Written by *Grace

I came out as bisexual around the age of 21, but I have been slowly (and usually after a few drinks) coming out to friends since I was 17. It took until last year, aged 25, for me to come out to the majority of my family. Overwhelmingly, the reactions have been supportive; a few had always assumed my queerness, but a couple reacted badly and a tiny minority just flat out don’t ‘believe’ in bisexuality. This coming-out journey isn’t particularly remarkable, but the fact that it was all so mundane is a sign of progress, surely, and that it echoes the stories of a lot of my friends is a comfort. However, beginning to date as a bisexual woman opened up a massive can of worms. Giant, glow-in-the-dark worms.

Despite the fact that the majority of young LGBTQIA+ folk identify as bisexual (just under two-thirds in the most recent 2020 survey, from Office for National Statistics), we’re still widely not accepted when it comes to dating – seen as too straight or too gay depending on who you ask. Since the scary moment when I switched my dating profile to ‘interested in everyone’ a few years ago, my love life has completely shifted; for the good and the bad…

Cis men ask me for threesomes more than they ask how I am

In this day and age, you would hope that people see bisexual women as more than just human-sized sex toys or fantasy-fulfillers, but alas, that’s far from the truth. My most common interaction on dating apps as an openly bisexual woman is this: I’ll chat to someone, get on well, they’ll suggest meeting up, and once I agree they’ll drop in that their boyfriend/girlfriend will be joining us. These couples are searching for a ‘unicorn’, aka a bisexual woman who typically sleeps with an existing couple composed of a heterosexual male and bisexual woman. This is fine–I’m not here to kink shame and it’s not something I’m opposed to. What I and other bisexual women I’ve spoken to are opposed to is the deceptiveness. Unless our profiles explicitly ask to be a unicorn or say we’re looking for a threesome, it's upsetting that people assume this is all we want. We’re looking for honest relationships and love like everyone else, not to be a couple’s experiment.

I finally feel free enough to explore my sexuality

For me, online dating has always been easier to navigate than IRL – in bars and clubs that aren’t exclusively queer, it’s hard to approach people without knowing their sexual orientation. Dating apps have provided me with clarity, and the threat of violence isn’t visceral, so it feels safer to exist as my true self.

As a woman, I feel like my whole education in relationships - namely through TV, film, school, and music - has been geared towards heteronormative relationships. I know how to pick up on signals from men, I know how to flirt with men, but learning how to date women has been the equivalent of homeschooling; self-taught and involving lots of trial and error. With dating apps, people’s intentions are clearer – you’ve mutually swiped on one another and matched because there’s an attraction there. The muddied ‘picking up on signals’ part is simplified.

I don’t owe anyone their expectations

Being bisexual means constantly being challenged: “Are you really bi, or are you just a closeted lesbian?”, “You’ve just been tainted by dating bad men, the right one will come along”, “I can understand being sexually attracted to a woman, but I’d never marry a woman”, “You’re so femme though?”. I’ve heard this kind of BS multiple times, and what I’ve finally come to accept and realise is that I don’t owe anyone their expectations of what being bisexual looks like. Because it doesn’t have a look – it’s a sexuality, not a trend. Sure, a lot of memes about the bisexual experience resonate with me, but shared experience isn’t the same as being a stereotype. I don’t have to wear certain clothes, have a nose ring, or only date femme men and masc women – I can present in whichever way I like, and that’s queer enough because I am queer. It isn’t up for debate.

Being your authentic self attracts better partners

I’m currently in a supportive and loving relationship, after many toxic and heartbreaking trials in love, and I think a big part of finding this was entering the relationship as 100% me; not hiding a big part of myself away through fear of not being accepted. I was honest from the first interaction, rather than going in with one foot out the door. Along the way, I’ve been met with some not-so-great reactions to my bisexuality, and although these have been tough, they fundamentally serve me well in the long run. I’m able to weed out the homophobes and bigots early doors.

Coming out as bisexual in my twenties has changed every last thing about my dating life and in turn my life as a whole. I never felt bi ‘enough’ as a teen, even though those feelings were there – and I only knew what it meant to be bisexual in very binary terms. For me, being bisexual is realising that I have the capacity to love people of any gender and that I don’t need to have slept with X amount of women to deserve the label of queer. It isn’t quantifiable and it isn’t up to anyone but me to define my sexuality. It’s the label I’ve found resonates the most, after years of trying on ones that never quite fit. I’ve dated wonderful people, learned to love myself in the process of accepting my sexuality, and broken free of the hetero shackles I grew up chained to.

There’s no time frame for discovering your sexuality, it is fluid and yours. Never feel pressured to come out before you’re ready; when you are, take it at your own pace. Everyone deserves love.

*Name has been changed