October 28, 2014

Dear Tiggy,

I am a young woman (24) who just ended a six-year, long-distance, monogamous relationship. I live in a country in Africa and he lives in Europe. My “bi-curiosity” is just one of many important factors which caused me to do it.

Now I am super excited to finally put some of my women fantasies into practice. Before we broke up, I summoned all my courage and went alone one night to a lesbian bar. I chatted to some women, and had a fabulous time dancing. I never planned to cheat on my partner and I didn’t even come close to doing that, but I was so excited and relieved to finally just BE in a space around other bisexual and lesbian women.

However, it also posed a problem: now that I am available to see women, I don’t know how to go about it! I have no bi or lesbian friends, and none of my other close friends (except one, who I hardly ever see) or family even know that I identify as bisexual. I don’t see going alone again as an option; I feel like I need the support of friends around me to help me discover how to hit on a girl I like. But I don’t feel comfortable asking my straight friends to come with me when I myself am so new to and vulnerable in this aspect of myself.

I very recently moved from the liberal and fairly queer-friendly city to the remote countryside where I grew up to start a job here. I want to work and live here, but I am torn about having this newfound freedom to discover my bisexuality and yet having to live with my family around — even sharing a house with a family member — and in a very small and conservative community. I feel like my first forays into practical bisexuality are going to take a lot of courage from me, and attempting it here seems daunting and dangerous. So I’m wondering, should I postpone or reject the job? I haven’t signed anything yet and it is a family business so it should be fairly flexible about possibly taking me on at a later stage instead.

To make things all the more complicated, my ex-partner has suggested that we have an open relationship. He is desperate not to lose me and still loves me dearly. At the first mention of this, I emailed him to share my excitement. I thought it would be a way for us to stay in each other’s lives, keep in contact as the best friends we are, and occasionally visit each other for a lovers holiday. He responded with anger and hurt, saying he couldn’t believe after that after our years together, I would say I was excited to be in an open relationship. He called me selfish and stupid which immediately made me feel depressed and trapped again, and of course not wanting to have any relationship with him. He later emailed back apologising for his outburst, blaming it on his feelings of pain at the situation, which I totally understood, and asking again if we could have an open relationship instead of him losing me. Now I’m not so sure any more.

I am bursting with excitement at getting some “rad advice from an excellent bisexual”!

-Finally Free

To think that an enthusiastic fan across the world is breathlessly awaiting my words of wisdom on how to be a happy bisexual thrills me to my tingling toes! I wish all new bi babes could have your buoyant outlook and a confidence fueled by pure potential energy. Would that I could sail to Libreville tonight and trip the lights fantastic with you in celebrating your exuberance to be yourself!

On the issue of your ex-boyfriend, I think you know what you have to do. He is terribly sad that your relationship has come to an end but the kindest thing to do is not give him hope that you can stay together in any fashion. He has demonstrated that he is not in a proper emotional position for an open relationship. You are “Finally Free” — being available for new love is the core of that. Make a clean break of it with him.

Although it’s great that you have a job and family waiting for you in the country, my first impulse is to tell you to pass it up in favor of queer fun times in the city. It’s easier to find and congregate openly with other bisexual/gay women in an urban area. However, I want to be careful not to denigrate or underestimate the rich and rewarding lives of LGBT people in rural areas. Often, the queer community acts like living in the country is wholly untenable but I think that does a real disservice to our sisters and brothers who have crafted fulfilling communities in somewhat unlikely places. Look at this oral history project, Country Queers, to see just a handful of beautiful, refreshing, true stories of rural-living LGBT folks.

In a 2010 interview, Mary L. Gray, author of Out in the Country: Youth, Media, and Queer Visibility in Rural America, cuts to the difference as follows: “When rural young people identify themselves as queer, they…upend and potentially undo the most important identity they have in their communities: a familiar son or daughter, a local from that town. When Rural America seems to reject queer folks, whether with its voting record or in sound bites from its townspeople, we are witnessing a much deeper tussle over who rural community members feel they can trust and who they feel they can turn to in times of trouble…” Perhaps rural Africans put a high value on familiarity as well but since you grew up there, you certainly have a leg up in that regard.

All that said, I still think you should take this time in your young life to experience being bi in the city. I predict you’ll deeply enjoy the liberty of exploring your identity and meeting many likeminded souls out from under the watchful eye of lifelong elders. You can always return to the country later when you’re beyond the wild oat-sowing that urban life tends to facilitate. By then, you’ll likely have more confidence in your sexual identity as well as the manner in which you want to be out around your family.

Most of my readership is not from Africa so allow me a moment to enlighten them: the continent of Africa is made up of 54 countries and it’s way bigger than you think. I point this out, Finally Free, because it’s hard for me to advise you when I don’t know which specific area you’re from. Americans, it would be like someone wanting to know how to bisexual,* if you will, without revealing whether they are from Massachusetts or Kentucky…only more so. The laws, culture, and resources vary signNIFicantly.

