Familial Equilibrium

This post is going to be more of a story than my previous posts, so bear with me if it’s a little boring. I’m not very good at emotional revelations, but enough avoiding the point, time (as the wise Graham Chapman always said) to “get on with it”.

I was one of the people that was always out of the closet. In fact, until my senior year of high school I wasn’t even aware that there was a closet to come out of. Once I had settled my own mind on the matter (enough to be sure that I was in fact bisexual and not just a bit curious), I decided that I had to tell my parents. Of course I knew that this was technically not my responsibility to share if I didn’t want to, but my parents and I have a very open relationship so I really wanted to tell them. Also I kind of assumed that they would provide a solid support base for me as they had always told me that they would love me no matter what.

Well, as you may be gathering, it didn’t exactly go like that. My mother was a bit confused at first and had no idea what to say, which even though it was pretty awkward was pretty understandable. My father’s reaction, though it wasn’t explicitly negative, was not at all supportive. In the couple of weeks after I came out he expressed various concerns to me and told me a number of things that nobody who is trying to adjust to their new (and fluid) identity wants to hear.

I’m going to go through some of the main ideas and outline my issues with them, though it might seem a bit obvious:

“I’m worried about you coming out in college. It’s a place to reinvent yourself and I don’t want you to get labeled as the queer kid.”

Ok, yeah of course college is a place to reinvent yourself, but what if that reinvention is partly that I want to finally be myself? What if I want to be open about all parts of who I am, instead of hiding and repressing myself? And finally, I AM a queer kid. As my father I hoped that he would support me being myself. Oh, and as a follow up to this, he told me he wanted me to “really think about” whether I want to be a part of LGBT life here at Duke. I did, and you can see what I decided.

“Being openly LGBT could really ruin your job prospects.”

This one’s pretty simple. I know that. Also, I’m just entering college. I don’t need to hear about the various ways that who I am could ruin my life. Finally, I’m really not interested in working for a company that isn’t cool with me being Bi.

“But you don’t even like the flamboyant gays. And they make up the majority of the gay community, so they’ll also make up most of your male dating prospects. So why even bother?”

Firstly, don’t speak for me. Sure, I’m an introvert and don’t mix terribly well with extroverts, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like them. Secondly, false false false false FALSE! “Flamboyant” gays are not the only members of the gay community, there is such a wide spectrum of people in this community that such a demeaning generalization quite ignorant and offensive. Furthermore, even if I never actually meet a man I connect with (I’m not looking for one now), why does that mean my identity is irrelevant? Which leads into the next thing, a return from my previous post:

“You aren’t biactual, you’re bicurious. I don’t have to deal with it until you actually have a boyfriend. Then I’ll believe it.”

Ok, yeah. Because I would totally expose myself like this if it were just a curiosity. I understand the desire to dodge dealing with your own homophobia, but seriously? Don’t put that on me. Especially when I’m at my most vulnerable.

(After describing something as gay and me saying something): “What? You never used to get offended when I said these things. Do I have to change the way I live for you?”

Well actually, I was always offended when you said that kind of thing, I just never said anything because at first I just thought it was part of the common slang and then I thought it would be suspicious to say things against it. Yes, I do want you to change “the way you live” because its insulting and demeaning. But if you seriously consider that a part of the way you live, you have a serious problem. Changing offensive slang is not that hard. (I know this because you have changed how you speak recently)

Ok, so now for a little caveat. About a month ago my father sent me an email to tell me that he was very sorry about what he said and he finally realized how offensive this is. Ironically he made this realization while watching “some asshole from fox news” (<-direct quote from the email) talk about how Americans don’t realize that the homosexual agenda is the most dangerous short term threat to America. He said he got angry, and then realized how I must feel hearing the same kind of thing. Then, he made the jump from this guy on fox to some of the comments he made. So he decided to be the father I remember and apologized to me. Then he asked me to set up a meeting with Janie in the center so they could talk to someone about how to be supportive to me. I have to say, since the meeting on parents weekend they have been more than supportive. They’re everything I wanted them to be in the first place.

