Sexual identity? Does not actually come from “who you fuck”. See, this is one of those misconceptions which lead to all sorts of misunderstandings, from backing up the assertion that “everyone is bi” (because so many people have had sexual contact with more than one gender) to dismissing sexual identities altogether.
Like in this oh so lovely comment (doomed to forever remain an unpublished reply to Why I loathe “Everyone’s bi”):
We’re being told that our identities — who we are, in a real, fundamental way — are false.
Who you bone is not who you are.
If you define yourself by who you fuck, well, that’s kind of sad to me.
I define who I am by a lot broader criteria than who’s genitals touch my genitals.
…really. Who I bone (nice heteronormative phrase, there, by the way) is not who I am? I never would have guessed. I always thought I was The-Man-sexual, since I’ve only ever had sex with one person other than myself. Or perhaps I am, as Recursive Paradox says, vibesexual (shout out to Good Vibrations and It’s My Pleasure). Or, mostly, digisexual (hat tip to Lucy). Bisexual? Well, I’ve never had sex with a woman, so I certainly can’t be that.
…oh wait.
Because that wasn’t actually what I was saying. Y’know, what with pointing out that monogamy and bisexuality (or other nonmonosexualities) are not, contrary to popular belief, incompatible. For that matter, neither are celibacy and bisexuality. Or a history of sex with multiple genders and monosexuality. Because who we bone, as the commenter said, is not, in fact, who we are.
But our sexual identity? Yeah, that is sort of who we are. It surely feels fundamental to me: like a limb1, or a layer of fascia that twines around everything inside me and holds me together. It feels as bound with myself as my bones, my flesh, my fat, my skin — or my humanity, my womanhood, my age.
Except, apparently, I am denying those parts of myself when I proclaim my bisexuality. I am not, according to the above commenter, also bipolar, or fat, or white, or a mother, or a sister, or a daughter, or a lover, or a writer, or a blogger, or a student, or a knitter, or kind, or compassionate, or passionate, or opinionated, or any of the multitude of other aspects of my self which I’ve talked about, here and elsewhere. No, apparently by asserting my sexual identity, by saying it is fundamental to who I am, I am reducing the whole of my self to this one aspect of me. And if I don’t want some random internet douche to interpret assertions of my sexual orientation that way, then I should damn well shut my mouth.
And become invisible. Again. Still. Always.
But that’s not marginalization or oppression, oh no. That’s just being more evolved, because who needs sexual identity? For that matter, who needs race, really — we should all be colorblind. And gender? The so-evolved all know that’s just a social construct.
Each of these arguments is achingly familiar to those of us who have been erased — who have had those arguments used against us — by oppressive communities. “You’re not bisexual; it’s silly to define yourself by “who you fuck”, I don’t care who you sleep with, just don’t tell me about it, don’t ask for “special rights” because of it. I don’t need to acknowledge the ways in which you have historically and systematically been oppressed because of your race — we’ve moved past that, can’t you angry “minority” types stop playing “the race card” all the time? Gender isn’t real: you’re just “a man in a dress”, and that’s all you’ll ever be, you’ll never know what it’s like to really be a woman.”
This is hate speech, y’all. This excuses murder, and assault, and abuse, and a hundred smaller, subtler forms of oppression. This is how we are told not to find each other, not to stand in solidarity, not to work together to dismantle the oppressions we face — so that we can be picked off one by one for the very identities we’re told aren’t real.
So I say no. I say there’s a lot more — and a lot less — to identities than popularly conceived of. There’s a lot more value, a lot more depth, a lot more nuance — and a lot less checklists and gatekeepers and policing. Identity, especially a nonmonosexual identity, is highly complex, and breathtakingly simple. It’s not about who I bone, and it’s not for you to define for me. It is about who I want and what I feel, and it is for me to declare, if I so choose.
And I? I so choose.
I am bisexual/queer/pan/nonmonosexual/not-even-slightly-straight. And it matters.