So for a more informed view on African life, let’s turn to award-winning Nigerian writer and afrofeminist social commentator Spectra Speaks. Her eponymous blog, www.spectraspeaks.com, is a digital media platform shifting conversations from the political to the personal through the lens of love, empathy, and media. She is the founder and executive editor of Queer Women of Color Media Wire (QWOC), a media advocacy organization that amplifies the voices of queer-identified diaspora around the world. Before we get into what her specific advice is for you, I want to mention a few things about Spectra: 1.) the Bisexual Resource Center gave QWOC a “Bi Ally Award”; 2.) Spectra’s mantra is “Love is my revolution”; and 3.) she wrote this two weeks ago, which tells you why #1 happened, shows how she lives #2, and will restore your faith in the world as a bisexual. Please read it, it’s a revelation of unadulterated compassion.

(Did you read it? Wasn’t it even better than I said?) Here’s what she says about you, Finally Free:

“First, ask for the African country she’s in so you can connect her to resources. It may seem intimidating at first, but it’s one way of meeting friends.

“Second, she should think through the following questions carefully: does she have any friends that she’s really close to who she may consider sharing about her new interest in women? Are these friends that can keep a secret? I’d encourage her to share that she’s interested and perhaps liken it to puberty happening all over again except without any examples of how to ask a girl out! Even if the friend doesn’t come along to the club they can at least be her research partner and someone to talk to as she develops more queer/bi community.

“She should also start following LGBT African bloggers** (ahem!) as meeting others online can be such a relief, affirming, and again a kind of support until she meets others. I’d finally encourage her to focus first on developing friendships. [Regardless of your sexuality, dating] is awkward, challenging, fun, and confusing all at once. It’s so much better with friends.”

I can’t put it any better than that. When Spectra refers to resources, she means queer social groups, support groups, and volunteer opportunities. They’re perfect places to get to know fellow LBT women and say, “Hey, I want to go to a club tonight. Will you be my wing chick?”

I could go on (and on…and on…) but let’s punctuate this column on “wing (chick).” It’s an apt segue to your starting this next chapter of life where you stretch yours and soar.

*Yeah, sure, it’s a verb.

**To start, go to Spectraspeaks.com, scroll down, and look at the column on the right under “Queer Africa.”

Hurry, girl, it’s waiting there for you.

© 2014 Tiggy Upland. Tiggy Upland reserves the right to use all submitted queries anonymously, in any medium.

October 1, 2013

Dear Tiggy,

I’m at uni* and only just got into queer culture, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. I was brought up to never treat anyone any way because of their sex and to let people make their own decisions.

My problem is that I always thought that the point was to eliminate gender roles entirely, and yet for a lot of people it’s clearly very important to claim a different one than what was assumed at birth. Additionally, I don’t want any gender role or to be labeled with one.

How can I continue to fight for lack of gender discrimination and roles whilst being respectful of others’ decisions and identities? I’m not trying to tell others what to call themselves or how to act, it’s just meaningless to me. I’m aware that I’m treading a thin line and would like some advice on how to discuss these notions without being insensitive.

-N

You’re on to the vital notion that when it comes to identity, self-determination is the key. You’ve mastered the act of “not trying to tell others what to call themselves or how to act” but understand that your decisions for yourself — like not “want[ing] a gender role or to be labeled with one” — are just as worthy of respect. Take heart, N: you’re closer to coming to grips with all this than you think.

So let’s separate the idea of gender from gender roles. In my opinion, the latter is something assigned to you by society, an imposing monolith that is neither objective nor even self-aware. Society creates classes and runs its agenda on everyone by assigning each one as “better” or “worse” than another. It eliminates your right to self-determine, and that’s what’s wrong.

Many minority movements have sects who argue their people are no different in literally any manner from those in power. It’s a defensive strategy in response to the majority’s insistence on interpreting minority differences as “worse.” From what I’ve seen, this is a sisyphean approach to social justice. The hegemony will always find methods and reasons to make others seem different in bad way.

Better, I think, to embrace the ways in which your people are culturally different from the norm and know that it’s OK. No, you know what? It’s better than OK: it’s something to celebrate. This is what BUST Magazine, for example, is trying to do with women’s culture.

Roles aside, gender is something intrinsically felt. When I say that I know I’m a woman, it’s not because I like to wear make-up or whatever other behavior society is trying to pin on me. It’s something I feel inside. It’s part of my core essence. If being genderless feels comfortable to you, go with that because it’s your right as an autonomous person. Keep respecting the same right for others, and know that everyone doesn’t need to be the same to deserve to be treated the same.

*Short for “university.” Come on, Americans, keep up.

 
I’m hoping we’ve all moved beyond this.
 


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