Hi I'm Bi.

If anyone were to ask me to define my sexuality, I would change my response depending on the person.

If I was talking to someone I trusted enough to have these conversations with, I would say "I'm attracted to androgyny towards the masculine side, and masculinity in general. I have no preference on gender/identity." If I was talking to someone gay, I would call myself "queer." If I was talking to a straight person I would say "I'm bi." To sum it up, you know how there are some things that matter to people when they're looking for a spouse, and they don't matter to you at all? Like someone could be really focused on a man's height or religion, or political affiliations, but to you, that is all just an afterthought? Well that's how I look at gender. It's an afterthought. It's something I forget about until the very end.

I really have no preference on these answers, because all of them are true. All of them are a part of me.

The first time I heard of the concept of bisexuality was in middle school. Shows like Flavor of Love and I Love New York were taking over Vh1. A commercial for a new series called Tila Tequila's Shot At Love came on. In the show, Tila would be dating both men and women. I had never really thought about the concept before. I just couldn't conceptualize how someone could be attracted to both men, and women. At school, someone came out as bisexual. While talking to my mother about it, she said "I don't believe in that. You either like one, or the other." That, along with my own confusion about bisexuality, along with years of indoctrinated homophobia sealed the deal. Bisexuality was non-existent and bisexuality was bad.

I'm 21 years old now, and I know that's not true. The decision to date people of your same gender, and other genders, is not a political choice. It's not confusion. It's taking people for who they are, at their simplest form. This isn't to say that those who identify as monosexual are close-minded, or wrong. It's to say that bisexuality has given me some grief, but like with most marginalized identities, it's allowed me to see something beautiful.

Since coming out I've heard the microagressions. From my mother labeling me "gay," because I told her I was dating someone who identified as a woman at the time. To a past lover saying "I only love men because of their penises," which is just transphobic and all types of wrong. To being accused of being transphobic for identifying as bi, even though many trans people identify as bisexual. There's also the arguments over the use of the word "femme," and other queer political thought that most straight people wouldn't know about.

I try to stay out of these debates because maybe I still feel as though I'm a baby bi. Most of my friends do not identify as bi, and it can get lonely sometimes. However, this year I've interacted with a lot of awesome Black bi people, and it's made life a lot better.

Of course straight people will question the existence of bisexuality, but it often happens from people within the queer community. I've had people suggest that it's like a light switch. That I should just go back to dating women, or men. Which is wrong, but also those aren't the only genders! Someone told a friend that they were enforcing heteronormativity for having sex with male-identified people even though they identified as bi/pan. The idea that bi people are attention-starved "because that's how the bi people I knew in middle school were." The idea that we are more likely to cheat, when in reality, cheating is just indicative of a selfish person, not a bi person. The list goes on and on, and frankly, I don't have the time.

I'm learning to embrace all parts of me. I'm no longer allowing people to call me a lesbian out of laziness. I'm bisexual. It's not all of me, but it's a part of me. Today is my day.