By Emma Jones
“You’re a lesbian. Damn, just call yourself a lesbian.”
I frowned. “No,” I said slowly. “I’m not a lesbian. I just…don’t like those guys.”
My friend crossed her arms and scowled at me. “You liked them before you went out with them. They did nothing wrong on the dates, right? Two guys in a row, you just go out, and instantly feel the need to dump them? You don’t like guys. There’s nothing wrong with being gay, just come out about it and stop the lying.”
It was hard to argue with her logic. Maybe that was how lesbians felt – maybe all lesbians liked guys the way I did, but couldn’t stand to go out with them. That did make sense. The longest relationship I ever had was with another girl.
But I couldn’t let it go. I had crushes on boys. I was sixteen and felt like I should have that all figured out already. The rest of my friends had no doubt they were straight – it was so easy for them.
Maybe I just expected myself to like boys, because they did. Maybe I wanted a boyfriend because they had boyfriends.
But if that were the case, wouldn’t I also be trying to hide my attraction to girls?
***
“Your girlfriend said you didn’t like dicks.”
I winced. I had told her that in confidence. I was cuddling with her boyfriend just after giving him a blowjob, and that she told him private things about me was not something I wanted to hear. Especially when those things were embarrassing as hell. I was nineteen and almost had myself figured out.
“Well,” I muttered, “I don’t.”
“Then why’d you suck me off?”
“That wasn’t about liking dicks,” I snapped. “I like you.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Have you considered that you might be a lesbian?”
***
“I don’t like being around guys who want to date me.”
“I think that means you’re a lesbian, dear.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was 22 and I was talking to my other girlfriend. “No,” I said slowly. “I’m not a lesbian.”
“You just don’t like guys who like women. You only like gay guys, pretty much.”
“No – ”
“I think you just like the idea of being bi and poly, but if you don’t want to date guys, doesn’t that defeat the point?”
“It’s not that!” I said quickly. “I want to date guys. It’s when they want to date me before getting to know me, it just creeps me out. Why can’t they want to be friends first? Why does it always have to go from being strangers to dating? Gay guys at least want to talk to me, they actually want to be my friends – ”
“If you’re holding out for a guy who is attracted to you, but doesn’t want to date you right off the bat, you’re never going to find a guy. That’s not how guys work. I’m sorry, I see what you’re saying, but since you’re not going to find a guy who meets that criteria, you might as well call yourself a lesbian.”
But calling myself a lesbian would be a lie, I just knew it. Why did I have to find a guy to be bi? Why did my identity depend on whether other people were good enough for me, rather than how I felt?
***
The first time I saw the word “asexual” being used as a sexual orientation label, I was intrigued. People who experience sexual attraction to no one. They could feel romantic attraction and aesthetic attraction, but no sexual attraction.
That sounded very similar to my attraction to men, but not quite on the nose. I was sometimes sexually attracted to men – my girlfriend’s boyfriend, for example – but we had to be close first. Friends. I wasn’t sexually attracted to strangers.
Now that I thought about it, I realized I wasn’t sexually attracted to strangers of any gender. I’d had girlfriends, but we’d been friends first, and they were the only ones I felt sexual attraction for. Because of them, my attraction to women had never been challenged. Was there a term for…attracted to friends regardless of gender?
I did more research and found the word demisexual. It describes sexual attraction that only occurs after an emotional connection is made.
I wasn’t so weird after all. There was even a word for it.
And I wasn’t a lesbian.
I still felt bisexual. Despite everything other people told me, bisexual made sense to me. I saw other demisexual people identify as other labels – demi and gay, demi and straight, and (YES) demi and bi.
I am bisexual. That does not depend on my dating experience or my attraction specifications. It is not affected by my dislike for genitals (of any shape). All it describes is how gender affects attraction for me: it doesn’t. I am attracted to people regardless of gender, and I am bisexual.
Emma Jones is a polyamorous bisexual cis woman who writes (unpublished) queer novels.