographic Shifts of the US LGBT Community. Am J Public Health. 2017;107(8):1220–1222. doi:10.2105/AJPH.2017.303927.
  7. Frickea J, Sironib M. Sexual fluidity and BMI, obesity, and physical activity. SSM Popul Health. 2020; 11:100620. doi: 10.1016/j.ssmph.2020.100620.
  8. Al-Khouja, M., Weinstein, N., Ryan, W. and Legate, N., 2022. Self-expression can be authentic or inauthentic, with differential outcomes for well-being: Development of the authentic and inauthentic expression scale (AIES). Journal of Research in Personality, 97, p.104191.
  9. Camp, J., Vitoratou, S. and Rimes, K., 2020. LGBQ Self-Acceptance and Its Relationship with Minority Stressors and Mental Health: A Systematic Literature Review. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 49(7), pp.2353-2373.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

How to Embrace Aging as a Gay Man

“When you’ve spent your formative years in the closet, it’s difficult to escape the feeling that you need to make up for lost time.”

By Nick Levine

We’ve all seen the viral tweet: “Gay culture is being a teenager when you’re 30 because your teenage years were not yours to live.” It’s a heartbreakingly relatable sentiment, and a wryly funny one, because it’s rooted in truth. When you’ve spent a portion of your formative years in the closet, it’s difficult to escape the feeling that you need to make up for lost time.

Doing that’s not easy. It would be unfair to suggest that gay male culture is completely focused on recapturing youth, but there’s definitely a subset of the LGBTQ community that equates being young with being sexually desirable. Open any gay hookup app and you’ll find guys looking for, or calling themselves, a “twink,” decades-old queer shorthand for a young cis man who’s probably white, probably slim, and probably has little or no body hair. It’s difficult to pinpoint when someone might lose their twink credentials—is it turning 26? Gaining weight? Growing a beard? And if he continues to date younger men as he gets older, he might become defined by another, less flattering label: “chickenhawk”—essentially the gay male version of a “cougar.”

Twinks and other young queer men don’t necessarily have it easier than the rest of us—far from it. Roo, a gay man from London who turns 30 next February, admits that he felt sucked into a collective “marketplace mentality” for much of his twenties. “I think we put so much currency on certain facets of ourselves and other gay men when we’re that age,” he says. “It’s all about how much sex you’re having, how many people are in your DMs, how many likes you can get on a selfie, how many followers you have.”

As he approaches his 30th, Roo says he’s happy to leave this “naive and childish” mentality behind. “My value now is in how good my mental health is, and asking myself, ‘Am I taking care of myself properly?’ I mind my own business and try not to compare myself to other people.”

Roo’s ability to think more logically about his self-worth as he gets older is impressive. But is it achievable for everyone on the cusp of 30? I spent the last year of my twenties going out to gay clubs more than ever before—even the ones I’d previously dismissed as “basic” and “just for out-of-towners.” I had plenty of fun, but eventually burned out and began to dread waking up to yet another Uber receipt and nuclear hangover. It was only later that I realized I’d partied harder because, subconsciously at least, I thought it was my last chance to go out dancing without looking out of place—without looking “too old.”

It’s ridiculous to claim that society places greater expectations on aging gay men than other groups—look at the way women are judged if they’re still “single and childless” in their thirties. But the pressures imposed by heteronormative society can definitely affect queer people, too. “I didn’t really think much about turning 30 until maybe three months before it happened,” says Bu, a gay man from Manchester. “Friends and family started making comments like ‘Oh, you’re getting old now—and you’re still not married.'” Bu also felt “expectations” from his family to have achieved certain traditional markers of professional and personal success. “ I had this realization that I hadn’t done anything of the sort, which led to anxiety and regret,” he says.

For Bu, heteronormative expectations combined with youth-centric attitudes within the LGBTQ community combined to create a toxic double whammy of panic. “As a person of color, I’m already marginalized for something I can’t control—my race and ethnicity,” he says. “Now my age was going to be another factor reducing the pool of guys interested in me. People were calling me ‘daddy’ and rejecting me based on my age right after telling me I looked 23.”

Looking to our queer elders can provide some comfort in aging. Martin, a gay man from Lausanne, jokes that at 46 he’s “probably ancient in gay years.” Six months ago, he experienced something akin to a “mid-life crisis” when he and his partner separated. “I definitely felt some intense emotions about my own mortality and wondered if I would find love again,” he says.

Over time, Martin believes he “made peace” with being single and began to “enjoy my life as it came.” He realized that with experience comes benefits. “ I feel like my sex life has gotten better in my late forties than it was in my late thirties,” he says. “I feel more self-assured and I’ll happily go to a club and dance on my own. That inner knowledge of myself, both bad and good, means I have a quiet confidence in who I am rather than what I have or do.”

As a gay man, getting older means unpicking two intertwined strands of prevailing thinking: those imposed by heteronormative society, and those imposed by our own community. Once we do, we can fully embrace the cliché that “age ain’t nothing but a number.” And if all else fails, there’s a certain reassurance in the knowledge that Blanche from The Golden Girls was getting laid—a lot—well into her sixties. May we all be so blessed.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Queer Animals Are Everywhere.

Science Is Finally Catching On.

The animal kingdom isn’t nearly as straight as you think.

by Eliot Schrefer

In 1913, naturalists captured a flock of penguins from the Antarctic and brought them to spend the rest of their lives in the Edinburgh Zoo. The birds that survived the transition came to enchant the Scottish public with their antics. They could go from suave to goofy and back again, simply by gliding in the water, toddling around on land for a bit, then diving in once more.

Over the years, the zookeepers struggled to determine which penguins were male and which were female, renaming four of the five in the process. The complications only grew from there. Like most birds, penguins are socially but not sexually monogamous. Though they form lifelong unions, they are very happy to canoodle on the side — and there were only so many sexual configurations five of them could go through before one truth became self-evident: The penguins were bisexual. As zoo director T.H. Gillespie wryly observed in his 1932 recounting of these sexual triangulations, they “enjoy privileges not as yet permitted to civilized mankind.”

Bi penguins have been stirring things up for over a century. The first record of same-sex sex in penguins was in 1911, when explorer George Murray Levick discovered “depraved” behavior in wild Adélies. In 2000, a pair of male chinstrap penguins at New York City’s Central Park Zoo bonded and raised a chick from an egg they’d been given to foster, inspiring the children’s book “And Tango Makes Three.” More recently, penguin behavior sounded like it was ripped straight from a celebrity gossip site when it emerged that two male penguins had stolen an egg from a hetero couple at a Dutch zoo — and then proceeded to steal an egg from a “lesbian” couple the very next year.

Penguins aren’t the only sexually adventuresome animals. Over the past 20 years, a burst of research — driven in part by a new generation of scientists more accepting of queerness — has shown significant amounts of previously unreported homosexual behavior throughout the animal kingdom, from flour beetles to gorillas. While few animals are exclusively “gay” or “lesbian,” an extraordinary number, it now appears, engage in some form of same-sex relations. There are now reputable evidence-confirmed findings of such behavior in 1,500 animal species and counting

As a graduate student in animal studies, I’ve often faced an unpleasant prospect: The theory of natural selection, at least as it’s classically considered, could argue that queerness shouldn’t exist. In a Noah’s Ark conception of life, with dutifully procreating male-female pairs for each animal species, non-straight behavior seems to disrupt the natural order by preventing the transmission of genes over generations. This conundrum has started to feel far more than academic in recent months, as multiple states have passed legislation restricting reading about or even discussing LGBTQIA+ identities in schools. The logic behind such laws, it seems to me, goes something like this: If queerness doesn’t come about naturally, then it can be walled out of human populations by limiting access to the very idea of it.

The recent surge in same-sex animal scholarship, however, offers a powerful challenge to that thinking. For hundreds of years, it turns out, we’ve been looking at animal sex through too narrow a lens — with significant consequences for our beliefs about what counts as natural in our own species.

Christian theologians have long pointed to the absence of animal homosexuality as evidence that humans oughtn’t to be doing it, either. Thirteenth-century philosopher and priest Thomas Aquinas argued that homosexual behavior in humans is wrong precisely because it doesn’t occur between animals. He saw it as a sign of decadence — a falling down from our state of animal grace into the world of human corruption.

The assumption of heterosexuality among animals took its first major hit in 1834, when August Kelch, an entomologist, discovered two male Melolontha melolontha — beetles commonly known as cockchafers or doodlebugs — having sex. He concluded that it had to be an act of rape. As he initially framed it in a German scientific journal, “the larger and stronger of the two had forced itself on the smaller and weaker one, had exhausted it and only because of this dominance had conquered it

The puzzle of mating males captured the imagination of entomologists, who busily published articles about it for years. As science historian Ross Brooks chronicled in 2009 in the Archives of Natural History — in an article titled “All too human: responses to same-sex copulation in the common cockchafer” — some scientists proposed that the receiving males were being mistaken for females. Others offered still different explanations, but it wasn’t until 1896 that someone dared to put forward a radical suggestion: In a paper published even as Oscar Wilde sat in prison for “gross indecency,” Henri Gadeau de Kerville, a leading French entomologist, theorized that some of the doodlebugs just … preferred it (“pédérastie par goût”). He was thoroughly scolded by his colleagues — at which point the question of same-sex doodlebug sex, after having been bandied about for much of the 19th century, mostly dropped from scientific discourse.

Did scientists avoid publishing on same-sex animal sex because they were worried about being scolded as Gadeau de Kerville was? Or did they simply find it shameful? George Murray Levick, the explorer who wrote about homosexual behavior in Adélie penguins in 1911, shielded his observations of penguin “depravity” from casual observers by recording them in his field notes using the Greek alphabet — and they were still cut from the official expedition reports. A prominent mammalogist, Valerius Geist, couldn’t help but notice frequent homosexual sex at his bighorn sheep field site in the 1960s, but Geist avoided publishing those findings because it made him “cringe … to conceive of those magnificent beasts as ‘queers.’ ” Years later he relented, writing that he eventually “admitted that the rams lived in essentially a homosexual society.” As for those scientists who did want to write about same-sex sexual behavior in animals, one option was to couch it in the same judgmental language used for humans — as in a 1922 study on baboons called “Disturbances of the Sexual Sense,” or a 1987 study of same-sex mating in butterflies titled “A Note on the Apparent Lowering of Moral Standards in the Lepidoptera.”

Research has shown that chimpanzees use sex for more than procreation; male chimps engage in sexual activity to reconcile after fights.
Up to a third of Laysan albatross nests are female-female.

The minimizing of animal sexual diversity was not only about discomfort. Christine Webb, a primatologist at Harvard’s Department of Human Evolutionary Biology, explains that the dominant model of evolution “emphasizes selfish competition and the survival of the fittest.” But the chimpanzees Webb studies use sex for a variety of purposes, such as managing stress and tension. Once she and the co-authors of her recent paper allowed for observations that contradicted their assumptions that chimps had sex for procreation only, they made a breakthrough discovery: Males engage in sexual activity to reconcile after fights. A year later, a study of a separate group of chimps in Uganda found that “sociosexual behaviour” is common — and that the majority of it is between males.

This research is hardly an outlier. Coldblooded male garter snakes use pheromones to encourage courtship from other males in the area, forming “mating balls,” perhaps to help warm up individuals whose temperatures have gotten dangerously low. Polyamory — the bonding of three or more animals, instead of the conventional two — expands the numbers of parents for each offspring, increasing their survivability, and can be found in many species of waterfowl, most famously the graylag goose. Female-female pair bonds in birds such as gulls, roseate terns and albatrosses average more eggs (which are fertilized by sex outside the union) per nest. The fact that a bird population with many bonded females sharing a few males between them would have higher reproductive output led historian and ornithologist Jared Diamond to dryly wonder whether “further study of homosexually paired female birds may help clarify what, if anything, males are good for — in an evolutionary sense, of course.”

Evolutionary biologist Mounica Kota is a fan of Laysan albatrosses, for whom up to a third of the nests are female-female. “They’re like my lesbian moms. I have a big photograph of them in my office,” she told me. She’s part of the new generation of openly LGBTQIA+ scientists who are frank about how their personal identity aligns with their professional research, even if it opens them to accusations of partiality. Kota, who is a lesbian, struggled with coming out earlier in life, and she was heartened by a class in animal behavior that she took as an undergrad.

