My story of being bisexual starts a very long time ago, since I am now, at
considerable shock to myself, fifty years of age.
Some women say they "always knew", while others declare themselves to be
"late bloomers". I'm neither. The only thing I "always knew" is that
deep, deep down I just wasn't like other girls. I looked like other girls,
but I just didn't think like them. Didn't like the same things, didn't
have the same interests, didn't know what to talk to them about. But
mentally I wasn't like a boy either, although I was far more comfortable in the
company of boys than girls.
Confused, and with a child's brain really unable to analyse or understand
what I was experiencing, I simply withdrew.
In primary school I had a boyfriend, I think because of
the simple fact that I spent more time with boys and
had that greater sense of familiarity with them. In the all-girls' high school I attended I was acutely aware of
my discomfort towards both the girls I shared my days with, and the boys whom we
were sardined with at points of bus connection. Everyone else seemed to be
chatting and flirting .... and I just wanted the ground to swallow me up.
High school was a kind of torture. I knew there was such a thing as a
gay man, but I had almost no awareness of lesbianism. I would catch myself
looking at girls and turn away in micro-seconds, censoring my own thoughts to
the extent that consciously I totally believed myself to be straight.
Often the other girls noticed and I seemed to live in a state of perpetual
embarrassment, unable to understand why my eyes seemed to have a life of their
own and why I felt so tongue-tied and uncomfortable.
After school, I had boyfriends that I genuinely loved and found immensely
attractive. Other than that I kept to myself, going to nightclubs on my
own, and even going to drive-in theatres on my own. I just found it
impossible to mix comfortably with girls. Despite trying to keep up with
the latest fashions of the time, I never felt "feminine" and
always felt that I wasn't "a real woman".
I yearned to feel comfortable in my own skin, and to get some sense of ease
about myself as a female. Even dressing was a problem - I loved fashion,
even the extremes of frill and masculine clean lines, but felt like a fake
whatever I wore.
I kept myself busy studying and learning, something I still do to this day.
That's how I learned to quiet an unquiet mind.
It wasn't until my early twenties, once I was married, that my feelings for
women became so overpoweringly strong that I actually did something about it.
The experience was disappointing to say the least. I wasn't the least bit
interested in the relationship, just in the sex. My attitude, I'm ashamed
to say, was pretty predatory and with the wisdom of hindsight I can look back
and say that I got what I deserved.
Finally I realised that what I really wanted was a meaningful relationship
with a woman, but with my usual impulsiveness tried to "microwave" a
relationship with someone who was just about the most unsuitable partner one
could imagine. It ended with the dreaded "threesome" experience with my
husband and it was then that I realised that for me, my attraction to men and my
attraction for women are like oil and water. They don't meld.
Despite the fact that I am the kind of bisexual (and there are so very many
different kinds) who need both a woman and a man in her life, I'm just not into
more than one in my intimate moments.
I ended my first marriage in the late 80's, having realised that I'd married
a man out of rebellion toward my parents rather than out of love. I spent
4 years pretty much on my own, struggling to bring up 2 children with next to no
financial support, and with my mind totally engaged with putting food on the
table for them. Worried about custody issues, I was so terrified to be
anything other than "squeaky clean" that I virtually just lived for my children.
Any thought of women was once again suppressed in micro-seconds and I wrote off
my past as "a phase I went through when I was young". I was 100% convinced
that I was now heterosexual.
Finally I got so lonely that I started looking for a partner, male of course!
It never once occurred to me that I had options! Luckily for me I met a
man that seemed to me the most gorgeous human being on the planet. Highly
intelligent and incredibly handsome, I nagged him for 6 years until he finally
proposed.
Life together in those days wasn't easy, with 4 children between us and all the usual
step-family issues, challenges, and hassles. The children seemed to grow
up quickly and about 3 years ago the last one, my daughter, left home. As
I stood in our driveway with her, waiting for her to be collected by her flat
mate, somewhere deep inside me, all hell broke loose.
It felt like a swirling mass of confusion rising up and totally overwhelming
me. I had no idea what "it" was, but I felt distressed, disoriented, and
in pain, and it wasn't because my daughter was all grown up and leaving home.
The truth hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks .... I needed a woman
in my life.
For 2 years I struggled with these feelings, shoving them down and keeping
them as a painful secret. I very much needed women in my life, and in
particular I needed a special woman. But I was (am) monogamous. What
do you do when you desperately need both, but also love and appreciate the
intimacy that comes from being bonded to just one? It was the most
god-awful catch-22 I could imagine. I joined lesbian groups just to have
female contact. And was rejected, every time. People say that
heterosexuals are bigoted and cruel. They have nothing on the lesbian
community.
Finally I saw a psychologist, along with my husband, and at least for the
first time was able to verbalise the pain and distress to someone who could
listen and be compassionate. I began to believe that perhaps I wasn't a
freak or a hopeless case, and that rather than being trapped in a catch-22,
there might actually be a solution.
The solution was to build authentic friendships with women like me, and
perhaps one day to be lucky enough to form a very special, but platonic,
relationship with one of these women.
Finally, deep inside me, I had a
glimmer of hope that I
wasn't the only one in such a situation, and that there must be others!
I spent perhaps a year searching all over the net, trying different groups,
and came up blank. There were some nice communities of bisexual women, but
the level of discussion mirrored the level of education and life experience and
once again I just didn't fit in. Sexual preference alone is no basis for
friendship.
Then there were the "bisexual" chat lists, both mixed (which didn't suit me)
and female only. These were without exception focussed on sexual experience and
most of the writers seemed to have the same attitude of sexual hobbyism that I
had as a younger person and now so much regret. That was the last thing I
was looking for.
The closest thing I found to what I wanted and needed was
a group for lesbian doctors, focussing on career support and peer mentoring.
But they wouldn't accept bisexuals, and I am not a doctor, but a clinical
researcher.
So I decided to set up a chat list, and also a web site, for bisexual
professional/business women in Australia, who, like me, are looking for good
discussion and authentic friendship. Will anyone visit? Are there
other women just like me? I guess I'm about to find out.
We've been so invisible, and so isolated. We've faced unique challenges
throughout our lives and continue to face them now. Let's join hands
across this country and form a real community, gaining strength and sustenance
from each other, and helping to build quality of life for each other personally
and professionally.
That's my story, and I'd very much like to hear yours.
