At the very least bisexual

Yesterday, I brought something up with other bisexual writers that I’d noticed a few times and wasn’t sure what to make of it. There wasn’t a consensus on whether it’s really an issue, but I wanted to get my thoughts out anyway.

There is a phrase I’ve seen popping up in books lately. It’s become overused, like “her smile didn’t reach her eyes” or “he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.” It’s okay the first couple of times, and then you start seeing it everywhere. I’m sure some of my resistance is to how nauseatingly often it appears.

The phrase is:

He’s gay or at least bi. [emphasis mine]

This bothers me on another level. The “at least” has the feel of bisexuality being some kind of lesser or half queer, like we haven’t quite made it yet. It’s dismissive, as though the writer wanted to be sure to include bisexuality but only as an afterthought. Like they’d almost forgotten we exist (or didn’t quite believe we do). This is particularly upsetting for people who have spent the majority of their time in different-gender/hetero-appearing relationships.

The context for the phrase is usually when a character has entered a same-(cis)gender relationship or when a secondary character is guessing at their sexuality for some other reason. The “some other reason” relies on stereotypes and things that are presumed to be “tells.”

I could probably write an entire post on that last subject, but I’ll leave it at saying you cannot tell someone is gay or bi through observing how they look at people of their same gender. Nor can you tell based on whether their behavior or even their voice are outside of expected gender norms. You can’t. Trying to do so has literally led to people’s deaths, and it contributes to a culture of toxic gender roles. Cut it out.

Anyway, back to “at least bi.” Here’s a bit of writerly advice: Leave out the “at least.” I get it that in some sense, there’s a reluctance to pin a label on someone who hasn’t used one for themselves. But we have no problem using the word gay. The hesitance is regarding the word bisexual.

Most people who are only interested in one gender have some difficulty wrapping their heads around anything outside the binary. Even our allies struggle with it at times. That’s okay! I don’t really understand monosexuality either, so we’re even. (Why do you think I almost exclusively write about bisexual characters?)

There’s an easy fix for this phrase that won’t make you label a character and also might reduce some of the awkwardness. Here are some alternatives:

• He’s gay or bi
• She’s interested in women
• He’s dating a man now
• They’re into in people of more than one gender
• She told me she was attracted to that woman

This week, I’ve run across the phrase “or at least bi” three times in three separate books. I also read an article in which bisexual people were described as “essentially straight.” There’s a distinct lack of understanding that bisexuality is not, at its core, merely about sexual experimentation or still having a foot in the closet or about wanting the perks of being queer without all the overt bigotry. It’s not “gay lite” or a lesser form of queer. Bisexual people have our own unique history, culture, icons, and ways of living as who we are.

It would be awesome for all of that to be recognized rather than shoehorning us into the roles of gay, lesbian, and straight depending on what the story calls for. Throwing out that someone is “at least bi” or passing off a gay-for-you story just by using the word bisexual somewhere in a 300-page novel shows lack of understanding and creativity. A simple rephrasing goes a long way to being sensitive to who might be reading your work.