Double Bind Bogdan Honciuc I’ve long wanted to write an article on bisexuality, about what I had assumed must be the hard life of bisexuals, not knowing that I would be one of them one day. For four months now, to everybody’s surprise (some – please note! – friends used to consider me the perfect gay man), I have been with a woman. A wonderful woman, who is warm, supportive, tender, understanding – in other words, she loves me. Bewildering many people around me, I am determined to go on with this relationship and, more than that, we’ve got engaged. It’s useless to tell you how extravagant this sounded to the others, who, most of them, declared themselves shocked by our move.

My friends know that I simply worship the concept of “private life”, which, by the way, has no appropriate translation in Romanian – or, rather, in the Romanian mentality. In the same way in which, squeezing against each other on the bus, train, or in queues, most Romanians have no idea of the “private space”, that very vital “space” (it doesn’t necessarily have to be physical) that one needs in order to live or travel without stress, the "private life” is doomed – either the neighbours are spying on your every move, or the friends or co-workers are coming up with (unwanted) advice on what to do here and there. It’s hard for me to accept that people who barely know me are “certain” about my true sexual orientation. To be honest, I myself haven’t seriously given it a thought. Given my experience so far (and I don’t mean the sexual experience only), I should say that I am gay. However, because I despise labelling people, I prefer not to. Exactly because, when you least expect it, things change. The Swedish band The Cardigans have a song that I simply adore: “Erase and Rewind”, about the human ability to “erase” the entire past and start a new life. Many of us do not acknowledge this ability that we have, assuming that we’ll only be what we are now.

Let’s clear things out – I am not in favour of changing one’s sexual orientation (I heard that’s impossible anyway). Neither do I want to state that bisexuality is “the way” – that would make me ridiculous, really. What I am in favour of is that we should accept the others as they want themselves to be accepted – regardless of that we (used to) think about them. Let us accept change, if change is what we think we’re dealing with, and one’s private life, refraining from interfering in the other’s personal business.

Coming back to our subject, I have to tell you – it’s been quite embarrassing for me to have a “reversed” coming out, that is to announce the people that I had fallen in love with a woman. I’ve got funny feedback (“Wait a minute, I thought you were gay”) and revolting feedback (“No kidding? I mean, do you f... her?”). Fortunately, there were several persons, who accepted the “change” with no questions asked, which of course was a relief. My girlfriend, nonetheless, had to go through unspeakable experiences, to face some remarks that you will only have to guess.

Almost nobody thinks about how hard this must be for us – for her, as she has to live with the thought (and, sometimes, with the fact) that I happen to look at guys in the street (the same, nevertheless, happens, with straight men who look at women, which is considered perfectly alright), and for me, as I am despised by both straight people for being a homosexual and by enough gays for being heterosexual. Plus, I have to pretend that I don’t hear their malevolent comments and stupid questions. Most of the time I really don’t hear them, because a portable CD player has been my best friend starting a couple of months ago. The fact that I don’t want to hear these questions has nothing to do with my being afraid of giving an answer, because I am not afraid to admit it – I am bisexual. I only refuse to accept that the people (who, by the way, knew that I was gay so they were supposed to be a bit more understanding) are enquiring about my intimacy, about what I do in my bed at night, about who I want to sleep with and about my past. I refuse to accept that these people who were supposed to be tolerant turned out to be intolerant actually, and that they are so violently breaking into my life. I refuse to accept that a straight friend tells me – “Welcome to a normal life”. I refuse to wonder about issues that may ruin my mental heath, just to make things clear for you guys. I now understand better what a bisexual friend of mine was telling me one year ago – “My boyfriend, the “ultimate” gay man, often asks me what I actually am, gay or straight, because this dichotomy make him feel confused. He never wondered how I must feel, how I manage to live with not one, but two sexual orientations...”

It’s the same question that I invite you to ask yourself inasmuch as I am concerned. After you figure out an answer, I do hope that you’ll be reconsidering your attitude towards bisexual people.
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