“If Something Is to Be Told About My Life I Will”—Interviews with Indian Bi Women
By Aishwarya Amrit Vijay Raj
The term “bisexual” was first written in 1793. Its Merriam-Webster definition at the time said it meant “possessing characters of both sexes.” Over time, it has undergone numerous expansions and changes, and more recently, bisexuality was defined as “the potential to be attracted—romantically and/or sexually—to people of more than one gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree,” by Robyn Ochs, editor of Bi Women Quarterly magazine. The “Bisexual Manifesto,” a statement published in 1990 in Anything that Moves, a magazine published by the Bay Area Bisexual Network, emphasized that bisexuality is a fluid identity, and that the “bi” in bisexual in no way stands for living gender or accepting sexuality in binaries.
The cisgender bisexual women I interviewed for this article were all on journeys of unlearning the norms of the binary world. In their responses, one may read that the choice of a cisgender heterosexual man as a partner isn’t always a “free” one. I felt a shared acceptance in their journeys, having to do with undoing hetero learnings. At one point, one of them said, “With a man, he does all the labor of sustaining the conversation. With a woman on a date, you need to take that burden equally, if not more.” I wondered how heteronormative ways impact and design very basic and important life choices and situations.
There was also the question of families. In a 2017 essay, “Unhousing Sexuality: Sexuality and Singlehood in Singapore’s Public Housing,” Lilian Chee observes: “The family is the basic block of our society… And by family in Singapore, we mean one man, one woman, marrying, having children and bringing up children within that framework of a stable family unit.” According to Chee, state-controlled housing rules permit only those Singaporeans with a “proper family nucleus” to purchase apartments. The said nucleus may be achieved through various means, by married couples, parents and children, a widowed person and their children, siblings, etc. We know this notion of what constitutes a proper relationship isn’t unique to Singapore.
Akansha Patidar, a 21-year-old from Madhya Pradesh, expresses deep appreciation for her friends and her Masters degree in Gender Studies, acknowledging their role as a vital support system and catalyst for her acceptance of her sexuality. She contemplates the potential reactions of her parents when they discover her sexuality, fearing it might be perceived as a “failure of upbringing.” As her elderly parents need her support, she finds herself stalling the potentially confrontational conversation.
“Compulsory heterosexuality” is a term coined by U.S. poet and feminist Adrienne Rich, who argued that women are constantly bombarded with messages portraying them as the emotional and sexual possessions of men. She argues the autonomy and equality of women are seen as threats to established institutions such as family, religion, and the state. Conventional mechanisms of controlling women, such as patriarchal motherhood, economic exploitation, adherence to the nuclear family, and the enforcement of compulsory heterosexuality, are reinforced by legislative actions, religious influence, media representations, and censorship attempts. The resulting heteronormativity places systemic pressures and expectations on people to adhere to heterosexual norms, disregarding the diversity and complexity of human genders, sexes, and sexualities.**
The women I spoke to were all on journeys of undoing compulsory heterosexuality. Besides the long and ongoing process of accepting their queerness themselves, each had a long journey ahead before she could open up to her family.
Born and brought up in Delhi, Nikita, a 26-year-old cis-bi woman, said her undergrad days’ experience with a best friend prompted her to reflect and question her sexuality. “I could not completely connect to queerness, but I knew for sure that it was not a mere friendship. I was reading a lot about queerness, attending MHQC (Miranda House Queer Collective) discussions, and listening to other queers speak about their journey. It took me two months to finally accept my queerness, but I was only dating men until then, and it was a one-and-a-half-year journey to come to terms with my own bisexuality.”
Her parents do not know about her sexuality yet.
I pondered the notion of “cheating” and the way that cishet, monogamous men understand it for themselves and their partners. In this regard, the women I interviewed had similar views and stories to tell. Shreya, a 23-year-old cis-bi woman from Karnataka, recounted an incident involving her ex-boyfriend, a cishet man, who expressed to her that he would not feel as upset if his partner had an intimate encounter with another woman as opposed to a man. He also mentioned that he’d be fine if she communicated her interest beforehand. That conversation emerged while they were discussing the concept of cheating in heterosexual relationships.
Do some men tend not to get offended because the non-hetero relationships of women don’t feel like a threat to their manhood? Or perhaps they consider the romantic interest between women as “just a phase,” thus stealing the authenticity of the sexuality of the person who is in such bonds.
Nikita had a different experience. After she revealed her sexual orientation to her ex-partner, a cishet man, he felt as continually intimidated and uneasy about her interactions with other women as with men.
Often bi people are called “confused,” and I wonder if the heterosexist setting and ignorance leads some cishet men into the “confusion” about how love, desire, and sexuality work.
When the media representation in popular culture does show women attracted to each other, often one appears feminine and the other masculine. This isn’t always the case in real life. Many Indian femme bi women who are into femme women recall their teen attraction to a screen celebrity who was also a femme woman. It is a common experience in the community—an incident in the early days gets them into a dilemma of, “Do I like her or do I want to be like her?”
