If certainty was always the solution, there would be no discoveries.
For an LGBTQIA+ person, June comes clad in pristine colors. Pride parades, marches, symposiums- something that is just usually labelled as “gay propaganda” in the Indian society by our wise greybeards, begin. Gladly so. When I wasn’t vocal about who I am, my way of ‘coming out’ involved a litmus test of who’s an ally and who is not. The ones who could let the words “LGBTQIA+” sink in without staring in bewilderment or giggling in a condescending tone. But I always had a hope, and I dare to call it wild. A wild hope that maybe rainbow wouldn’t always appear after I have shed the rains of anguish, pain, and aloofness. A wild hope that maybe this nymphic combination of colors would touch me, paint me, inundate me, and take me over by such force that I’d fearlessly lose myself in the blinding fervor of its beauty.
Unfortunately, my story hasn’t seen a ‘happy ending’ as of yet. But would it even if I come out? As a person who is still questioning their sexual identity which is mostly bisexual, I have a fear of not fitting into the confines of either LGBTQIA+ designated or straight spaces. While it is acceptable in the LGBTQIA+-designated and certain straight spaces to talk about the fluidity of sexuality, the scope of this discourse is more often than not, limited to the movement from either 'gay to straight' or 'straight to gay.' People such as me, who identify as ‘bisexuals,’ at the first glance, are looked over the shoulder with scepticism of being ‘naturally infidel.’ I do not come within the ambit of this limited notion of fluidity and instead belong to a group of people who do not conform to the strict binary and kind of want to ‘float’ in between. And with this, I introduce to you the most unpopular opinion on this blog as of yet: this post is not for those who haven’t been able to accept LGBTQIA+, but for those LGBTQIA+ folks as well, who have been acting inconsistently (read: hypocritically) with the values of Pride.
As someone who has identified (myself) as “heterosexual” growing up, the thought of coming out makes me question the legitimacy of my feelings back then. I realise that it was real, I did not fake it and neither was it forced. Currently, I’m queer or bisexual or asexual, but this doesn’t make any of my past encounters, less valid or legitimate. I also acknowledge the fact that I might feel differently in the future. I might only get involved with cis-men or someone who’s non-binary or a woman. It’s obvious that experiences for different people vary and I’m not implying that any of this is or isn’t a choice. But all that I am trying to affirm is that one’s sexuality and gender will always count the same regardless of how one came to understand and accept them.
And I am sure it is not only me. All of us who feel an affinity towards the LGBTQIA+ community, begin ‘doubting’ ourselves at some moment. The very notion that we have to be a certain kind of way or cross a certain percentage of being gay or queer is so fundamentally flawed because all we’re doing is wasting our time and energy trying to get into the queer club- to be considered ‘legitimate.’ This gatekeeping becomes all the more redundant with the privileged dominant white cis-male population being at the helm of the law-making process on the global LGBTQIA+ community.
Society's misdiagnosed view of bisexual individuals has led to people from this community being viewed as ‘straight unless proven otherwise,’ even if one’s actions and feelings suggest something else. Society bears a lot of responsibility for the fact that so many bi-people do not feel queer enough to come out but at the same time not heterosexual enough. And it is not only because of patriarchy or orthodoxy. It is also because of uncanny unacceptable hypocrisy some people from the LGBTQIA+ community itself exhibit. So, here’s my deal: do not call yourselves a part of LGBTQIA+ if you don’t advocate for the rights of each and every group therein. Do not call yourselves a part of the community if your feelings are ‘real’ but someone else’s is a mockery point, “not serious enough,” or “undecipherable” to you.
While people who identify as LGBTQIA+ are undeniably persecuted in most parts of the world, at the same time, it is essential that we become more open to addressing sundry aspects in which ‘entitlement’ is embedded within the ever-lengthening acronym even inside the community. It’s important to understand that each time we ridicule the acronym's scale, as though it's a negative thing that more individuals are being involved in a group, we're doing ourselves and the community a disservice and harming each other.
If certainty was always the solution, there would be no discoveries.
In a society in which most people are addicted to the certainty of labels, the fact that they can’t immediately be exclusively categorized as homosexual or heterosexual makes people nervous. I think it makes me nervous too. I end up bearing all the blame for someone else’s assumptions that have little to do with me. I'm sick of telling myself that because I can't and won't simply classify as head-over-heels on one side of the fence, I should have something to hide.
This pride month, let us acknowledge a long-pending awakening. Let us acknowledge that sexuality isn’t mathematics. It is an emotion, not a calculation. You may identify as heterosexual but develop minor feelings towards one person of the same gender. You may be homosexual and still feel attracted towards the opposite gender. You are free to act anyhow you want to because sexuality isn’t ‘inherited’ in your chromosomes.
The history behind one’s identity and who they are continues to build, change and evolve regardless of the societal norms that would rather shove everyone into the easily checkable boxes. Complexity is not a bad thing neither is having an identity that isn’t easy to categorize. I have realized that there is no checklist that can determine whether or not I am bisexual. I can choose to identify my sexuality in whatever way empowers me, regardless of the gender I am attracted to. It doesn’t need to be approved by anyone else to be ‘authentic.’
As a matter of fact, no one’s approval will make me #prouderaboutpride. We are on a rollercoaster that just ascends the trajectory of acceptance. My identity is valid. And so is everyone’s who doesn’t feel like they fit in or want to fit in. I trust that, and I am sure, one day, unconditionally everyone else will. I have a hope. And I dare to call it wild.
This post has been contributed by an author who prefers to be known by their pen name Tavi.