Sidney Woodruff, a PhD candidate in ecology at the University of California at Davis, has been studying conservation of the western pond turtle, which lacks sex chromosomes and whose sex is instead determined by incubation temperatures — a phenomenon turtle researchers dub “girls are hot, boys are cool.” Woodruff, who identifies as nonbinary and queer, feels kinship with animals who also cross sexual binaries — but they treat this personal element as a source of caution as much as anything else. “I have to keep in mind that if I’m researching sex and wildlife species, I’ll want it to be a certain way because of my own gender and sexual identity,” Woodruff told me. “It’s a lot of power that we have, but in our quest to find inaccuracies in previous research, we have to make sure we’re also being humble enough to know that we’re not always going to get the answer we want.”

Recently, scientists have begun to take seriously a theory that biologist Vincent Savolainen summarizes as “bisexual advantage”: the idea that fluid sexuality has increased reproduction chances over the history of life, making bisexuality “an evolutionary optimum.” In social animals, the logic goes, absolute homosexuality would produce no offspring, but absolute heterosexuality could also be limiting, as it might make for an organism that is “poor at forming social alliances.” Better for an animal to exist away from the extremes, so it won’t miss out on procreating or on the social survival strategies that same-sex activity offers. “The bisexual advantage model,” Savolainen concludes, “is perhaps the most conservative genetic explanation for the persistence of homosexual behavior.”

This model is supported by a 2019 paper from a group of young scholars that notes that the earliest creatures wouldn’t have discriminated between sexes, because the earliest creatures didn’t have sexes. Therefore, aversion to homosexual sex would have had to specifically arise over the history of life, which this team of researchers finds unlikely, since the opportunity cost of same-sex sex is relatively low. Given that sexual monogamy is more rare than we once thought, having occasional sex or even forming a lifelong bond with a same-sex partner doesn’t mean an animal isn’t also reproducing. As one of the originators of this “ancestral state” hypothesis, Max Lambert, put it to me: “Biologists told ourselves for so long that it must be unnatural. My research led to a good question: Why do queer things exist? The simple answer is that animal bisexuality is not costly. It was so biologically simple.”

As most any Homo sapiens will tell you, sex that doesn’t bring about offspring can still be worthwhile. The bonobo apes, for example, capitalize on the release of the bonding hormone oxytocin during homosexual sex to strengthen the social alliances between females. A study by primatologists Zanna Clay and Frans de Waal found that female-female sex is the most frequent sexual activity in the species — which is especially noteworthy, as bonobos also happen to be in a rough tie with chimpanzees as our closest animal relatives. Governed by a matriarchy of sexually connected mothers, they have far lower levels of aggression than chimps, giving them what Christine Webb described to me as “a reputation as the sexy hippie apes.”

Bottlenose dolphins also use sex to reinforce their social alliances, in their case between males. Outside of mother-calf bonds, unions between males are the only stable social unit in their society. Dolphin males will partner for life, and the pair will occasionally bring in a female to mate before going their own ways. It wasn’t until recent years that a prominent field site in Shark Bay, Australia, established just how those males cement their alliances: frequent and acrobatic sex, an average of 2.38 times an hour. (As one gay weekly newspaper joked, “Grindr has announced a new gay cruising app for dolphins, called Flippr.”)

In some marine snail species, all individuals are born male, and once two males choose each other, one of them simply changes sex. Much later, after she’s finished with her first partner, that now-female snail might meet a different male and stay female. In laboratory studies, some males kept choosing other males, even though they’d then have to wait a few days for their partner to change sex, while other males always went for females. The snails had preferences!

Webb argues that same-sex sexual behavior, as in her chimpanzee subjects, is an adaptive, desirable response to our needs as interconnected creatures. “What about cooperation?” she asks. “What about social bonding — which we know is really important for fitness, by the way, right? Social bonds are really important for well-being. Managing conflicts and managing stress and tension are really important for well-being. We’ve been fixated on one side of the story.”

Meanwhile, though members of some animal species gain advantages from same-sex behavior, research is also emerging to suggest that other species might do it just because it feels good. Within a scientific worldview that continues mostly to see animals as evolutionary cogs, this is a controversial take. Anthropologist Paul Vasey has been studying Japanese macaque monkeys for decades. Like bonobos, the macaques engage in frequent female-female sex. Vasey and his team methodically tested the various theories that have been proposed for the persistence of homosexual sex in the monkeys: that the females were expressing dominance; that they were bartering for parental care; that they were reconciling after a fight; or (my personal favorite) that they were staging sexual encounters to excite nearby males, in what I’d call the “you wish, guys” theory of monkey lesbianism. Vasey found that none of the theories held up to testing, which led him to a startling conclusion, at least to any strict Darwinians: “Despite over 40 years of intensive research on this species, there is not a single study demonstrating any adaptive value for female-female sexual behavior in Japanese macaques.” In other words, the females appear to be having sex with other females simply because they derive pleasure from it.

Male bighorn sheep. Mammalogist Valerius Geist noticed frequent homosexual sex at his bighorn sheep field site in the 1960s but avoided publishing those findings for years.

Like the Edinburgh penguins, many animals are sexually monomorphic, meaning males and females are indistinguishable to human eyes. This makes it all too easy to map our own assumptions onto their sex lives — and to tell ourselves a false story about which actions are “natural” and which are not.

As recently as 1986, a Georgia sodomy law was upheld in the landmark Bowers v. Hardwick case, and the “unnaturalness” of the act was a crucial part of the majority’s opinion. Sodomy laws stayed on the books until 2003, when the Supreme Court ruled them unconstitutional — aided by an amicus brief citing the research that had come out in the meantime documenting homosexual activity among animals.

We might have known about the sheer diversity of animal sexuality a long time ago if we, as a culture, had managed to lower our blinders. “We like to think we derive a lot of our ideas from the animal world, but it’s actually the opposite,” says Kota. “We put a lot of our ideas onto the animal world.” Now, we have begun to see a more complicated truth about animals — and also, perhaps, about ourselves.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

We often hear that sexuality is on a spectrum.

What exactly does that mean?

Sexuality is fluid and ever-changing — not something stagnant to be “discovered.”

By Kelly Grace Finney

You’ll hear it all the time: Sexuality is on a spectrum. But what exactly does this mean? And how does it differ from checking off “straight, gay, or bisexual” on an intake form?

In modern psychological research, “sexual orientation” is a term used to describe the overarching umbrella of human sexual preferences. This includes, but is not necessarily limited to, sexual attraction, romantic attraction, sexual behavior and sexual identity. For a lot of folks, these factors all align: For example, a straight woman who is sexually and romantically attracted to men, with a history of sexual relationships with only men. However, these differences are not so clearly defined in a lot of folks’ experiences, which can lead to a lot of shame and confusion.

Sexual fluidity is the concept that sexual orientation can be context-dependant and change over time. You may have heard the term “gay for the stay” to describe incarcerated folks having same-sex relationships in prison when they would otherwise engage in opposite-sex relationships in their communities.

But this isn’t just limited to folks who are removed and isolated from greater society. Even “Saturday Night Live’s” comedy music group The Lonely Island wrote the song “The Golden Rule” as a humorous defense of having three-ways with a member of the same gender. It is also common for folks to engage in sexual relationships with one gender, but fantasize about or watch pornography focused on other genders. And we can’t forget about those who identify as straight but have a habit of kissing or engaging in other sexual behaviors with people of the same gender when under the influence of alcohol or other drugs. If sexual identity, sexual attraction and sexual behavior were all the same, how could we account for these differences in alignment?

This is why it is so important to pay attention to the differences between sexual identity and sexual attraction. A lesbian woman could have a satisfying sexual experience with a man, but that does not necessarily mean that she wants to continue engaging in sex with men, nor does it mean she would want to communicate to others that she is looking for a heterosexual partnership. Therefore, she could still identify as lesbian as a way to tell others that she is looking for partnership with another woman.

Our sexual identities are labels that we use to let ourselves and others know what type of relationships we prefer. However, sexual identity is not the end-all, be-all of relational preferences.

By labeling folks’ sexual fluidity as “confusion,” we are invalidating the very meaningful relationships that others engage in. As Carrie Bradshaw put it on “Sex and the City,” “I’m not even sure bisexuality exists. I think it’s just a layover on the way to Gaytown.”

While this was broadcast in the year 2000, many folks today still struggle to understand anything outside of the gay-straight binary. We often receive cultural messages that bisexual men are really homosexuals testing the waters, while bisexual women engage in same-sex relationships to gain attention from men.

What do these misconceptions have in common? They both rely on the idea that fundamentally, if given the choice, men are ultimately the most desired gender. This patriarchal idea serves the function of categorizing folks in neat, clean boxes as a means to oppress. But, as psychological researchers keep telling us, humans are anything but easily categorized.

Our rigid views around sexuality and sexual identity are part of what fuels violence against transgender and non-binary folk. If society didn’t expect us to “find” and settle on our sexual preferences, there wouldn’t be so much pressure on people, especially straight folk, to defend their sexuality. For example, someone can identify as straight or mostly straight, but have a relationship with someone who is non-binary. This is the key difference between how we identify and who we are attracted to. We should be embracing these gray areas, rather than utilizing shame to discourage exploration.

Sexuality is fluid and ever-changing — not something stagnant to be “discovered.” If we let go of the expectation that we must be “sure” of our sexual preferences, we open up doors to more satisfying sexual and relational experiences.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Pride 2022

Happy Gay Pride Month!

gay-pride.jpg

It’s time, once again, to post my annual pride posting.

In my lifetime I’ve witnessed a most remarkable change in societal attitudes toward those of us on the sexual fringe. One only needs to go back 50 years in time. I was 17 years old then and I knew I was queer. When I looked out on the world around me this is what I saw. Homosexuality was deemed a mental disorder by the nation’s psychiatric authorities, and gay sex was a crime in every state but Illinois. Federal workers could be fired merely for being gay.

Today, gays and trans folks serve openly in the military, work as TV news anchors and federal judges, win elections as big-city mayors and members of Congress. Popular TV shows have gay and trans protagonists.

Six years ago this month, a Supreme Court ruling lead to the legalization of same-sex marriage throughout the whole country.

The transition over five decades has been far from smooth — replete with bitter protests, anti-gay violence, backlashes that inflicted many political setbacks, and AIDS. Unlike the civil rights movement and the women’s liberation movement, the campaign for gay rights unfolded without household-name leaders.

And yet some still experience a backlash in the dominant culture. I don’t relish the idea, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it. And while we endure this be reminded that it won’t smart nearly as much if we know our history. And we should also remember the immortal words of Martin Luther King, Jr. “The moral arc of the universe bends at the elbow of justice.”

In honor of gay pride month, a little sex history lesson — The Stonewall Riots

The confrontations between demonstrators and police at The Stonewall Inn, a mafia owned bar in Greenwich Village NYC over the weekend of June 27-29, 1969 are usually cited as the beginning of the modern Lesbian/Gay liberation Movement. What might have been just another routine police raid onstonewall.jpg a bar patronized by homosexuals became the pivotal event that sparked the entire modern gay rights movement.

The Stonewall riots are now the stuff of myth. Many of the most commonly held beliefs are probably untrue. But here’s what we know for sure.