They’ve been great since. Really open and supportive, and most importantly they are willing to discuss LGBT issues with me. I had an email conversation with my father this week about my church’s stance on the LGBT community (You like how I foreshadow future posts?), a conversation that wouldn’t have happened even two months ago. My parents have finally adopted LGBT rights as human rights, as they now have a face to put with it. Mine. Judging by some of the statements made above, you can really see how far they’ve come. I guess this is my own little it gets better story. Life sure isn’t perfect, but it’s a hell of a lot better now that I’m not worried about coming home. Yeah I wish they had reacted more positively initially, but the world just isn’t that simple. So everybody out there who is worried about coming out to the parents: It’s really your choice, but if you’re confident in who you are and are sick of hiding it, the only way to get that acceptance or at least arrangement is to just come out. It might take a while, but eventually you’ll reach a comfortable place as long as you don’t burn any bridges.

Disclaimer: I know this isn’t applicable in all circumstances, like if your parents are extremely homophobic or your relationship with them isn’t very good. In that case, I’m certainly not pressuring you to do anything that might be dangerous or you’re uncomfortable with.

Can you see me now?

I am not gay. I am a boy who is attracted to and can fall in love with girls. I know this is a somewhat strange way to begin a blog post for our lives, but it is on this point that my post hinges. So you might be thinking, “What does this have to do with LGBT issues?” Well, as an answer to this question I will also say this, I am not straight. I am a boy who is attracted and can fall in love with other boys. If this first paragraph confuses you, please read on, this post is for you.

I am a bisexual male. I feel attraction to both genders, and have the capacity to form romantic relationships with both. One of the frustrations I have that I feel is unique to bisexuality is that as a bisexual you have a tendency to be “invisible”. What I mean by this is that people generally assume that you are either straight or gay, never in between. If I’m talking about a boy I like, I’m gay. If I’m talking about a girl I like, I’m straight. I will tell you, these misconceptions are very annoying. The same problem applies to the spaces I occupy.

Back at home, I was straight. There was no question about that. Granted, I was single for most of high school, but that didn’t matter. Though I only started to discover myself in my senior year of high school, by the end of the school year this was bothering me. It didn’t really help matters that I had a girlfriend. Even after I told my parents that I was bisexual, I was still straight. My dad actually told me once, “You aren’t really bisexual. I mean, you have a girlfriend and you haven’t dated or slept with a boy. So really, you’re bicurious, not biactual.” Now spellcheck is telling me that the words “bicurious” and “biactual” are not real words. Well, that’s because they’re complete loads of (words I can’t say on this blog). The fact that I haven’t actually slept with a boy has no bearing on the attraction I feel. But I am on the edge of a tangent, and that is a post for another day.

Here at Duke I seem to have the opposite problem. Since the atmosphere here is much more accepting and queer friendly, I’ve found the strength to come out and not hide who I am. The problem is, people don’t seem to understand who I am. Though I still do have to deal with the expectation of heterosexuality, at Duke I have been mistaken for gay several times as well. I do understand how I could be a bit misleading as I have a rainbow bracelet I wear daily, I fly a rainbow flag from my window, and I spend my free time on West Campus in the LGBT Center. This doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me to be constantly misread. I mean, how does one show that they are bisexual? Short of walking up to a boy and planting a kiss on him, then turning to a girl and doing the same, how can I avoid being misinterpreted? I do wear a bisexual pride necklace, but most don’t know what it is. (For the record, it’s pink, purple and blue. Ask me about it and I’ll show you, or use the magic of the internet.)

Though these misconceptions bother me a bit, I’m generally loath to speak up about it. Though I cringe when I get lumped into the “gay” category, I don’t like to speak up for fear of being annoying. I’m generally better about speaking up when lumped into the “straight” category, but that doesn’t happen to me as much anymore. (It’s a wonder what a rainbow or two can do) Contrary to some beliefs that I’ve heard, being bi is not “half-gay”. We are a completely distinct orientation, nuanced and varied like any other. It is time that we are seen.

