October 15, 2013

Posted on by asktiggy

Dear Tiggy,

I’m a closeted, mature, bisexual man (in my 40s) who happened to meet another closeted, mature, bisexual man. We get along well and care for one another. I think I may be falling in love with him, which scares me.

Since we are both new at this, we’re still finding out things about being bisexual. We have been intimate, kissed and held one another passionately, and enjoyed ourselves. We do lots of things together including going out to dinners and movies. When we’re in the car, I will reach out and kiss him sometimes but I’ve noticed that he’s a bit reluctant to kiss back, sometimes even if we’re alone at home. He always kisses me back but he seems a little uncomfortable with it. I asked him and he said “I’m not used to kissing another guy.” I replied, “I’m not either but I enjoy kissing you.”

He says he’s still getting used to this other part of himself. As for his family, he was brought up by a verbally and physically abusive father and barely shakes hands with his brothers when he sees them after a long period. He’s never been married and is in his 40s, and is a conservative religious guy with preconceived ideas about people of different sexual orientations. He says to me, “It feels so right when I’m with you but I’m still uncomfortable about kissing another guy.”

I hate this…why would I fall for an emotionally unavailable guy? Should I just break this up before I get myself in trouble? I think I love him.

-Brook

The poor guy is suffering from a terrible case of internalized biphobia. I believe most queer people have internalized our society’s LGBT antipathy to some degree but this appears to be a tough case with possible aggravating factors including his political, religious, and family influences.

You sound like a caring, sympathetic, all-around sweet person; he’s lucky to have you. I suggest you find either a group for or a therapist who specializes in men addressing sexuality issues. You likely won’t find bi-specific help (which is a bit worrisome because others might try to convince you/him that you’re not really bi but gay) but I actually think it might be more important to find one that suits your ages and perhaps his religion.

I think you should find this therapist or group and go once before bringing it up with him. Explain to him that you’re going because you don’t want to feel conflicted around him anymore and that you just want to be happy. Tell him that you’d feel better if he went with you, but then give him a bit of time to decide whether he will or not. I believe setting it up like this is your best chance of getting him the emotional help he needs.

If he refuses to accompany you at first, go alone. Although this exercise is mostly for him, you could use a little sorting out, too, right? Perhaps you could focus on your reasons for being closeted, or on why you have fallen for someone emotionally unavailable. (The question alone shows your keen introspection. Unfortunately, the answer is so complex that I could never deduce it from just a letter.)

Don’t give up on him yet, Brook. You might love this guy. I think that trying to overcome some of your internalized biphobia together might be a watershed moment for this beautiful relationship.

 
This one goes out to Brook’s guy. Don’t let the haters get into your head.


© 2013 Tiggy Upland. Tiggy Upland reserves the right to use all submitted queries anonymously, in any medium.

July 10, 2012

Posted on by asktiggy

Dear Tiggy,

I am 20 years old and semi-closeted. I say “semi” because while there are a handful of people who know I am bi, there are also a handful of people who seem to suspect that I am a lesbian, and a few large handfuls of people who assume that I am straight and “just quirky about Charlize Theron, among other things.” I mean if they ever bothered to ask, I’d tell them, but these things don’t just come up in conversation on an everyday basis, ya know?

O.K., O.K., a lot of this is on me. I’m awkward about the labels. I wish this could be done telepathically. Anyway, I am not in school, have limited transportation options, and live in a smallish town although I am sort of close to DC –- just not close enough. There is no LGBT group in my area and I’m beginning to feel like I’m the only queer girl in my entire town. Any advice for getting out and socializing? I feel like I need a bisexual bat signal.

-Mary

Before we begin, I’d like to announce that I am forming a garage punk band called Bisexual Bat Signal. I will be the drummer. Obviously.

All right, back to you. I hate to agree, but a decent chunk of this is on you. Ask yourself: Why don’t I want people to know that I’m bi? Giving that a good think will open your eyes to why you might be sabotaging yourself.

Then, ask yourself: Why do I want people to know that I’m bi? Let your answers motivate you. Once you commit to wanting folks to know, you need to get a few of those bi buttons that only queer people understand. These include, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I took both,” “It’s the chemistry, not the plumbing,” and, of course, “It’s not a phase, it’s my life.” There’s your bat signal. Please be prepared, though, for straight friends to ask about them, too.