  • In 1969, it was illegal to operate any business catering to homosexuals in New York City — as it still is today in many places in the world. The standard procedure was for New York City’s finest to raid these establishments on a regular basis. They’d arrest a few of the most obvious ‘types’ harass the others and shake down the owners for money, then they’d let the bar open as usual by the next day.
  • Myth has it that the majority of the patrons at the Stonewall Inn were black and Hispanic drag queens. Actually, most of the patrons were probably young, college-age white guys lookin for a thrill and an evening out of the closet, along with the usual cadre of drag queens and hustlers. It was reasonably safe to socialize at the Stonewall Inn for them, because when it was raided the drag queens and bull-dykes were far more likely to be arrested then they were.
  • After midnight June 27-28, 1969, the New York Tactical Police Force called a raid on The Stonewall Inn at 55 Christopher Street in NYC. Many of the patrons who escaped the raid stood around to witness the police herding the “usual suspects” into the waiting paddywagons. There had recently been several scuffles where similar groups of people resisted arrest in both Los Angeles and New York.
  • Stonewall was unique because it was the first time gay people, as a group, realized that what threatened drag queens and bull-dykes threatened them all.
  • Many of the onlookers who took on the police that night weren’t even homosexual. Greenwich Village was home to many left-leaning young people who had cut their political teeth in the civil rights, anti-war and women’s lib movements.
  • As people tied to stop the arrests, the mêlée erupted. The police barricaded themselves inside the bar. The crowd outside attempted to burn it down. Eventually, police reinforcements arrived to disperse the crowd. But this just shattered the protesters into smaller groups that continued to mill around the streets of the village.
  • A larger crowd assembled outside the Stonewall the following night. This time young gay men and women came to protest the raids that were commonplace in the city. They held hands, kissed and formed a mock chorus line singing; “We are the Stonewall Girls/We wear our hair in curls/We have no underwear/We show our pubic hair.” Don’t ‘cha just love it?
  • Police successfully dispersed this group without incident. But the print media picked up the story. Articles appeared in the NY Post, Daily News and The Village Voice. Theses helped galvanize the community to rally and fight back.
  • Within a few days, representatives of the Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis (two of the country’s first homophile rights groups) organized the city’s first ever “Gay Power” rally in Washington Square. Some give hundred protesters showed up; many of them gay and lesbians.

stonewall02.jpgThe riots led to calls for homosexual liberation. Fliers appeared with the message: “Do you think homosexuals are revolting? You bet your sweet ass we are!” And the rest, boys and girls, is as they say is history.

During the first year after Stonewall, a whole new generation of organizations emerged, many identifying themselves for the first time as “Gay.” This not only denoted sexual orientation, but a radical way to self-identify with a growing sense of open political activism. Older, more staid homophile groups soon began to make way for the more militant groups like the Gay Liberation Front.

The vast majority of these new activists were under thirty; dr dick’s generation, don’t cha know. We were new to political organizing and didn’t know that this was as ground-breaking as it was. Many groups formed on colleges campuses and in big cities around the world.

By the following summer, 1970, groups in at least eight American cities staged simultaneous events commemorating the Stonewall riots on the last Sunday in June. The events varied from a highly political march of three to five thousand in New York to a parade with floats for 1200 in Los Angeles. Seven thousand showed up in San Francisco.

Posted on

11 Signs You May Be Bisexual & Common Myths About Bisexuality

By Stephanie Barnes

The word “bisexual,” for many, still exclusively brings to mind a person attracted to both men and women. That was the dictionary definition for decades, but as public discourse has evolved to finally acknowledge the vast number of gender identities that exist, that definition no longer feels specific or broad enough to capture the full range of experiences of bisexuality.

Today, our understanding of bisexuality has evolved along with our understanding of sexual attraction and gender identity. As people are finally able to embrace a seemingly infinite number of identities and ways of being, we need language to expand to hold us, or at the very least give us something to hold on to. The word “bisexual” is a perfect example of this shift.

What does bisexual mean?

In the most general sense, the term bisexual refers to anyone who experiences a romantic or sexual attraction toward more than one gender, which can include women, men, nonbinary folks, and other genders, as well as both cisgender and transgender folks. Bisexuality is not binary.

According to Angélique “Angel” Gravely, M.Ed., an LGBTQ+ educator and advocate, some bisexual people define their attraction in more specific ways, but the one thing that holds true for all definitions is that they indicate being attracted to more than one gender in some way.

“The most important thing to remember when it comes to defining bisexuality is that there is more than one accurate definition of bisexuality and more than one valid way of experiencing attraction as a bisexual person,” she tells mbg. “Bisexual is a label that has room for multiplicity, and that multiplicity is what makes the bisexual+ community beautiful and diverse.”

How common is bisexuality?

According to a 2016 report from the CDC, 1.9% of men and 1.3% of women identified as “homosexual, gay, or lesbian,” while 5.5% of women and around 2% of men said they were bisexual. A 2021 report from Gallup also found that about 55% of LGBT adults are bisexual, meaning that bisexual folks make up the single largest group within the LGBTQ+ community.

Since there is still so much prejudice in the world against LGBTQ+ folks, these numbers are likely lower than the reality; some are still fearful to “come out” or acknowledge their sexual orientation publicly. 

Common misconceptions:

Myth No. 1: The bi- in bisexual refers to the traditional gender binary.

One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding the bisexual community has to do with the prefix bi-, which means two. Dainis Graveris, a sex educator and founder of Sexual Alpha, says, for a long time, this is how many people defined bisexuality—that it’s only focused on the attraction to two opposing genders (men and women) within the binary.

“However, bisexuality does not mean attraction to cis-male and cis-female [people] only. It could also encompass romantic, emotional, and sexual attractions to nonbinary people,” he explains. “Many people who identify as bisexual are attracted to genders beyond the binary—specifically, attraction to gender like your own and toward genders different from yours.”

In short, you can be both bisexual and nonbinary, and being bisexual can include attraction to nonbinary people. 

Myth No. 2: Bisexual people are attracted to everyone, all the time.

This is another harmful stereotype, according to Graveris, even though it’s rarely accurate. Someone identifying as bisexual doesn’t mean they’re walking around experiencing some form of attraction to everyone they meet (just like how heterosexual women aren’t necessarily attracted to every single man they meet, for example). It also doesn’t automatically mean they’ll be more sexually promiscuous.

Graveris adds that there are some bi folks who have a split 50/50 attraction to two genders, but more often, bi folks are more interested in certain genders than others.

“Either approach is totally fine, and it’s very much normal to have a change of feelings over time. You see, being bisexual doesn’t necessarily mean that you need to be attracted to two or more genders at the same time, in the same way, and to the same degree,” he adds.

Myth No. 3: It’s just a phase…

Another common misconception about bisexuality is that being bisexual is just an experimental or transition phase, and that these people are going to “come to their senses” and eventually come out and choose one gender over the other, according to Graveris. This is false and also continues the binary of sexuality and gender.

“Never invalidate your bisexual identity, feelings, and experiences. Remember that no two bisexual experiences are the same,” he emphasizes. “Bisexuality is a unique identity. Your bisexual identity is valid. You are valid.”

Myth No. 4: Bisexual people are more likely to cheat.

It’s also a common belief that folks who identify as bi are more likely to be unfaithful. Graveris says there’s no evidence pointing out that bisexuality and cheating go hand in hand.

“Bisexual people build relationships just like any other person. If they stay in a monogamous relationship, they’re [just as] likely to be faithful as anyone else. Being faithful is a choice; cheating is a choice, regardless of gender,” he says.

Signs you may be bisexual:

1. You have conflicting feelings toward another gender.

Like any sexuality, bi feelings can be confusing—especially if you’ve grown up in a traditional household or have preferred one gender for most of your life. Graveris says you may now find that you’re questioning yourself, perhaps because you’re finding yourself with feelings for someone of a different gender. Rest assured that “these feelings are entirely normal. Over time, you’ll get some clarity over your confusion when you begin to explore your desires and feelings,” he says.

2. You’ve found yourself thinking characters in movies, series, and TV shows are hot—regardless of their gender.

“Perhaps you’ve started noticing attraction to both or any gender when you were younger. While this isn’t a surefire sign that you’re bi, it could help you begin an internal conversation about what you really want,” Graveris says. (Note: Some bisexual people are attracted to men and women, though for some bisexual people, the genders they’re attracted to may not necessarily include both men and women.)

3. You relate to a new bi character on your fave show…

…or you get a sense of pride when a famous star comes out as queer or bi. Although these two examples don’t immediately mean you’re bi, they could be good indicators.

4. You fantasize about people of different genders.

Graveris says, while some fantasies aren’t meant to be enacted upon or might not mean anything much, there might be a reason you can’t stop thinking about people of different genders in your fantasies or dreams.

5. You see yourself having a long-term relationship with someone, regardless of gender.

Visualizing having a long-term partnership with someone of any gender is a good sign that you’re bi. You might be more comfortable with one specific gender over others, but if you could see yourself dating people of different genders, that may signal some bisexual inclinations.

6. The “bi” label resounds to you.

When you think about all it entails, you realize you identify with the label and think it perfectly fits how you experience romantic and/or sexual attraction. If you’re comfortable using and being called this label, it’s a good sign that you’re bi.

7. You take the stigma personally.

Graveris says a good indication that you might be bisexual is if you find the unfair portrayal or stigmas toward bisexual identities hurtful and take them personally. Unfortunately, he says, bi folks have been subject to scrutiny from outside and even inside the LGBTQ+ community.

“If you feel hurt when someone questions your sexuality or claims that it’s nonexistent or feel attacked when someone says that bisexuality is just a phase, you just like sleeping around, or you’re not straight/gay enough, then you might be bi,” he says.

How bisexuality relates to other identities.

Bisexual vs. pansexual.

Bisexuality and pansexuality are incredibly closely related and sometimes even used interchangeably. Some people embrace both, while some prefer one over the other. We’ve got a whole guide to the difference between bisexual and pansexual, but the gist: “Bisexual incorporates gender while pansexual does not,” says Carmel Jones, a relationship coach and founder of The Big Fling. “To be pansexual means that gender doesn’t factor much (if at all) into whether you are attracted to someone. Their attraction is to the person, regardless of their gender. But bisexuals register gender in their attraction to someone and recognize that they are attracted to more than just one gender.”

Asexuality.

Asexuality means there is a lack of sexual attraction and/or desire toward others in general. This is not gender-specific, but an asexual person might still have specific genders they’re more romantically interested in or would be open to having some sort of physical intimacy with. “You can also identify as both asexual and another sexuality, leaving it open-ended. Some people call this graysexual, and it signifies very little sexual attraction,” Jones says. In other words, yes, you could be both bisexual and asexual.

Romantic orientations.

Romantic attraction and sexual attraction are not the same thing, says Jones, and someone can be sexually attracted to some genders and romantically attracted to others. So, a person could be heterosexual but biromantic, for example.

Other terms to know.

  • Queer: The dictionary defines queer as something “odd, strange, or weird,” but the word has since been reclaimed and redefined. These days, queer is an umbrella term that is sometimes used to describe anyone within the LGBTQ+ community. The term also provides a sense of community for those who may not fit into one of the other categories specifically but also don’t identify as strictly straight or strictly cisgender.
  • Multisexual: An umbrella term for any sexual identities that include romantic and/or sexual attractions to more than one gender. This can include bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, queer, and others.
  • Omnisexual: Someone who is attracted to people of all genders, and for them, gender plays a huge role in that attraction.
  • Bi-curious: Someone who is looking to explore or has already begun exploring bisexuality. There’s some disagreement about whether this term has roots in biphobia, however.
  • Heteroflexible or homoflexible: A heteroflexible person is mostly straight (heterosexual) though occasionally attracted to the same gender or other genders. A homoflexible person likewise is mostly gay (homosexual) though occasionally is attracted to the “opposite” gender. For example, a heteroflexible man might primarily date and sleep with women but occasionally date or sleep with a man. Like with bi-curiosity, there’s still ongoing debate over whether these terms are rooted in biphobia.
  • Skoliosexual: Someone who is attracted to anyone who isn’t cisgender. This means a skoliosexual person will usually find themselves drawn to people who are trans or nonbinary.
  • Fluid: Some people describe themselves as sexually fluid. A person who is fluid experiences their sexuality or sexual identity as changing over time or in different contexts rather than having one finite way they experience attraction.

These terms and many, many more can be found in our huge glossary of sexual identities.

What’s the point of all these labels?

According to sex and relationship coach Azaria Menezes, for some people, labels can provide comfort and validation of something they experience to be true for them. Identifying with labels in sexuality can be incredibly supportive in naming your experience and finding comfort in relating to others who may feel the same.

“It’s human nature to want to feel belonging and acceptance, and labels can often be a wonderful and valid way to understand ourselves and find acceptance and belonging in our experiences. Identifying with a label that feels good to you can feel incredibly empowering and affirming to define yourself,” she tells mbg. “[Some people] identify with multiple labels, and sometimes they prefer to use terms that act more as an umbrella term without truly defining what the label is (fluid, queer, pansexual, etc.).”