- I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the loss-of-limb analogy, because those who are born without or lose a limb are not any less themselves for having that particular body configuration, and I have a strong suspicion — ok, I’m pretty certain — using this analogy is a form of ableism. ↩
Arwyn
In my bathroom hangs a plaque with a picture of a yin yang and the word BALANCE. I can never get it to hang straight. This probably says something deep and meaningful about my life.
Beautifully written, thank you for sharing <3
And to the person who wrote that comment about "who you bone" – I hope you read this, links and all. You quite obviously need to.
I think you said this SO much better than many of us could, myself included. Very well written, and very true.
That being said, I just about spit coffee out all over my screen when I read the “who you bone” comment. Sorry, but I did. I couldn’t help it. For all my forward thinking, I’m still stuck in grade school sometimes
It took all of my extraordinary restraint to keep from belittling the commenter for that “who’s”. Which I have now made pointless by, um, belittling the commenter…
I’ll join you in grade school. We can have a party where we clear the desks away and put on bad pop music and shuffle around pretending to dance.
I always say I’m Situational. Sometimes I dig a chick. Sometimes I dig a dude. It’s not gender that attracts me. It’s the person. The situation we find ourselves in. Oh, and I’ve been with the same dude for 13 years. ‘Cuz this situation suits me just fine.
You’re welcome for digisexual. And you’re right on the head about this being hate speech. It’s why people feel free to say things like, say, “No woman ever enjoys giving a blowjob.” and then, when women claim that they actually do enjoy doing that, say “No one wants to hear about your sex life!”. Because heaven forfend we tell the truths of our lives and end up disproving society’s or even other people’s pet theories about who we are. Thanks for speaking up about your truths. Keep it up.
Thank you posting this! I really wondered what you were going to say about this guy, about your views on the situation.
Of course our sexuality defines us. Everything we do defines us and is a part of our being, even the smallest little intricacies. I’m the breastfeeding mother of a teething 10 month old. The teething part there might not really sound like it should define me, but for now? It does. Know why? It effects who I am today. I am grumpier today because my nipples got mashed harder than I am used to and I’m a little sore. So yeah. Things like “who we bone,” these things that are not the smallest little intricacies, but big honking declarations of how we see the world DO define us no matter how sad it makes the guy who commented. To deny that is to deny the air we breathe.
I have always defined sexual orientation as who turns us on, not who we bone. Otherwise, “virgins” would be defined as people who have no sexual orientation at all, and I think we all know that’s simply not true.
Only het virgins have an orientation. The rest of us have to actually do all the permutations (and holy cow do there get to be some permutations yeesh) before we are graciously permitted to finally claim that which was ever ours.
Of course my sexuality doesn’t define all of me. It defines a lot of me but so does being disabled and being a gamer and liking cats and dogs (total chaos!). This individual really felt this was a stinging rebuttal?
Hah, yes. A friend of mine was a virgin until he was 28 — but because he’s straight, his sexuality was never seriously questioned (which is not to say he didn’t receive taunting about the “lack”, which is a WHOLE ‘nother topic); whereas I, 28 year old queer woman who has “only” had sex with one-person-besides-myself ever? I’m questioned all the fucking time — when I’m not just assigned to the straight box.
I don’t know what this individual thought about the quality of their comment, but they left it anonymously, which does not speak highly of them to me. (Anonymous to share personal information I’ll gladly accept. Anonymous to attack? Um, no. Then I call you coward.)
And I, too, am bipetual, with a mostly-German Shepherd and a probably-part-Maine Coon. Or really I’m panpetual (I want chickens, anna tortoise, anna parrot, anna ferret, anna goat, an’…), but The Man (and, ok, our lease) limits us to just the two. Who, by the way, do not “fight like cats and dogs”: there I go, blowin’ apart another stereotype.
This is the first post I came across on your site. I just wanted to leave my two cents worth and let you know that after reading only one post, I think you are an incredible woman/person/parent. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with the world. Keep on sharing and I am going to keep on reading…now to just go and get myself slightly caught up and read some more of your posts!