June 19, 2026
Yesterday, an old colleague confidently informed me that I am not bisexual! Not because they had lived my life or known my relationships, or because they had any intimate knowledge of my attractions. But because they had “met me.” Apparently, that was enough for them to know my orientation! What began as a conversation about a story I am currently writing slowly drifted towards sexuality, labels, identity, and eventually, me. Somewhere in the middle of that discussion, I mentioned that while “I am not particularly fond of labels, if I had to choose one, I identify as bisexual.” And mind you, the person also associates themselves as part of the queer community. And funnily, their response to my declaration of being Bi was immediate, “No, you’re not.” A more reasonable response could still have been â “Really?” or “I didn’t know that.” or “Tell me more.” Rather it was just a flat-out rejection of a reality I have lived with for years. And I found that fascinating⊠Maybe a little offensive too, but not too shocking. Just fascinating⊠because it reminded me of something that bisexual people often encounter, both inside and outside the LGBTQIA+ community: the assumption that other [âŠ]