On the other hand, labels aren’t the only way to feel this way. In fact, for others, labels can actually create the opposite feeling of comfort because they may feel constraining and restrictive and don’t support the experience they feel. Some folks feel like there aren’t any labels that feel good to them. So, if you’re having a hard time connecting to labels, Menezes suggests ditching them altogether.

“Sometimes folks grow and evolve, and finding new labels that match the experience can feel exhausting. The human experience of sexuality is incredibly diverse, and sometimes there isn’t a label that feels right, and so the most empowering thing to do might be to ditch the labels and just do you,” she says.

Additionally, Menezes says, “There really isn’t a one-fits-all when it comes to labels, but there is a one-fits-all around the choice in deciding what feels the most empowering to you, and that is: Take what you love and leave the rest. You get to choose what feels right for you.”

Dating when you’re bisexual:

1. Be true to who you are.

It’s OK to be upfront with potential new partners about your identity, says Antonia Hall, a transpersonal psychologist, sex educator, and author of The Ultimate Guide to a Multi-Orgasmic Life. Bisexual people can sometimes feel like they need to hide that part of themselves from dates due to the stigmas around bisexuality, but Hall says it’s important to release that shame. “Do not let societal pressures shame you for your personal sexual preferences.”

2. Be prepared for questions (and ignorance).

But remember, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. There are people in the world that are simply behind the times, says Jones. “When dating, just remember that curiosity and ignorance might come into play, and be prepared for that. But it’s important to know that your sexuality is your business, and you never need to justify yourself to anyone. If you are in a dating scenario where you are justifying, overexplaining, or feel uncomfortable, that person is not compatible for you.”

3. Take it slow.

“If you are newly exploring your bisexuality, it is fine to take small steps until you feel more comfortable dating multiple genders,” Hall says.

Jones also recommends taking things slow. It can feel exciting (or nerve-wracking) to enter an unfamiliar dating world, but taking things slower will help you explore it on your terms. It’s not going to happen overnight, and there’s a chance you may get rejected here or there. But hey—that’s how dating goes regardless of sexuality! So, remember who you are, what you want, and that the best experiences happen when you feel comfortable and work on your own timetable, she says.

4. Create a list of nonnegotiables.

“When you are new to navigating the bisexual dating world, it can feel as if the world is your oyster sometimes, and other times like nobody understands you. This pressure can then cloud your judgment when it comes to finding the right person,” says Jones. “Make a list of dating bottom lines that you can always refer to, regardless of the gender of the person you are dating.”

Supporting the bi+ community.

When it comes to supporting the bi+ community, many people need to start by letting go of judgment and releasing the stigma. A lot of what contributes to biphobia and bi-erasure are harmful cultural ideas and narratives around bisexuality, Menezes says. 

“Biphobia is a form of homophobia toward folks who identify as bisexual or bi. It’s important to challenge harmful beliefs and stories society has created around bisexuality. Bisexual folks face a lot of challenges in the LGBTQ community as well as the straight community, and part of supporting the bi community is educating and learning about some of the issues and challenges bi folks might face,” she says.

Biphobia can be found in all communities: Bisexual folks are often fetishized by the straight community and not queer enough for the queer community. Often this leaves folks who identify as bisexual feeling invalidated in their experiences and identity.

So if you want to support the bi+ community, start by pushing back against the harmful stereotypes and bi-erasure. “That can range from calling out biphobic comments you hear in conversation to advocating for your local LGBTQ+ organizations to provide tailored supports for bi+ people,” Gravely says.

Menezes says it’s important to create more spaces for celebrating bisexuality and to uplift the voices of bi folks in both LGBTQIA+ spaces and everywhere. It’s also important to educate yourself. Interact with bisexual folks, creators, and resource centers. You can start by spending time on websites such as Bisexual Resource Center and Bi.org, Gravely says. 

Ultimately, Gravely says supporting bi+ people comes down to acknowledging they exist, affirming their bisexual+ identities and experiences, and fighting with bi+ people to create a world where they can exist without fear of discrimination or stereotyping.

The takeaway.

If you think you might be bisexual, then take some time to explore the idea. See how the label feels. Your sexual identity doesn’t make you who you are, but they are a part of the whole self—which means it’s important to explore. It’s also important to know that you don’t need to claim a label immediately or ever. Be gentle with yourself as you navigate this journey of self-discovery.

In general, when it comes to bisexuality and all its nuances, it’s time to release those outdated definitions and the stigma rooted in misconception and ignorance. Show up for the people in your world as they need you to, and hold space for them as they continue to become.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Queerplatonic Relationships Are Like Supercharged Friendships That Aren’t Necessarily Romantic

By Ashley Broadwater

There are all kinds of relationships a person can have: friendly, romantic, professional, familial, etc. But sometimes, two or more “types” of relationships blend. For example, have you ever felt super close to someone to a degree that seems stronger than friendship but not quite romantic? If so, you may have experienced a queerplatonic relationship.

“The term ‘queerplatonic’ was conceived in aromantic and asexual communities to describe ‘alterous’ relationships—or emotional connections that aren’t sexual, romantic, or strictly platonic,” says mental health counselor Laura Harris, LCMHC. “Over time, the term has evolved to include how relationships could transition.” And, that evolution extends to relationships outside the LGBTQ+ community.

“The term ‘queerplatonic’ was conceived in aromantic and asexual communities to describe emotional connections that aren’t sexual, romantic, or strictly platonic.” —mental health counselor Laura Harris, LCMHC.

With an ebb and flow that doesn’t require a “define the relationship” conversation, queerplatonic dynamics are largely characterized by a fluidity and flexibility. “Usually, societal norms dictate lines separating friendship and romance, but in queerplatonic relationships, there are no lines, and they are more flexible in nature,” Lee Phillips, EdD, a psychotherapist and certified sex and couples therapist who works with LGBTQIA+ clients. “Queerplatonic relationships cultivate mutual deep intimacy and trust between partners with a level of emotional closeness and loyalty found in a romantic relationship.”

And queerplatonic relationships may be growing in popularity, as well. According to OkCupid data, the word “queerplatonic” saw a 50 percent spike in appearances on people’s dating profiles in April 2022 compared to April 2021, says Michael Kaye, head of global communications with the company.

As for why this might be and how such relationships tend to form, Dr. Phillips suggests it has to do with people growing increasingly close with one another but not necessarily feeling a romantic or sexual pull. This, perhaps, could be a side effect of our networks becoming tighter-knit amid pandemic socializing conditions, which have challenged fringe friendships and casual dating, and given more attention to our primary relationships.

In practice, queerplatonic relationships may look like people planning out their lives together, designating one another as emergency contacts, and traveling together, for just a few examples. According to Harris, a queerplatonic relationship could also mean cohabitation, physical intimacy (without the assumption of sex), sharing finances, and coparenting. So, basically like a best friend with benefits, assuming the benefits in question aren’t sexual in nature.

That said, queerplatonic relationships can turn romantic for some people. Such simply isn’t a given or even necessarily a likely scenario (especially if you’re already in a committed romantic partnership with another person). Rather, the closeness of queerplatonic relationships tends to focus on other forms of intimacy beyond that of romantic or physical elements. The people involved “may enjoy the friendship and emotional intimacy so much more than taking it further into something more romantic or sexual,” Dr. Phillips says. And if you are in a committed romantic partnership but also have a queerplatonic relationship with someone else, remember that communication is the of the game. There is no right or wrong so long as all parties involved are comfortable and feel safe.

Ultimately, the people involved in the relationship are the ones deciphering what is and isn’t included in their specific partnership—and there are no hard-and-fast guidelines by which to abide with this framework. “The individuals engaged in that relationship intentionally define rules in what their commitment entails, rather than automatic subscription to societal norms, such as sexual intercourse or romantic obligations,” Harris says.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Words matter

— Terms, pronouns and vocabulary to add to your everyday dictionary

By Sharla Brown-Ajayi

The glossary listed below is a list of terms used within the LGBTQIA community. This list is not completely comprehensive, as language is constantly evolving and new terms and identities are always forming. It is important to mirror the language someone uses to describe themselves to affirm their identity. When in doubt about a word, just ask!

advocate – ( verb) to actively support a particular cause, the action of working to end intolerance or educate others

agender – ( adj. ) a person with no (or very little) connection to the traditional system of gender, no personal alignment with the concepts of either man or woman, and/or someone who sees themselves as existing without gender. Sometimes called gender neutrois, gender neutral, or genderless.

androgyny/androgynous – ( noun ) a gender expression that has elements of both masculinity and femininity

aromantic – ( adj. ) experiencing little or no romantic attraction to others and/or has a lack of interest in romantic relationships/behavior. Aromanticism exists on a continuum from people who experience no romantic attraction or have any desire for romantic activities, to those who experience low levels, or romantic attraction only under specific conditions. Sometimes abbreviated to “aro” (pronounced like “arrow”).

asexual – ( adj. ) : experiencing little or no sexual attraction to others and/or a lack of interest in sexual relationships/behavior. Asexuality exists on a continuum from people who experience no sexual attraction or have any desire for sex, to those who experience low levels, or sexual attraction only under specific conditions. Sometimes abbreviated to “ace.”. For more information, click here.

bigender – ( adj ) a person who fluctuates between traditionally “woman” and “man” gender-based behavior and identities, identifying with both genders (or sometimes identifying with either man or woman, as well as a third, different gender).

binder – ( noun ) an undergarment used to alter or reduce the appearance of one’s breasts. Binding is often used to change the way other’s read/perceive one’s anatomical sex characteristics, and/or as a form of gender expression.

biological sex – ( noun ) a medical term used to refer to the chromosomal, hormonal and anatomical characteristics that are used to classify an individual as female, male, or intersex. Often referred to as simply “sex,” “physical sex,” “anatomical sex,” or specifically as “sex assigned at birth.”

biphobia – ( noun ) a range of negative attitudes (e.g., fear, anger, intolerance, invisibility, resentment, erasure, or discomfort) that one may have or express toward bisexual individuals. Biphobia can come from and be seen within the LGBTQ community as well as straight society.

bisexual – 1 ( adj. ) a person who experiences attraction to men and women. 2 ( adj. ) a person who experiences attraction to people of their gender and another gender. Bisexual attraction does not have to be equally split, or indicate a level of interest that is the same across the genders an individual may be attracted to. For more information, click here.

chosen name – ( noun ) a name that an individual chooses to be called that is different than their legal name. The term “chosen name” is usually favored over “preferred name” since preferred name may imply the name is just a preference, rather than a matter of identity.

cisgender – ( adj. ) a gender description for when someone’s sex assigned at birth and gender identity correspond (e.g., someone who was assigned male at birth, and identifies as a man). The word cisgender can also be shortened to “cis.”

cisnormativity – ( noun ) the assumption, in individuals and in institutions, that everyone is cisgender, and that cisgender identities are superior to transgender identities and people. Leads to invisibility of transgender or gender non-confomring identities.

closeted – ( adj. ) an individual who is not open to themselves or others about their (queer) sexuality or gender identity.

coming in – ( verb ) the process by which one accepts and/or comes to identify one’s own sexuality or gender identity (to “come in” to oneself).

coming out – ( verb ) the process by which one shares one’s sexuality or gender identity with others.

constellation – ( noun ) a way to describe the arrangement or structure of a polyamorous relationship.

dead name – ( noun ) the name given at birth/legal name of someone who has since changed their name or goes by a different name.

demiromantic – ( adj. ) little or no capacity to experience romantic attraction until a strong connection is formed with someone, often within a sexual relationship.

demisexual – ( adj. ) little or no capacity to experience sexual attraction until a strong connection is formed with someone, often within a romantic relationship.

drag king – ( noun ) someone who performs (hyper-) masculinity theatrically.

drag queen – ( noun ) someone who performs (hyper-) femininity theatrically.

emotional attraction – ( noun ) a capacity that evokes want to engage in emotionally intimate behavior (e.g., sharing, confiding, trusting, inter-depending), experienced in varying degrees (from little-to-none to intense). Often conflated with sexual attraction, romantic attraction, and/or spiritual attraction.

fluid(ity) – ( adj. ) generally with another term attached, like gender-fluid or fluid-sexuality, fluid(ity) describes an identity that may change or shift over time between or within the mix of the options available.