You say there are no LGBT groups anywhere near you…yeah, I’m not convinced. A quick Google search turns up many queer community groups in Virginia and Maryland. (As always, check BiNet’s map first for bi groups across the country.) Beyond that, you can find local LGBT groups in Unitarian Universalist churches, on MeetUp.com, through volunteer opportunities –- the list goes on. Look harder.

As for dating, the absolute best thing you can do is optimize your transportation situation. When you don’t live in a city but you want to socialize with other queers, you need a car. If you can’t afford one, cut off your cable TV or take an additional part-time job. I’m serious –- this is social life or death. Remember that most of the people you’ll meet through online dating will live in DC and just about all of them will expect you to meet them in the city.

The bottom line is that you’re going to have to put the effort into finding queer community. It’s out there but it’s not going to fall into your lap. In the immortal words of the great RuPaul, you betta WORK.

© 2012 Tiggy Upland. Tiggy Upland reserves the right to use all submitted queries anonymously, in any medium.

March 6, 2012

Posted on by asktiggy

Dear Tiggy,

I am a 30-something bisexual lady who has been happily married to a dude for five years. I feel pretty invisible to the community sometimes, but I know who I am what I’m about and I no longer need to shout it from the rooftops anymore. I’m very happy, if a little lonely in the queerness.

I have always been out and proud (including to my family) and I think I mostly lesbian-identified for a long time. I’ve always appreciated that the people who cared most about me never batted an eye when I told them I was dating and later marrying a guy.

Recently I have had a couple of “Facebook reunions” with (straight) guys I was friends with back in the gay days. Both of them needed to have the “I thought you were gay” talk with me. For one of them, I suspect it was the only reason he made the effort to get together. I felt awkward having to explain that I was always bi, and the whole spectrum of sexuality and how it’s fluid, blah blah blah to these otherwise really hip, accepting dudes. I suspect both of them of having been interested in being more than friends in the past. They both had that “If I had known…” kind of tone. We were also friends enough that they were comfortable asking me directly about this. Blessing or curse? I don’t know.

Anyway, I swear if I never have the “I thought you were gay” conversation again as long as I live, it will be too soon. I can’t help wondering if these dudes (and it’s only ever been straight guys) would go to the same lengths to have the same conversation with someone they always thought was straight who then married someone of the same sex. Is this a double standard? Am I over-reacting? How should I handle these questions in the future? Neither of these guys is a bad or homophobic person. I just feel like I’m back in that teenagery place of feeling like I have to explain the mechanics of my attractions or somehow justify them. Help!

—Roxy’s Paw

You bring up an interesting point: no, I don’t think they would make as big a deal over a presumed straight friend who married someone of the same sex. But that’s because they would figure the friend to have been closeted, whereas no one expects a person they believe to be gay to actually be a closeted hetero.

Most people have to suffer some oft-repeated and bordering-on-offensive conversation about their perceived bizarritude, like, “Didn’t you used to be a lesbian?” or “Where are you from? [to someone not white]” or “Why don’t you drink?” or “Wow, you’re tall, how tall are you?” I certainly wouldn’t say you’re overreacting but when I receive one of these Questions That Hell Wrought, I allow the initial query, having accepted that it’s human nature to be curious. My response is pithy and canned, and I suggest the same for you. “No, I’ve always identified as bisexual. I dated lots of women in the past but now I’m with a man.” Asked and answered, change the subject.

I find that this first inquiry can be an innocent request for clarification or attempt at small talk. It’s the follow-up questions that tend to be shockingly offensive: “So do you two have sex?” “No, really, where are you from? You can’t be American. Is it one of those little Asian countries?” “I’ll bet someone attacked you once when you were drunk, right?” “How long is your dick?” You have every right to abruptly beg off or, in a situation like yours with generally decent friends, tell them that you don’t understand what they’re still confused about and that their questions are making you uncomfortable. By the way, it sounds like your gut suspicion -– that these guys had a thing for you -– is right on the money. That still doesn’t mean you owe them an explanation.

At the base of all of this is bisexual invisibility, as you’ve surmised. It’s a cross that we bear, at least until we succeed at changing the world. Just remember: you’re not invisible to OUR community. Many of us are in monogamous relationships, lots of us used to identify as gay, and pretty much all of us know how it feels to be treated like no one knows you’re here. But the more you stick with the bisexual community as we grow and band together, the easier it will be to deal with expected annoyances like this.

© 2012 Tiggy Upland. Tiggy Upland reserves the right to use all submitted queries anonymously, in any medium.