Coming In?
Earlier this week, I read the post “Inching Closer to Coming out,” on the GayDadProject site, and it really resonated with me.
See, despite writing for Lesbian Family, I’m not actually a Lesbian. I identify as Bisexual, though that doesn’t really truly encompass my views. I just really don’t like labels. But bisexual I am, or pansexual, perhaps, or whatever it is one wants to call themselves when they’re attracted to people regardless of what’s down below. (I mean, unless you’re a centaur or something like that. I do keep my attraction to the human species.)
And it’s funny, sort of, not really in a ha ha kind of way, how often I find myself coming out.
I remember the first time I really confused people. I was working at a business that asked us to fill out a diversity survey. Co-workers (with whom I was friendly) came to me with urgent looks on their faces. “We have a question,” they asked in hushed voices.
“Oh?”
“So… if lesbians can also be called gay, when you filled out the form… didyouputlesbianorgay?”
“I put bisexual, because that’s what I am.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop, even on our cushy carpeted floors.
“But you’re married… to a woman.”
“Yes, but I like men, too. I just happened to fall in love with a woman, and decide to spend my life with her.”
They got it, eventually. And I suppose I’m grateful that, for the most part, I live in a world where nobody thinks twice about the fact that I’m married to a woman. But of course, then explaining that I also like men gets all the more complicated.
But how much more complicated will it be, even, when I have to explain it to n?
Having two moms is a way of life for her, and certainly isn’t complicated. And, I suppose, she need never know that I’m also attracted to men, and used to date them, before I married her Mama. But I wouldn’t then be telling her the whole truth of me, nor would I be helping to expose her to the truth that love and sexuality is a vast and complicated spectrum, and nothing to be ashamed of. And that’s not something I want. I want her to know me, and I want her to know that it’s okay to be who I am, who anybody is, and who she is and will be.
At three, my daughter isn’t yet ready for this conversation. But I suspect that, if I’m to be ready for it by the time she is, I ought to start preparing myself now.
We're collecting an extended family album over at
It’s amazing how no matter what you do, bisexuality is so invisible. Thanks for the article, I was actually inspired by the Gay Dad Project piece as well. It will be making another cameo here this month.
She may not be ready for the conversation about you specifically, but she may be ready for the concept of bisexuality if she hasn’t heard it yet.
Before my older daughter went to school for the first time (she was four, her sister was two), I started spelling it out to them overtly:
A boy who loves other boys is called gay.
A boy who loves girls or a girl who loves boys is called straight.
A girl who loves other girls is called lesbian.
A person who loves boys OR girls is called bisexual.
Most boys have penises and most girls have vulvas, but not always. You can’t be sure if someone is a boy, or a girl, or something else, unless you ask.
For each of these categories we have specific people in our lives we can identify, too, which helps a lot.
I didn’t want her stepping onto a playground and hearing these word tossed around in a possibly derogatory manner without knowing the real meaning of them.
We have built from here. It is kind of annoying to have to give such strict definitions of course and I’d rather tell them that everybody is queer in one way or another, but little kids are literalists, and you gotta start somewhere.
Great comment and break-down; we’ve been using some of this language, but I’m definitely going to tuck this into my mental portfolio.