folx – ( noun ) a gender neutral term used to address a group

gay – 1 ( adj. ) experiencing attraction solely (or primarily) to some members of the same gender. Can be used to refer to men who are attracted to other men and women who are attracted to women. 2 ( adj. ) an umbrella term used to refer to the queer community as a whole, or as an individual identity label for anyone who is not straight.

gender binary – ( noun ) the idea that there are only two genders, man and woman.

gender confirmation surgery (GCS) – ( noun ) used by some medical professionals to refer to a group of surgical options that alter a person’s biological sex. “Gender confirmation surgery” is considered by many to be a more affirming term than gender reassignment surgery.

gender expression – ( noun ) the external display of one’s gender, through a combination of clothing, grooming, demeanor, social behavior, and other factors, generally made sense of on scales of masculinity, femininity, or another gender. Also referred to as “gender presentation.”

gender fluid – ( adj. ) a gender identity best described as a dynamic mix of multiple genders. A person who is gender fluid may feel like a mix of man or woman or another gender, but may feel more one gender on certain days.

gender identity – ( noun ) the internal perception of one’s gender, and how they label themselves, based on how much they align or don’t align with what they understand their options for gender to be.

gender non-conforming – 1 ( adj. ) a gender expression descriptor that indicates a non-traditional gender presentation (masculine woman or feminine man). 2 ( adj. ) a gender identity label that indicates a person who identifies outside of the gender binary. Often abbreviated as “GNC.”

gender normative – ( adj. ) someone whose gender presentation or gender identity aligns with society’s gender-based expectations.

genderqueer – 1 ( adj. ) a gender identity label often used by people who do not identify with the binary of man/woman. 2 ( adj. ) an umbrella term for many gender non-conforming or non-binary identities (e.g., agender, bigender, genderfluid).

gender variant – ( adj. ) someone who does not conform to gender-based expectations of society.

heteronormativity – ( noun ) the assumption, in individuals and/or in institutions, that everyone is heterosexual and that heterosexuality is superior to all other sexualities. Leads to invisibility and stigmatizing of other sexualities. Heteronormativity also leads us to assume that only masculine men and feminine women are straight.

heterosexual – ( adj. ) experiencing attraction solely (or primarily) to people of a different gender.

homophobia – ( noun ) an umbrella term for a range of negative attitudes (e.g., fear, anger, intolerance, resentment, erasure, or discomfort) that one may have toward LGBTQ people. The term can also connote a fear, disgust, or dislike of being perceived as LGBTQ.

homosexual – ( adj. ) a person primarily attracted to members of the same sex/gender. This historically medical term is considered stigmatizing (particularly as a noun) due to its history as a category of mental illness, and is discouraged for common use.

intersectionality – ( noun ) a term coined by Kimberle Crenshaw referring to the ways that systems of oppression are connected and overlapping

intersex – ( adj. ) term for a combination of chromosomes, gonads, hormones, internal sex organs, and genitals that differs from the patterns of male or female. Formerly known as hermaphrodite (or hermaphroditic), but these terms are now outdated and derogatory.

lesbian – ( adj. ) women who are primarily attracted to other women.

MSM / WSW – ( abbr. ) men who have sex with men or women who have sex with women, to distinguish sexual behaviors from sexual identities: because a man is straight, it doesn’t mean he’s not having sex with men. Often used in the field of HIV/Aids education, prevention, and treatment.

Mx. – ( noun ) an honorific (e.g. Mr., Ms., Mrs., etc.) that is gender neutral. It is often the option of choice for folks who do not identify within the gender binary

outing – ( verb ) involuntary or unwanted disclosure of another person’s sexual orientation, gender identity, or intersex status.

pansexual – ( adj. ) a person who experiences attraction for members of all gender identities/expressions. Often shortened to “pan.”

passing – 1 ( adj. & verb ) transgender individuals being accepted as, or able to “pass for,” a member of their self-identified gender identity (regardless of sex assigned at birth) without being identified as transgender. 2 ( adj. ) an LGB/queer individual who is believed to be or perceived as straight.

preferred pronouns – ( noun ) often used during introductions, becoming more common as a standard practice. Many suggest removing the “preferred,” because it indicates flexibility and/or the power for the speaker to decide which pronouns to use for someone else.

polyamorous – ( noun ) refers to the practice of, desire for, or orientation toward having ethical, honest, and consensual non-monogamous relationships (i.e. relationships that may include multiple partners). Often shortened to “poly.”

queer – 1 ( adj. ) an umbrella term to describe individuals who don’t identify as straight and/or cisgender. 2 ( noun ) a slur used to refer to someone who isn’t straight and/or cisgender. Due to its historical use as a derogatory term, and how it is still used as a slur many communities, it is not embraced or used by all members of the LGBTQ community. The term “queer” can often be use interchangeably with LGBTQ (e.g., “queer people” instead of “LGBTQ people”).

questioning – ( adj. ) an individual who or a time when someone is unsure about or exploring their own sexual orientation or gender identity.

QPOC / QTPOC – initialisms that stand for queer people of color and queer and/or trans people of color.

romantic attraction – ( noun ) a capacity that evokes want to engage in romantic intimate behavior (e.g., dating, relationships, marriage), experienced in varying degrees (from little-to-none, to intense). Often conflated with sexual attraction, emotional attraction, and/or spiritual attraction.

sex assigned at birth (SAAB) – ( abbr. ) a phrase used to intentionally recognize a person’s assigned sex (not gender identity). Sometimes called “designated sex at birth” (DSAB) or “sex coercively assigned at birth” (SCAB), or specifically used as “assigned male at birth” (AMAB) or “assigned female at birth” (AFAB)

sexual attraction – ( noun ) a capacity that evokes want to engage in physically intimate behavior (e.g., kissing, touching, intercourse), experienced in varying degrees (from little-to-none, to intense). Often conflated with romantic attraction, emotional attraction, and/or spiritual attraction.

sexual orientation – ( noun ) the type of sexual, romantic, emotional/spiritual attraction one has the capacity to feel for some others, generally labeled based on the gender relationship between the person and the people they are attracted to.

skoliosexual – ( adj. ) being primarily attracted to some genderqueer, transgender, and/or non-binary people.

spiritual attraction – ( noun ) a capacity that evokes the want to engage in intimate behavior based on one’s experience with, interpretation of, or belief in the supernatural (e.g., religious teachings, messages from a deity), experienced in varying degrees (from little-to-none, to intense). Often conflated with sexual attraction, romantic attraction, and/or emotional attraction.

stealth – ( adj. ) a transgender person who is not “out” as transgender, and is perceived/known by others as cisgender.

straight – ( adj. ) a person primarily attracted to people who are not their same sex/gender.

third gender – ( noun ) a gender category that is used by societies that recognise three or more genders. A conceptual term meaning different things to different people who use it, as a way to move beyond the gender binary.

top surgery – ( noun ) this term refers to surgery for the construction of a male-type chest or breast augmentation for a female-type chest.

transgender – ( adj. ) an umbrella term for anyone whose sex assigned at birth and gender identity do not correspond (e.g., someone who was assigned male at birth, but does not identify as a man).

transitioning – ( verb ) the process of a transgender person changing aspects of themself (e.g., their appearance, name, pronouns, or making physical changes to their body) to be more congruent with their gender identity

transphobia – ( noun ) the fear of, discrimination against, or hatred of people who are transgender, the transgender community, or gender ambiguity. Transphobia can be seen within the queer community, as well as in general society.;

two-spirit – ( noun ) a term within Native American communities to recognize individuals who possess qualities or fulfill roles of both genders. This term is often conflated with sexuality, but was historically about gender identity.

ze / zir – ( pronoun ) pronouns that are gender neutral and preferred by some transgender people. They replace “he” and “she” and “his” and “hers” respectively.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

A Beginner’s Guide to Going Gay

By Tom Rasmussen

As your least favorite brand has likely reminded you in an emoji-filled mailer that you just can’t seem to unsubscribe from, it’s Pride month again. And so begins the annual wheel of discourse: Should Pride be a party or a protest? Has it been co-opted by big brands? Is the rainbow actually ugly? Should the police be banned from marching at Pride? Yes, yes, yes, yes.

But ladies, I’m tired of the wheel. It’s been a hard 30 years for me as a non-binary homosexual on this cis, straight planet. And so for this year’s Pride, as a treat to myself, I’ve decided I’m taking some time off. I’m done with waiting at the doors of big companies who are desperately trying not to get canceled, and asking for inclusion with big puppy dog eyes. I’m tired of writing explainers on how to be a good ally to a trans person. (For that, read Shon Faye.) And no, I don’t want a credit card with two men kissing on it. I don’t need a drink that is pink! Why is this sidewalk painted rainbow?!

Yes, I’ve decided for this Pride month I’m finally going to be really honest—really, really honest—about what we LGBTQs get up to all year round when our image isn’t being co-opted by a smoothie company. Because when you aren’t looking, we gays are plotting and planning the Gay Agenda. The Gay Agenda which, to terrify all of my loyal conservative fans, always has been and always will be about making as many people gay as possible. Queer as possible. Trans as possible. And so this Pride month, as your agony aunt here at Vogue, I am here to deliver to you the LGBTQ+ message: I’m here to tell you that it’s time to go gay.

Everyone’s doing it. Chrishell from Selling Sunset did it; your ex-best friend’s mum from high school did it; loads of celebs who can’t be named did it; hey, you probably already did it in college. And while I’m aware it’s not a choice, let me tell you, if it was, I’d choose it! It’s way more fun, and way more flirty, than straight life.

Here in LGBTQ+ Town, we get to party until we’re in our mid-sixties, at which point we’re held up as community icons. We get to wear leather without looking try-hard, we get to watch unhinged drag queens fall over in dive bars, and we get to holiday in homes in Tangier owned by “interior decoration gays.” We’re statistically more likely to be chic and fashionable (although some gay men seem to want to actively exclude themselves from this one) and people—literally, like, everyone—are desperate for our approval. We have more sex than our straight counterparts, we are better at everything than our heterosexual peers (there are no stats on this, but it’s true), and we get to say things like “J’adore” and mean it both ironically and unironically.

We have the best literature, from Giovanni’s Room to Detransition, Baby. The best film and theater, from Pink Flamingos to A Strange Loop. The best fashion, from Thierry Mugler to Telfar. The best art too, from the Sistine Chapel to Leigh Bowery. What do the straights have? Chinos and golf tournaments? Marriage and a Volvo? Yep, you got it—being gay is better. It’s chicer. It’s hotter. So what are you waiting for?

A note on how you’re likely to be viewed after doing so. The people around you are no longer strangers, commuters, or fellow diners at Chinese Tuxedo. No. As part of the LGBTQ+ community, you will be forced into visibility. Sometimes you’ll like it, sometimes you’ll hate it. A healthy way to deal with this, though—which my therapist has strongly advised against—is to start calling those around you your “audience.” “Fans” also works, but the truth is that audience implies a much more generous, symbiotic, artistic relationship between you and this woman who is staring at you at the crosswalk.

It’s also time to get really good at sex. Alas, I don’t make the rules. But if there is one thing that unites every LGBTQ+ person I know, it’s that we are good at sex. You don’t have to be kinky—although you can also be as kinky as they come—but we are frankly superior in bed. After all, why go through all of the boring drama of coming out and detailing exactly how you’re going to have sex to your own mother if you’re not going to actually be good at it? It’s time to transcend the dynamic of the jackrabbit and the wet flannel. You are a sex phoenix, and you’re rising from the ashes.

A note on coming out. Everyone—well, a lot of brands—will tell you you have to come out. But you don’t. Screw it. You don’t owe explaining yourself to anyone. Of course, try not to stay too repressed and then let those bottled-up feelings turn you into a psychopathic murderer, or perhaps worse, very very homophobic, but your sexuality and gender are all yours. Come out to who you want. Don’t come out to who you don’t want.

Finally, don’t be mean. We all go through a phase of feeling really pissed off with the world for making it harder for us—and so we wake up every day and heave on our suit of bitchy armor and slag off everyone around us and make it a bit. And sure, people love it, but eventually, they’ll wonder if you talk about them behind their backs too, and in the end, it won’t make you happy. Instead, engage with your community—go to the gay bar, read about queer history, or host a book brunch for you and the girlies.

