Am I Bisexual Enough?

A reminder to reclaim your sexuality and kick biphobia in the ass.

Unsplash | Sharon McCutcheon

You know you like boys, you know you like girls, yet somehow the world still tries to convince you your bisexuality is a phase. It’s not by the way, but saying it and feeling it are two very different things, especially when someone’s biphobic opinions turn into insecurities surrounding your identity.

You’re stuck constantly reminding others—and reassuring yourself—that you aren’t “straight and faking it” because you’re in a heterosexual relationship or “finally embracing your gayness” because you’re in a homosexual one.

From the lack of media representation, to the erasure of bisexuality from LGBTQIA+ conversations, coming to terms with your bi pride can be one of the most difficult things to do.

And if we’re being honest?

It’s hard to feel like you’re a part of the community when you don’t feel like a part of yourself.

Here’s the tea, bisexuality isn’t just a spectrum, it’s a huge ass umbrella.

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If you’ve found security in your sexuality then you’ve definitely learned to block out haters, but if you’ve only recently begun exploring your identity you might already have had the percentage fiasco.

What’s that you ask? The percentage fiasco is a term I use to describe the incorrect belief that one must have a certain level (or percentage) of attraction for both genders in order to “qualify” as bisexual.

If you’ve managed to escape dealing with this then congratulations, you’re one of the lucky few. For the rest of us, this can be one of the biggest hurdles we face, primarily because this insecurity negates the true definition of bisexuality without us even realizing it.

Spoiler alert: There’s no such thing as a “right” percentage of bi. You can be 90% attracted to one gender and still identify as bisexual.

Actually, you can have a complete preference for one gender more than another and still identify as bisexual!

Contrary to popular belief, your bisexuality doesn’t need to have a strict 50/50 split. You don’t even need to like either genders in the exact same way.

Sexually attracted to men but romantically attracted to women? You’re still bi.

Sexually attracted to women but romantically attracted to men? You’re still bi.

Not sexually attracted to either but romantically attracted to both? You may be biromantic, and as long as you rock with the identity, that still makes you bi!

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“But what if I fall in love with someone who’s nonbinary, does that mean I’m pansexual or omnisexual?”

If those terms work better for you, then of course, rock on! However there’s a huge misconception that bisexuality can only mean an attraction to two genders. Though the term has the prefix “bi”, meaning two, the orientation itself isn’t tied to a rigid binary system. Many current definitions state it’s an attraction towards more than one gender (not necessarily—or consistently—saying it’s limited to two). I don’t mention this to erase pansexuality or omnisexuality, I say this as a reminder that in the end it’s about what it means to you.

Bisexuality is a spectrum, and where you land on it and how it translates to the way you lead your life is completely valid in every way, shape, and form.

But how can I be sure I’m Bi if I haven’t been with more than one gender?

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First, who you date means nothing, and second, I’ve never dated or had sex with anyone—and I mean anyone—but even though I’m as virgin as the olive oil in my pantry, I still knew I liked boys and girls. Now disclaimer, when it comes to my sexuality I don’t adhere to labels, however bisexuality is the only term I’d feel comfortable using if necessary, especially since my road to self discovery was so ingrained in my “bi” journey.

When I was in highschool, I hadn’t given much thought to my sexuality. I’d always been an ally to the LGBTQIA+ community and just carried on believing I was straight. It wasn’t until my sophomore year that I started poking at that image. Thankfully, I’d never gone through any bouts of internalized homophobia so when I realized I had a small crush on a girl in my english class, I wasn’t too bothered.

That doesn’t mean I wasn’t in denial.

Though I love my parents, as a teen in a bi-cultural home I wasn’t going to risk bringing up the topic and finding out for myself how “safe” my home environment really was. Luckily, since I’d built a strong support system outside of my family, and because I’m naturally a more private person, this didn’t bother me. After months of talking to my friends, many of which were in the LGBTQIA+ community, the thought of my possible bisexuality crossed my mind.

A thought that was immediately crushed when I fell into the percentage fiasco.

I was 99% into men at the time and told myself that since she was the only girl I’d ever liked, and I’d never dated anyone to prove otherwise, I couldn’t possibly know for sure if I was even into girls as a whole—let alone if I liked them enough to be bisexual.

In the past, I thought that because I had a stronger preference for men that continuing that conversation with myself didn’t matter...but it did.

College came, more feelings arose, and I couldn’t love boys and girls more! Point is I kept my internal dialogue going, not so I could find a label and “come out” to the world, but so I could understand more of who I am.

It doesn’t matter how the world thinks you should identify, it doesn’t matter if you discover your bipride 5 years into a marriage, and it doesn’t matter if your placement under the bi umbrella shifts.

Your sexuality is yours and yours alone.

Biphobia be damned.

With confidence and security,

Draco Rose