(I understand that I haven’t really given an idea to avoid bisexual invisibility, because I’m honestly not sure. Any ideas would make awesome comments *hint hint*.)

In which, like most physical entities, I must occupy space

I've been thinking a lot about gendered spaces lately.

This semester, I'm taking a class on women in comics. When the teacher commented on the first day that the class appeared to be all-women, I piped right up and said, "Actually, I don't identify as a woman!" It all went over well, I was pleased, and I mentally categorized the class as a neutral space.

But then, earlier this week, discussing multilayered identity, one of my classmates made the point that specific identities are often called to the forefront of self-perception based on context. "If a guy came into this room, for example," she said, "he'd probably feel a lot more aware of his gender!"

I was surprised how physical my reaction was, and how fast it happened. The classroom became a female space, and in an instant, my entire body tensed, and it felt like my fever had shot up several degrees. (I still had pneumonia at this time.) One of the other students looked directly at me, clearly expecting me to say something, but seeing the recognition in her eyes just made my throat close up. I literally couldn't breathe; it felt like my body was trying to will itself into no longer existing.

When I say I'm uncomfortable in female spaces, this is pretty much what I mean.

She didn't mean anything by it, of course, and if I'd spoken up I'm sure everyone would have agreed that the classroom wasn't really a women-only space. But it's part of a larger loss, for me; women's spaces used to be safe spaces, the places where I felt most capable of speaking up. Now, it's like going 'home' to my parents' new house in Arkansas instead of my childhood home in Kansas; I remember a sense of belonging and familiarity, but I don't feel it any more.

This is the part where I start to wallow in self-pity, because I don't feel any more comfortable in male spaces. I learned the rules of femininity very explicitly; my best friend in high school said she wouldn't want to be my friend if people kept making fun of me, so she taught me how to dress and act like a girl. It involved a duffel bag of example outfits, and more than one practice session. Nobody ever taught me the rules of being a man, so I'm always worried that there's some secret code I'm missing.

I'm not actually all that interested in following the rules of traditional manliness, since I'd much rather come up with my own queer, feminist interpretation of masculinity. I would be OK with being a too-feminine guy in a male space. But instead, I tend to feel like I am seen as an insufficiently-masculine woman, and it's even worse than being in a female space.

Put another way: when I think about entering a women's space, my womanhood doesn't 'measure up', and that's uncomfortable because it's always uncomfortable to be an outsider. But when I think about entering a men's space, I'm worried that my manhood is insufficient, and that's uncomfortable because holy fuck how can I even express how awful and scary that is?

As with all my anxieties, most of this is in my own head; I don't think I've ever had someone explicitly say to me that I don't belong in a certain space. But I've also never been successfully read as male, ever. So I prefer to dodge the question by occupying co-ed spaces as much as I possibly can.

In this way, my classmate was absolutely correct. My awareness of my gender is directly related to my context. In class, at work, or with close friends, I don't worry about fitting into a specific category, and sometimes I even enjoy being a little 'in between.' (A much cheerier blog post is pending on just this topic!) But as soon as I'm reminded that gender is apparently supposed to be a binary, I panic.

And that's where baby blog posts come from.


P.S. - Starting to wish for a neutral space of your own to explore your gender expression? Consider visiting Spectrum, a discussion group for "all individuals who do not conform to gender norms or embrace the sex they were assigned at birth, including those who identify as transgender, genderqueer, transsexual, intersex, gender questioning, or are reading this blurb and getting excited that there might be a place for you on campus." We are open to anyone who would like some support as they deal with questions of gender, with no policing, but please be aware that this group is not intended for allies. Membership is not publicised. Meeting times are on the LGBT center events page; email jess.evans@duke.edu for more information. We are especially hoping to connect with those who fall onto the feminine side of the spectrum!


And if you're an ally who just wants to know more about trans issues, as always, feel free to ask me a question here or email me any time at lawrence.evalyn@duke.edu!