That’s right, these days, you can literally have it all. (Even children!) But first, you have to simply take the plunge this Pride month: Get in loser, we’re going gay.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

The Gay Asian Activist Whose Theories on Sexuality Were Decades Ahead of Their Time

In the 1930s, Li Shiu Tong’s boyfriend, Magnus Hirschfeld, was a prominent defender of gay people. But Li’s own research has long been overlooked

Li Shiu Tong and Magnus Hirschfeld at the 1932 conference for the World League for Sexual Reform

By Nation World News Desk

Historians are rediscovering one of the most important LGBTQ activists of the early 20th century—an Asian Canadian named Li Shiu Tong. You probably don’t know the name, but he was at the center of the first wave of gay politics.

Much has been written about Li’s older boyfriend, Magnus Hirschfeld. He was a closeted German doctor and sexologist who became famous in the 1930s as a defender of gay people. In books on Hirschfeld, Li is usually just a footnote.

But as I found in my research, Li was a sexologist and activist in his own right. And in my view, his ideas about sexuality speak to our moment better than his much more well-known boyfriend’s do.

When Li died in Vancouver in 1993, his unpublished manuscript about sexuality was thrown in the trash. Luckily, it was rescued by a curious neighbor and eventually ended up in an archive. Since then, only a handful of people, myself included, have read it.

In its pages is a theory of LGBTQ people as the majority that would resonate with a lot of young people today.

Student and mentor

Born in 1907 in Hong Kong, Li was a 24-year-old studying medicine at a university in Shanghai when he met Hirschfeld. Then 63 years old, Hirschfeld had come to China to give public lectures about the science of sex. The year was 1931.

The Shanghai newspapers billed Hirschfeld as the world’s foremost expert on sexuality. Li must have seen the papers, because he made sure to catch Hirschfeld’s very first lecture. In medical school, Li had read all he could about homosexuality, then a very controversial topic. He had often encountered Hirschfeld’s name, and he knew his reputation as a defender of homosexuals. Whether he suspected that the famous sexologist was gay is a mystery. Almost no one in the 1930s could afford to be out—the revelation would have destroyed either man’s career.

Magnus Hirschfeld and Li Shiu Tong on the cover of a 1933 issue of a French magazine
Magnus Hirschfeld and Li Shiu Tong on the cover of a 1933 issue of a French magazine

The lecture that afternoon was hosted by a Chinese feminist club at a fancy, modern apartment building. When Hirschfeld finished speaking, Li came up and introduced himself. He offered to be his assistant. It was the beginning of a relationship that would profoundly shape gay history, as well as the rest of both of their lives.

With Li by his side, Hirschfeld spoke all over China. Li then accompanied Hirschfeld on a lecture tour around the world, traveling first class on ships to Indonesia, the Philippines, South Asia, Egypt and beyond.

In his lectures, Hirschfeld explained his influential model of homosexuality: It was a character trait that people were born with, a part of their nature. It was neither an illness nor a sin, and the persecution of homosexuality was unjust. He gave 178 lectures, plus radio interviews. His ideas reached hundreds of thousands of people.

This was the first time in world history that anyone told so many people that being gay was not a bad thing and was, in fact, an inborn and natural condition.

A love affair and professional collaboration

On the world tour, the two fell in love, though to everyone else, they passed as teacher and student. Hirschfeld decided to make Li his successor. The plan was for Li to return to Berlin with him, train at his Institute for Sexual Science and carry on his research after his death.

Their shared dream was not to be. When they reached Europe, Hirschfeld realized he could never go back to his home in Berlin. Adolf Hitler was chancellor. The Nazis were after Hirschfeld because he was Jewish and because of his left-wing views on sexuality. He went into exile in France.

Li stayed by his side and helped him write a memoir of their travels. It is a stunning departure from Hirschfeld’s earlier work, which trades in racist thinking—containing, for example, the claim that Black Americans had stunted brains.

Nazis select books for burning at the Magnus Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Science in Berlin.
Nazis select books for burning at the Magnus Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Science in Berlin.

In the book he wrote with Li’s help, a different Hirschfeld emerges. The text denounces imperialism—for example, calling British rule in South Asia “one of the greatest political injustices in all of the world.” Hirschfeld even saw a link between gay rights and the struggle against imperialism: Both grew out of an undeniable human yearning for freedom.

After Hirschfeld died in France in 1935, his will named Li, then a student at the University of Zurich, his intellectual heir.

Hirschfeld was the most famous defender of gay people the world had yet known. But when Li died in Vancouver in 1993, it seems no one realized his connection to gay rights.

Li’s vision of sexuality reemerges

Yet Li’s rediscovered manuscript shows he did become a sexologist, even though he never published his findings.

In his manuscript, Li tells how after Hirschfeld died, he spent decades traveling the world, carrying on the research and taking detailed notes while living in Zurich, Hong Kong and then Vancouver.

The data he gathered would have startled Hirschfeld. Forty percent of people were bisexual, he wrote, 20 percent were homosexual and only 30 percent percent were heterosexual. (The last 10 percent were “other.”) Being trans was an important, beneficial part of the human experience, he added.

Hirschfeld thought bisexuals were scarce and that even homosexuals were only a minor slice of the population—a “sexual minority.” To Li, bisexuals plus homosexuals were the majority. It was lifelong heterosexuals who were rare—so rare, he wrote, that they “should be classified as an endangered species.” Li found same-sex desire to be even more common than had sexologist Alfred Kinsey, whose studies identified widespread bisexuality.

L to R: Bernhard Schapiro, Magnus Hirschfeld and Li Shiu Tong, circa 1930
L to R: Bernhard Schapiro, Magnus Hirschfeld and Li Shiu Tong, circa 1930

Recent polling finds LGBTQ-identifying people at lower percentages, but it also points to the numbers rising. According to a Feburary 2022 Gallup poll, they’ve doubled over the last ten years. That same poll found that almost 21 percent of Gen Z Americans (people born between 1997 and 2003) identify as LGBTQ.

Some critics have suggested that these numbers reflect a fad. That’s the explanation given by the pollster whose very small survey found that about 40 percent of Gen Z respondents were LGBTQ.

Li’s vision conveys a more likely explanation: Same-sex desire is a very common part of human experience across history. Like Hirschfeld argued, it is natural. Unlike what he thought, however, it is not unusual. When Li was a young man in the 1930s, there was a very strong pressure not to act on same-sex desires. As that pressure lessened across the 20th century, more and more people seem to have embraced LGBTQ identities.

Why didn’t Li publish his work? I’m not sure. Perhaps he hesitated because his findings were so different from his mentor’s. In my book, I investigate another possibility: how the racism in Hirschfeld’s earlier work may have dissuaded Li from carrying on his legacy.

Yet Li’s theory was ahead of his time. A queer Asian Canadian at the heart of early gay politics, a sexologist with an expansive view of queerness and transness, he is a gay hero worth rediscovering.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Student banned from saying ‘gay’ cleverly uses ‘curly hair’ as metaphor to talk about his sexual orientation

Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality. Zander had to adhere to restrictons because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.

The curly hair metaphor that everyone loved

A college student banned from using the word ‘gay‘ at his graduation speech used a clever metaphor to speak about his sexual orientation.

Zander Moricz, Florida class president of Pine View, talked about his ‘curly hair’ in a heartfelt speech and used it as an analogy for his sexuality.

Zander had to adhere to restrictions because of Florida’s controversial ‘Don’t Say Gay’ laws in schools.

So as the high school graduate began his speech, he replaced gay with ‘curly hai’. By doing so, he left audiences in awe and also drew worldwide attention to his activism for the LGBTQIA+ community.

“I must discuss a very public part of my identity. This characteristic has probably become the first thing you think of me as a human being. As you know, I have curly hair,” said Zander, while speaking at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall

The clip showing his speech has now collected over 8.4 million views on Twitter.

The teenager even removed his mortarboard cap and unveiled his curly hair to the audience.
“I used to hate my curls. I spent mornings and nights embarrassed of them, trying to desperately straighten this part of who I am. But the daily damage of trying to fix myself became too much to endure,” he said.

He further added: “So while having curly hair in Florida is difficult, due to the humidity, I decided to be proud of who I was and started coming to school as my authentic self.”

Staying on the metaphor, Zander went on to say the growth of his ‘hair’ was a messy process but he came out well due to the support of his friends and teachers.

He ended his speech by saying it was important for him to speak up about his curly hair and other curly-haired students who are adjusting to ‘Florida’s humidity’.

The moving speech comes a few months after the controversial ‘Do Say Gay’ bill was signed and passed by the state. The bill prevents the teaching of sexual orientation and gender identity from pre-school to third grade.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Animal sexuality may not be as binary as we’re led to believe, according to new book

NPR’s Sacha Pfeiffer talks with Eliot Schrefer, author of Queer Ducks (And Other Animals): The Natural World of Animal Sexuality. It’s about how “natural sex” may not be as binary as some think.

SACHA PFEIFFER, HOST:

At its worst, a nonfiction science book about animal sexuality could read like a dry biology textbook. But that’s not the kind of book Eliot Schrefer wrote. His book, called “Queer Ducks (And Other Animals): The Natural World Of Animal Sexuality,” is designed to be teenager-friendly, for one thing. It’s a young adult book filled with comics and humor and accessible science, and it’s filled with research on the diversity of sexual behavior in the animal world. Eliot Schrefer is with us to explain more. Welcome, Eliot.

ELIOT SCHREFER: Hi. I’m really happy to be here.

PFEIFFER: We’re glad to have you. I really liked the way you structured your book. It’s basically an animal per chapter, in a way. But you also have these wonderful illustrations. You have interviews with scientists. Tell us a little bit about how you decided to make it accessible because, again, you’re aiming for adolescents, as I understand it, in a nonfiction way, and they might be inclined to think nonfiction equals boring, dry textbook.

SCHREFER: Right. I sort of imagine, like, we’re kind of sitting in the science classroom, passing notes back and forth, and it even comes down to the doodles. There’s an artist, Jules Zuckerberg, who did a one-page comic for each of the animal species that we discuss. So it’s – the premise is that it’s an animal GSA.

PFEIFFER: A gender sexuality alliance meeting.

SCHREFER: That’s right. And so they’re each taking a turn introducing themselves. And so the bonobo takes a turn introducing how her family works, and then the doodlebug and the dolphin and so on.

PFEIFFER: Yeah, they’re really great. They make the book really accessible. As we said, every chapter basically tackles an animal and something about the sexuality of that animal. Do you have a favorite or one of your favorites that you could tell us about?

SCHREFER: Sure. Well, the hard part starting to write this book was figuring out which animals to focus on. The bonobos are famously promiscuous, and the majority of their sexual activity is between females. So I knew they had to be in there, is an early chapter.

PFEIFFER: What’s funny – well, what’s interesting about these animals are they – as you said, they’re very promiscuous. I mean, there’s almost this orgy-like way about how they behave sometimes.

SCHREFER: Yes, and what was so interesting in the early studies about bonobos – they’re really fairly new to science. We used to call them pygmy chimpanzees and just thought they were small chimps and that was it. And it wasn’t until the ’90s and the 2000s that we started really studying them. And sex, in particular same-sex sexual activity in bonobos, is a way to avoid conflict and to smooth over feelings after a conflict.

There was a really fascinating study where they gave honey, which is a really desirable food source, to a group of bonobos and to a group of chimpanzees and saw how they reacted differently. And chimpanzees, the strongest males grabbed the food source and handed it out to their allies. And then in the bonobos, they all circled the honey, and none of them touched it. And they all got very, very anxious about how this food was going to be split up. And then rather than starting eating, they started an orgy. They just all started having sex. And this is between males and males, males and females and females and females. And then once they were blissed out and calm, that’s when they started to eat this food. And chimps and bonobos are tied as our closest relative, so it’s a great metaphor for the two ways that we can also look at human nature.

PFEIFFER: There’s also a chapter that I found interesting about bulls. And a lot of bulls are used for breeding. They’re used to inseminate females. And sometimes, the bulls have to kind of get in the mood. The handlers help them get in the mood. And what’s interesting is they often bring in other males to do that, and it’s effective. And I thought that was very interesting. Tell us why you chose that example.

