The Bisexual Option

“Anyone who can lie can be tactful.”

Labels.

The singular word that describes the method by which people are united and divided. Rich, poor; black, white; art, science; straight, gay. Straddling the line between any two distinct labels alienates you from the people that occupy both. How do I know this? I’m a Nigerian upper-middle class bisexual man.

Call me M.

People say a true bisexual is rarer than a virgin above 40. This, come to think of it, isn’t as rare as it sounds. The ones, who are, hide it very well. What’s it like being a part of one of the most distrusted and misunderstood castes of sexual beings in the world? I’m still figuring it out myself; can I get back to you on that?

It might take a while.

Being on the fence has allowed me meet far more people than I would have if I were either a gay or a straight person. It has offered me the unique opportunity of understanding to some extent both sides of the coin and expanded my understanding of life and people. Trust me when I say, in a relationship, both boys and girls grow through the same emotions, they just don’t react in the exact same way. People are still just people, on both sides of the fence.

I’ve experienced a lot of people.

Unfortunately, living this way has also deprived me of the joy of developing intimate relationships with some of people I’ve cared about. The boys are afraid that I might just be using them for some fun on the side and the girls are afraid I might be using them as cover for what they are convinced is my ‘real sexuality’. The fact that I’ve been honest with them about who I am doesn’t mean much.

It’s a tough life, this one.

I get asked a lot, “Why can’t you just pick a side?” And I just laugh, partly because the question is hilarious and partly because life is never that simple. Fundamentally, attraction is a sexless thing. Eyes, smile, hair, voice, skin colour, funny, arrogance, intelligence, disposition; the same things attract me to people of both sexes and them to me. For me the preference between men and women is like the preference between ass and boobs. Some men are ass men, some are boob men and some, well… some like both and don’t discriminate.

Discriminate.

Another word that has slowly become a very real part of my life. It determines my level of interaction with people and has made me just as paranoid as the next gay person. Just as I can’t understand why many smart, intelligent women actively seek out men who physically abuse them, or why most men bother to get married and give up sexual liberty only to end up cheating; a lot of people can’t understand why I’d want to fuck a man when I already fuck women.

Yeah, I said fuck.

Isn’t that what you all think sexuality is about? Who you fuck? My last ‘boyfriend’ (using that word loosely) had this interesting theory. He said I was bisexual because I liked power. I asked him to explain and he said,

“Nothing worries me more, than walking with you into a room full of people and knowing that every single one of them, male and female could be your next lover. And you enjoy that fact, immensely.”

I laughed it off then; little did he know that, it was to an extent, true.

Truth. Sex. Love.

Relationships are about love but aren’t they also about power? Acquiring power over another person in an unhealthy relationship and giving it up in a healthy one? Aren’t the rules the same in every relationship; heterosexual or homosexual, Platonic and otherwise? Aren’t relationships about who’s dominant and who’s submissive, who wears the figurative pink and who wears the figurative blue?

People get judged and discriminated against as a result of the weirdest things. How do you assume you can make accurate judgement about someone by the colour of the clothes on his back? Black means you’re evil, a white wedding dress suggests purity; the girl in Red lipstick is sexy and Pink is effeminate. So boys aren’t supposed to wear pink because its ‘effeminate’ and therefore the exclusive preserve of women and homosexuals? A man wearing more than an article of clothing in pink is immediately expected to catwalk and talk through his nose. So myopic. I hate pink but I own a lot of fuchsia shirts and wear them often, my own little act of defiance.

I can be quite stubborn.

But don’t worry, I’m not an activist. I’m not going to horrify you by a kissing a boy in the middle of a street in Abuja. I love my freedom too much to risk being imprisoned for 14 years because some civil servant does not understand the difference between a homosexual and a bisexual. And no, I am not going to start a petition to be able to love and marry whoever I want irrespective of their sex. The homosexuals are still having a hard time with that; I can only imagine what it will be like for me. I want all these things but I also know how prejudiced and vindictive people can be and all I want is a quiet, happy life.

It’s my life to live.

If you’ll pretend I don’t exist, I will do the same for you. I’ve learnt that life is all about secret lives and garnished truths. This is especially true of Nigeria, where your brothers and sister know and sleep with me in private but denounce my kind in public. In this country we skirt around the truth and use tactful phrases to mask reality. That’s fine by me. The lies and the facades will go on, as they have before me and as they will long after I am gone.

They have become my way of life.

****

Thanks to M for writing this.

Hey Guys, today, as you can see, we are exploring the issue of Bisexuality. Many people don’t understand or even believe in it and just call them confused. Do you believe in bisexuality? What do you think of those who choose not to choose between men and women — who pick the bisexual option? Do you have bisexual African friends or are you bisexual yourself and want to share something anonymously? Today we want to explore this, let us know your thoughts — whatever they are. Go ahead and Express You.