Bi women are different in their journeys of what gets them to like women, when they do. Shreya appreciates women with self-awareness and self-assurance. Akansha believes women make life much easier, and holds them to a higher standard than men, because of her prior dating experiences with men.
The Bisexual Manifesto in 1990 clearly read: “Bisexuality is a whole, fluid identity. Do not assume that bisexuality is binary or duogamous in nature; that we must have ‘two’ sides or that we must be involved simultaneously with both genders to be fulfilled human beings. In fact, don’t assume that there are only two genders. Do not mistake our fluidity for confusion, irresponsibility, or an inability to commit. Do not equate promiscuity, infidelity, or unsafe sexual behavior with bisexuality. Those are human traits that cross all sexual orientations. Nothing should be assumed about anyone’s sexuality—including your own.”
To counter the heteronormativity-sponsored myths of being bi, we need more awareness of bisexuality and queerness in general.
The first issue of Anything that Moves carried a piece on “The New Bisexual Orthodoxy,” describing “the new bisexual hero,” who knows her sexual identity very well, without any conflicts, contradicting the image that constructing a bisexual identity is a long-term and slow process.
Some bi women express their dilemma of “not being bi enough” if they have not dated or been with someone who is not a cishet man for a longer time. Bi people can be coupled or single, monogamous or not, and many times the choice of dating or committing is influenced by the hetero norms of the society around.
For Akansha, “I am still on my journey to undo hetero conditioning, but dating a man does not mean you are not bi. Sexuality is about oneself, about knowing oneself, exploring it, living it. Not everyone can do the exploring part—it has a cost.”
The findings of a recent survey by the Yale School of Public Health are that the majority of the world’s sexual minorities—about 83 percent of those who identify as lesbian, gay, or bisexual—conceal their orientation from all or most of the people in their lives. Published in the PLOS One journal, the study is perhaps the first effort to estimate the extent of the “global closet” and to assess its effects on public health. It argues that making people maintain secrecy has a negative impact, as it keeps sexual minorities apart and also keeps them from accessing public health resources.
Sharing knowledge of one’s sexuality with a cishet partner can influence the direction of many aspects of the relationship. When Nikita would notify prospective partners (cishet men) about her sexual background and orientation, they would become quite uncomfortable. Some even questioned whether she was certain about her bisexuality. As she explains, “It took me a long time to come to terms with my sexuality and I still struggle with issues that heteronormativity imposes—in that case, I cannot take such inquiries. Even my sharing of queer memes has decreased from what it used to be five years ago. I’ve experienced unfavorable responses from folks as a result.” Her response comes not from a place of shame or confusion about her orientation, but rather from a place to save the labor of catering to irresponsible and unwanted cishet intrusion. “I tell the amount of detail needed to a partner who has never had awareness about queerness—but they could do some basic reading or self-education. Rest we may always talk.” Adding, “I don’t owe anyone all the teaching—you also need to educate yourself and if something is to be told about my life I will.”
The fetishization that occurs as a result of these myths is another reason why women often choose not to reveal or discuss their queerness. The myths depict bisexual women as “loose” or “confused,” suggesting their openness to all sorts of sexual requests. They are a gross violation of women’s choices, autonomy and right to sexual expression. As Shreya said, “They also say that bi women are confused. I heard people say all this. I consciously surround myself with friends who don’t think this way.”
It is interesting how romantic bonds too can have their place of origin in shared experiences of oppression. For one respondent, “I like women who are able to express anger, who are not stigmatized or conscious about being angry wherever she should be.” Another respondent likes women who are confident and have a sense of self. They are reflections of the possibility of a unique bond that is fostered between women who might be interested in each other, a bond coming from a plane of some shared embodied and societal experience.
A message to oneself, while living against hetero impositions, can be what was said by Loraine Hutchins, co-editor of Bi Any Other Name: Bisexual People Speak Out, an anthology of bisexual essays and coming-out stories. “I come out as single and non-monogamous and bi… I feel that the power and responsibility for sexual freedom and sexual self-satisfaction rests on me rather than equally on the viewer who is viewing me… you have to listen to your heart, your head, your pussy, and put them all together.”
Aishwarya Amrit Vijay Raj lives in India and holds a Master’s degree in philosophy from Delhi University. A three-time UN Laadli Media awardee, she is an independent writer and researcher who believes in questioning and rethinking dominant knowledge and practices. Her hobby is to lie down and gaze at the ceiling fan.
This article originally appeared in The Citizen, November 5, 2023. https://www.thecitizen.in/gender/if-something-is-to-be-told-about-my-life-i-will-972188. This is a condensed version and it is reprinted with permission.
** Adrienne Rich, “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence,” Signs, Vol. 5, No. 4, Women: Sex and Sexuality (Summer, 1980)