SCHREFER: Bovids are – have one of the largest percentages of same-sex sexual behavior within their populations. And it’s long been the ace card in the hand of cattle breeders to bring out a steer to get a bull excited in order to perform sexually. And in fact, there was one of the foremost sheep researchers, Valerius Geist, who studied bighorn sheep in the 1960s – he was in the wild observing these bighorns and saw that they basically live in entirely homosexual society until the age of 6 or 7. The males are off by themselves having frequent intercourse. And he didn’t publish on it. He wrote about this in his memoir years later because he couldn’t tolerate the idea that these – what he – quote, “magnificent beasts were queers.” And so he resisted publishing on that.

PFEIFFER: We mention that the book includes interviews you’ve done with scientists, these little question and answer exchanges. I really like those. They not only added to the science of the book, but it was interesting that these types of professionals exist. Could you tell us about one that you think is most noteworthy?

SCHREFER: Sure. I wanted to expand kids’ impression of who gets to do science, with gets in quotes there – that it’s not just old guys in white coats, right? There’s an upswell of young scientists who are doing some wonderful work around queer behavior and queer identities in animals.

So one person I spoke to was an ecologist who has transitioned genders, has – is still actively figuring out their place within the broader world and looked forward so much to the days when they could be just with their binoculars in the fields, mud up to their ankles, just staring at moose because at that moment, all these – the complicated navigation of all these identities just dropped away, and they were just part of nature. Like, they didn’t have to explain themselves to the animals, and the animals had no concept of judging or shaming anyone for the choices that they were making around their gender identity. And I found that so moving that there is some – there’s a peace to be found and a simplicity and an acceptance, a radical acceptance within nature.

PFEIFFER: Eliot, you’ve written in your book that you are well aware – these are your words – well aware that this book is bound to be controversial. But on the other hand, you also seem to be trying to assure young people out there that this is not controversial at all. It’s actually quite common in the animal world. Is that part of the message you’re trying to send?

SCHREFER: Yeah. I think there’s – you know, some people will say, well, there’s all sorts of things that animals do that humans oughtn’t to be doing – right? – that we shouldn’t cannibalize our partners after we have sex with them, that we shouldn’t be living on webs out in the wild, and that we can’t just cherry-pick which animal examples we choose to use. But that’s really getting the argument of the book backwards. I’m not trying to argue for human behaviors from certain – the ways that animals can behave. Instead, I’m trying to say that we can no longer argue that humans are alone in their queerness or in their LGBTQ identities – that instead, we are part of a millions of year tradition within the animal world of a varieties of approaches to sex and a ton of advantages that come around from it.

PFEIFFER: Eliot, you’ve written and you’ve said that you wished you had known this when you were younger. If you had known it, how do you think it would have changed how you felt about yourself?

SCHREFER: I think there’s a loneliness to human queerness, that there is this idea that it is something that happened recently to this species and that we are alone in it, and that queer people can find each other and find community with each other, and that that is the goal that they can – they should hope for when we are heavily integrated into the natural world. And that is the part of the message that I think is lost, and that LGBTQ behaviors and identities are absolutely natural.

PFEIFFER: That’s Eliot Schrefer. His new book is “Queer Ducks (And Other Animals).” Eliot, thank you.

SCHREFER: Thank you so much for having me.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Laws of Attraction

— Omnisexual vs. Pansexual

Both forms of sexual identity involve being attracted to people of all genders, but they differ when it comes to having individual preference.

by Nicky Cade

When figuring out something as complex as sexuality, it might seem like there are more labels than there are in your local supermarket. You may also feel that it’s difficult to find just one that 100 percent fits you, which is totally fine, by the way.

Two of the identities that people might need more clarity on are “omnisexual” and “pansexual.”

At first glance, they may seem the same. You can define pansexuality as having a romantic, emotional, or sexual attraction to people, regardless of their genders. But omnisexuality can involve having a romantic, emotional, or sexual attraction to people of all genders. The distinction is slight, but it’s there.

Don’t worry if you didn’t spot it right away, though. We’ll explain their similarities, differences, and what they both mean in the context of relationships.

OK, before we delve into the specifics of pansexuality and omnisexuality, we need to discuss the concept of gender blindness. Try not to skip: This is what’s going to help you work out the differences!

You might’ve heard the term “gender blindness” used in a negative sense. Like “color blind” in terms of race, some people may use it as a refusal to acknowledge that some groups experience oppression or privilege because of their genders.

Some pansexuals call themselves “gender blind” in a neutral way, meaning that a person’s sex or gender doesn’t factor into their attraction for them. They can be attracted to someone whether they’re male, female, trans, intersex, nonbinary, etc. So, they use “gender blind” in the nonexclusionary sense, in that gender simply isn’t an issue.

However, other pansexuals might be uncomfortable with the term, feeling that it may invalidate someone’s identity, especially trans people who may have gone through a lot of hard work to be recognized as their genders. These pansexuals may prefer to say that they have no gender preference.

Whether you use the term “gender blindness” or not, and it’s good to be aware that some people aren’t comfy with it, you get the gist — it’s about not limiting your attractions by gender.

The prefix, “pan” means all, every, whole, and all-inclusive. The “pan” in pansexual means you’re attracted to someone without consideration for their gender, aka, you’re gender blind or have no gender preference. This doesn’t mean you’re invalidating someone’s gender in any way — but it just isn’t a factor in your level of attraction to them.

“Pansexual” is a relatively young term that didn’t really get used a whole lot until the mid-2010s, when it was put under the bisexual umbrella. But now, pansexuals proudly walk on their own, represented by a pink, yellow, and blue flag, which stands for attraction to all identities.

Sometimes, people can easily misinterpret pansexuality, which can create negative stereotypes and discourage people from owning their sexualities. Some mistakenly believe that the “all” part of the distinction means that pansexuals are up for getting down with anyone, all the time — and that simply isn’t true.

Others see pansexuality as an open invitation for sexual activity, and that it lessens any need for consent — nope, nope, a thousand times nope. Just like all forms of sexuality, pansexuality is a specific form of openness that the individual wholly owns and manages, not anyone else.

Want to show your pansexual pride? May 24 is Pansexual Visibility Day, with National Pansexual Pride Day on December 8.

The prefix “omni” means all, everywhere, or all-encompassing. Similar to “pansexual,” “omnisexual” means you can have an attraction to all genders — except, in this case, you do consider sex and gender to a certain extent, aka, you’re not gender blind.

If you’re omnisexual, you might have a slight gender preference when it comes to attraction, but not a specific gender requirement. So, the gender of the person you’re attracted to matters, but it’s not a determining factor.

“Omnisexual” is another fairly new term, which a lot of people might not be super familiar with, and that can lead to its own problems. For instance, both pansexuals and omnisexuals often might have to put up with the perception of being hypersexual and all the issues that come with that, such as erasure among others.

Because “omnisexual” isn’t yet a universally familiar term, people who do identify as such are often labelled as the more-familiar “bisexual” or “pansexual” instead, which can be hurtful.

But as time goes on, more and more people have access to the education to help them develop awareness of what the term means. There’s also an omnisexual flag, which has stripes of pink, blue-purple, and black. People recognize Omnisexual Awareness Day on March 21, and Omnisexual and Omniromantic Pride and Visibility Day is on June 6.

If you’re looking to find which identity is most true for yourself between omnisexual and pansexual, the main similarity can be straightforward: Both groups can be attracted to anyone of any gender, whether it’s in a romantic, emotional, or sexual way.

The key difference is the consideration of gender — pansexuals don’t consider it, omnisexuals do.

If it’s still a little tricky to distinguish in your head, imagine one person saying, “I love hot drinks!”, and another person saying, “I love tea, and coffee, and hot chocolate, and…” It’s not a perfect comparison, but it might help you grasp the difference a little more clearly.

And remember, everyone’s understanding of their own sexuality is just that: their own. You can define yourself however you choose, or not at all. Having a clear understanding of your feelings based on your experiences is what matters.

So, you might have a better inkling now of whether pansexuality or omnisexuality fits you better — that’s awesome! If you’re already in a relationship, or planning to be in one sometime, it’s also a good moment to think about how you’re going to be clear with them going forward.

The first thing to remember is that you don’t have to tell anyone that you’re pansexual or omnisexual if you don’t want to — you don’t owe that to anyone. But if your partner(s) is completely in the dark, or isn’t super knowledgeable about different sexualities, it can cause some issues.

Not communicating your sexual identity or preferences may cause you to become tense or unsure around your partner, which may cause them to become uncomfortable as a result. And that’s not a good foundation for any relationship.

If you do want to tell them about your sexuality, reassure them that you’re being open and honest with them because you want a stronger relationship. Explain what pansexuality or omnisexuality is, and work to clarify any misconceptions or defuse any stereotypes.

There’s no guarantee that your partner(s) will be receptive, or respond in a way that you like, but that’s on them. Being authentic and honest with yourself and with the person you care about is the priority. Care promotes authenticity, and authenticity should encourage better care.

If you don’t identify as either omnisexual or pansexual, it’s always a good thing to know what supportive language you can use. And if you’re an ally, advocate, or someone whose loved one just came out, it’s even more important!

First thing to remember is to avoid presuming anything about anyone. If someone tells you that they’re omnisexual, don’t reply with “but isn’t that just bisexual/pansexual?”. And the same goes for pansexuals — sexual identities are deeply personal, and it’s for each individual to decide which fits them best.

It’s important to avoid making jokes about being hypersexual. And for the love of pizza, almost every pansexual heard the “does this mean you’re attracted to frying pans?” joke a million times already.

Remember that being attracted to all genders doesn’t necessarily mean that a person wants to be in polyamorous relationships. Some might be in them, others might not be, same as anyone else.

As with anyone, it’s important to know pronouns, especially with pansexuals — some people will be “he/him” or “she/her,” but with gender being less of a concern, others may choose to be “they,” “ze,” or “xe.” It’s much better to ask than to keep getting it wrong.

Above all, simply respect and accept. If someone trusts you enough to share their sexual identity with you, that’s a big deal.

Although it can initially be tricky to work out the difference between pansexuality and omnisexuality, they’re both completely individual and valid forms of sexual identity, with their own acknowledgments. Gone are the days when both were simply thrown under the label “bisexual“.

What it comes down to is that omnisexuals tend to notice a potential partner’s gender more than pansexuals do. Other than that, pansexuality and omnisexuality share a love and attraction that isn’t limited by gender. Both can be truly inclusive.

Be true to yourself, and support others in their own journeys — after all, isn’t that what love is all about?

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

‘What if he finds someone better?’

— The agony and the ecstasy of an open relationship

And then there were three: ‘If we can both let each other go for an evening every now and then, the reunion feels so much sweeter.’

When Tom Rasmussen and their partner of seven years decided to have an open relationship, they knew it would be exciting and revitalising – but the danger of losing what they had was only too real

By Tom Rasmussen

My mother will kill me for writing this article. She doesn’t get why my partner and I would want to have sex with other people; why, God why, would we want to question a structure as sacred and, let’s face it, successful as monogamy? As she said, when I first mentioned I’d been on a date with someone who wasn’t my long-term partner, “Well, what if he finds someone better than you?” Brutal. Mothers really know how to find your deepest insecurity before wringing it – and you – out like a dishcloth.

She wasn’t wrong, though. What if he does find someone better than me? That was, admittedly, the first question I had when my partner and I decided to sleep with other people a year ago. Not only that, we decided it would be fine if we went on dates with other people, too: one, two, 10 – as long as we kept, as every pop psychologist whose bestseller I’ve never read will tell you, communication streams open.

The first date with someone else was mine. It was with an incredibly hot guy who I’d met at a fashion party, because I’m glamorous like that. He flirted so hard it was essentially impossible to say no. My partner and I discussed it: “Let’s just see what happens.”

Naturally I was nervous. The guy was hot. I was sweaty. It was the first date I’d been on in way over half a decade. What on earth do you talk about? I messaged a friend who is a very chic dater: “Just ask him his most problematic opinion… Honestly, it’s the best opener.” I wore black, because I always wear black, and I unbuttoned my shirt one lower than usual. I kissed my partner and my dog, Celine Dion, goodbye. And off I went.

The date was fun, the sex was wild – not better or worse, but invigorating in its difference. Kissing was, bizarrely, harder than anything else because a kiss with a stranger these days feels more intimate, and until then that intimacy had been reserved only for my partner.

When I arrived home that night after sleeping with the first person who wasn’t my boyfriend in seven years, I felt, simply, glad to climb into bed next to him. But also, perhaps, like I was beginning to undo three decades of conditioning towards monogamy. A monogamy which, until then, I’d held on to so tightly it was as likely to suffocate me, or my partner, as the worrisome potential of finding someone better.

See, the thing about our monogamous relationship was that the desire we had for others never went away. It was simply annexed in our brain, right there next to Catholicism and the bad exes. That’s not to say it was repressed. I don’t know a single person in a monogamous relationship who doesn’t flirt, have crushes, perhaps overstep the mark in someone’s DMs. A lot of people cheat, too. It’s been this way for aeons and it will be this way for aeons to come (or until the next pesky mass extinction event hits). And annexing this desire is perfectly fine, but when you simply ask the question, “But why?”, finding a solid answer becomes difficult.

The day after I’d consummated our open relationship, we packed a bag and drove to the countryside for a friend’s baby’s christening. The atmosphere in the car as we drove out of London was one of deep, icy tension. We could not seem to find the right song to narrate the moment, for the whole 90-minute trip, until I burst and said: “OK, we fucked!”

We decided there and then, on the A419 on the way to celebrate the choices of some dear friends who had done what they were supposed to do and moved to the countryside to raise their perfect child, that this open thing was a terrible idea.

My partner is the love of my life. Something – perhaps the only thing, except that blondes really do have more fun – I feel sure of. A climate crisis brings daily anxiety, the newspapers are littered with transphobia, the government goes beyond incompetence to arrive somewhere between casual cruelty and calculated fascism. And on days where it feels as if there is very little to live for, just looking at him still reminds me that there is something so good in the world. Something with meaning.

See I am, and always have been, a sucker for love, romance and utter dedication – a paradox with my ever-intensifying queer politic. For a long time, it was me who had a desperate stake in our monogamy. I am the kind of person who people describe as “so attractive” but, because of my hairy belly and flagrant femininity, it’s often followed by: “I’m always attracted to people over bodies.” Well, good for you. But for me, attraction has always found me in spite of my body, not because of it. And plainly put, my boyfriend has both: charm, vigour – and abs.

‘Like every gay from a small town, I believed I was Carrie Bradshaw’: Tom Rasmussen.
‘Like every gay from a small town, I believed I was Carrie Bradshaw’: Tom Rasmussen.

Now I don’t want to be shallow: I wouldn’t want to say that the only reason I clung tightly to monogamy was because I’m a six and he’s a nine. It’s also a Catholic upbringing, every bit of culture I’ve consumed, the fact I believed I was, like every gay from a small town, Carrie Bradshaw. And I was looking for “can’t-live-without-each-other-love”, because, really, I’d never felt like I’d really been properly loved before. By anyone. Romantic or not. And so, when I built futures in my head they were monogamous. It was all I had ever seen. And I had made love, commitment and true romance all synonymous with monogamy.

At the christening we barely spoke. On the outside we were still the perfect gay couple: cooing over the baby, congratulating our friends, telling jokes only marginally over the edge of inappropriate for a christening. And for that day, everything appeared blissfully normal. But normality can be suffocating. On the way home, in the car, we broke: “Oh my God that was so normal we can’t cope.” So we checked ourselves into a cheap hotel that night, halfway between London and the Cotswolds, got absolutely hammered and defined the rules of our new setup. And at that point, there were no rules. Just communication. And that we can stop whenever either of us wants.

The second person I had sex with approached me in a bar and described what he wanted to do to me. I’d never felt a turn-on like it. Not that I’m not turned on by my partner – because various types of desire, of turn-on, are not mutually exclusive. Desire, as I’m learning, exists on various planes, in various spaces. Herein lay a huge learning curve: in an open relationship, you begin to experience totally varied and different types of desire to the type of desire you feel in a monogamous setup. I’ve had fast sex, slow sex, hot sex, sex I regret. I’ve made love to a stranger and had feelingless sex with a good friend.

The more people we told, the more we were asked my mother’s fated question: “How do you know he won’t find someone better than you?” After pushing back, I realised this wasn’t my friends and my mother telling me I was shit and my partner could – and perhaps should – find another, better partner. It was that everyone worries about this, too, in their own relationships. We’re all terrified that we are phonies and that if someone else came along we would be exposed and left to become the Miss Havisham type we were always destined to be.

The truth is, I don’t know he won’t find someone better than me. But can you know that in a monogamous relationship either? No. In fact, the answer, after a year of making mistakes and communicating about them in ways we never did before, is that it’s liberating to accept that. It’s freeing to see the end, because in seeing the end you have a reason to keep choosing the relationship.

And to me it has become an absurd claim that it would be possible to find someone better than him. Because a partnership, a love, a life that took seven years to build cannot be torn apart by something as new and naive as lust and, at most, momentary love. They are different emotions. They both provide rich experience, but they are in no way comparable. If anything, my tendencies towards jealousy and self-doubt have simmered away somewhat – because here was our get-out clause. And we are still in.

“It’s easier for queer couples,” a heterosexual friend told me, after I told her. And I think, for countless reasons, this is true: like the fact the centre still sees our relationships as fringe; the fact that sex for a lot of queer people is a mode of finding community, touch and family; the fact that we were kept out of normative conventions of relationships until a brutally recent seven years ago. But, at the same time, there is still the same fear, the same worry, the same risk of loss. So easier feels like too easy a word. Perhaps more accepted.

Culturally, we always think about the rush of the new: those heady days when you meet your partner and every move they make drives you to distraction. Then we do the merry dance of less sex, less communication, less fun, more bills, more plans, more stress, until we die or someone leaves.

And, yes, with every new partner I’ve been lucky enough to have an experience with over this moment in our relationship, I’ve experienced the rush of the new. But the rush of the new spills over into my primary partnership, too: new dynamics form, each scenario brings with it something for us to negotiate, and our sex is more adventurous than ever: perhaps because we learned new moves elsewhere or perhaps because we have a reinvigorated sense of desire for each other knowing that someone, elsewhere, has found this body in front of you desirable in new ways, too.

Our open relationship wasn’t born out of a lack of sex. Don’t worry, we’ve had that phase and we really did consider going open. But we decided then that if we were ever to do it, it couldn’t come from a place of trying to cure a wound, or fill a gap. That’s when the primary partnership ends. In fact, we’d only recently talked about getting married and then we decided to try the idea that non-monogamy might be an even more immense, powerful commitment to each other than a ring and a register.

How could that be possible? How could sleeping with other people be more of a commitment than marriage? Because in sleeping with others you are allowing your partner a deeper expression of their desires. Marriage is fantastic in many ways, but it is also a means of state control – one which produces couples who care for each other, and children who will become workers. But in the case of openness, I am committing to the fullness of his desires and mine, and the risks that come with expressing them. Commitment is another word I had got wrong, too. I always equated it with sacrifice, but I’m coming to learn it means a willingness to understand the changes in a person, to understand their fullness.

Of course, there are hard parts. With certain aspects – silly insecurities, double standards, needing to know every detail – you have to take on the individual responsibility of self-management of (some of) your own emotions. You have to accept that sometimes you are going to feel strange things and that your partner cannot be responsible for curing them. Or even always listening to them if they are unfair and unfounded. I’d been on multiple dates with someone, and felt deep worry when he told me he was going on a second. This was a feeling I had to– with the help of generous friends – self-manage. And lo and behold, he came home after what he described as an “impossibly average” date.

Something I’ve come to learn, something necessary for the success of truly any relationship, is that love is not control. Monogamy, too, is not control – and this is not my accusation. Because whether monogamous, open, polyamorous, the terms of the relationship should be agreed upon by each person within it, mutually, and not simply put there because it’s what – literally – the Bible says. I have radical queer friends who adore monogamy. I’ve met viscerally dull couples who are radically polyamorous. There’s no rhyme or reason for who it fits.

But the point is that non-monogamy is actually about care. It’s about seeing your partner, and yourself, as someone separate to you who has desires, feelings, emotions that they want to, and should be able to, share with other people – not just you. For us, at least, it’s created a dynamic of tantalising flux: one where sometimes you feel lonely, sometimes you feel powerful, sometimes you feel more in love than ever. But in understanding these dynamics that whirl around inside, and between, us both it feels more likely than ever that neither of us will find a better partner. Because if we can learn with empathy, compassion and selflessness to understand each other in what is deemed such a testing situation; if we can both let each other go for an evening every now and then, the reunion feels so much sweeter. Because you come home to someone who is committing to work hard to see you, to make space in their complicated emotional life for yours. And vice versa. That feels like more commitment, more love, than anything I’ve experienced before.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

Posted on

Why does researching bisexuality matter?

Throwing all non-heterosexual people into one bucket means not all the letters of the rainbow alphabet have been able to shine.

By

The number of people who identify as queer in the UK Census has increased over the past few years. This trend is in particular driven by the rising number of LGBT+ identities among people aged 16 to 24 years. The most popular sexual identity within this emerging group is bisexual – the romantic and/or sexual attraction to more than one gender. Data from the Office for National Statistics (ONS) shows an increase from 0.7 per cent in 2015 to 1.1 per cent in 2019. Rather than a sudden new surge of bisexual desires, increased acceptance, legal protection and visibility are likely to be the cause of this increase.

But why should we count how many people are bi, or study what their experiences are? Research is young in this field, but we’re already seeing that tossing all queer identities into one research bucket renders the unique struggles of being bisexual invisible. For a start, it’s hard to even get an accurate sense of the exact number of British people who are bisexual. Many people who are attracted to people beyond one gender, shy away from the identity label ‘bisexual’. When it comes to research, this reluctance has led scientists to come up with alternative ways to capture and categorise sexuality.

One of the most common tools used is The Kinsey Scale. First published in 1948 by biologist Dr Alfred Kinsey, it is used to place people on a spectrum of sexual attraction between entirely heterosexual and entirely homosexual, using a scale from 0 to 6. It also includes ‘X’ for those who are asexual. It was so successful that it is still the single most popular scale for classifying sexuality. It’s often what people are indirectly referring to when they say, “Aren’t we all a bit bi?”

When YouGov surveys conducted in 2019 used questions that mimicked The Kinsey Scale, researchers found at least a third of people aged 18 to 24 say that they are attracted to multiple genders. A startling figure compared to the 1 per cent reporting to the ONS. Only with research can we cut through the reluctance people have to say “I am bisexual”, and find out whether those attracted to multiple genders need more support than those who aren’t.

Since social scientists and other researchers have started to analyse the B, we have begun to understand the struggles that uniquely endanger bi people. Research shows us that bi women are hypersexualised, and stereotypes that see bi women as promiscuous sexual playthings feed into people’s existing rape myths.

Accordingly, studies have found that bisexual women are significantly more likely to be raped, repeatedly sexually assaulted, and to be the victims of intimate partner abuse than lesbian and heterosexual women. Had this research homogenised all women into one group, we might never have known that the stereotypes affecting bi women specifically place them at far greater risk of sexual victimisation.

Man holding bisexual flag

A different cluster of toxic assumptions awaits bi men. Bisexual men are seen as lying, to themselves and others, because they are thought to be gay. And, particularly in the 1980s and 1990s, bi men were also seen as murderers in disguise, catching AIDS when having sex with men and giving it their female partners. This left many bisexual men isolated and alone, failed by educational campaigns that rarely moved beyond gay spaces.

We need to acknowledge the unique needs of bi people, including a specific focus on bi men. If we don’t, we fail a huge amount of the population. Armed with bi-specific research, we stand a better chance of winning the fight back against the societal biases and misconceptions that hold bisexual people down.

As a young researcher, I didn’t know anyone else who was bisexual in my field, or, for that matter, in any field. It was rarely mentioned, not even in lectures specifically on sex and sexuality. When I graduated with my PhD in 2012, I had no idea how useful my background in criminal psychology would come to be when I turned my gaze to studying bisexuality. For my new book, Bi: The Hidden Culture, History And Science Of Bisexuality, I have found and spoken to researchers across the globe and in various disciplines who are all fighting for change.

I want the world to be a safer place for people like me. The best way that we can achieve that is to visibly support bi people. Let’s not allow the ‘B’ slip into the shadows of its colourful siblings.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!