LGBTQ+

Hop for Visibility, Awareness and Equality

Gender Identity, LGBTQ+, Sexuality and Gender, Writing

Today is the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia. I’m participating in a blog hop for equality and awareness, plus I’m giving something away for free! (Stay tuned.) Here’s the official site for the hop: http://hopforvisibilityawarenessandequality.blogspot.com/

In case anyone in my life hasn’t been paying attention to anything I’ve written over the last several years, here’s a brief summary: I identify as queer, and within that, I’m bi and gender…something. I’ll get to that. First, though, let me say that while I use queer as a specific identity word, I do not use it as an umbrella term. Too many in my QUILTBAG family have had that word used as hate speech, and they are not able to reclaim it for themselves. Out of respect, I don’t use it unless it’s for myself or a specific thing (queer theology; queer theory; queer literature).

There are people who might want to know why I use the term bisexual. For me, it’s political: it’s an alignment with a movement and a community. I don’t feel that the word is limiting in describing my orientation, and this definition from the wonderful Robyn Ochs (I met her last year, and she is exactly as delightful in person as she is online):

I call myself bisexual because I acknowledge that I have in myself the potential to be attracted – romantically and/or sexually – to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree.

In a practical sense, I’m married. To a dude. A cisgender (i.e., not trans) heterosexual dude. We even have biological children together. So once again, a lot of people might ask, “And how, exactly, does that make you queer, O Heteronormative-Appearing One?”

And here is what I would say to that: Bisexuality is like writing a story. I have a current project, but just because I’m working on one thing doesn’t mean I don’t have other ideas going on in my head. There is always potential for those other stories. That does not mean I’m going to write them at the same time or that I will give up my current project to work on something else. (Of course, if my current project and I agree that it’s cool to open a new document, well, that’s for us to know and isn’t anyone else’s concern.) Bisexuality is not about what (or who) I’m doing right now at this moment; it’s about who I have the capacity to love.

As for gender, that’s a whole story in itself. I’ve never identified with womanhood or what I sensed that should be. It’s not about femininity; it’s something different, deeper. I don’t know what to call it. Some might suggest I’m gender fluid or another specific word, but I’ve never found one I like. So I simply leave it as “my gender is me.” Unlike many trans folk, I don’t have a set pronoun preference. I don’t object to she/her, mainly because I don’t think male should be the default and because sometimes it’s safer not to correct people (hey there, bathroom bill, I see you). I like they because sometimes my gender feels like a whole other person. When I write, I usually use other neutral pronouns (typically ze/hir) because when you write about relationships, it can be tricky to write they as both singular and plural and not get confused (your mileage may vary on that one). The only ones I don’t like are he/him. But no one has ever used those on me, so I think we’re good.

The ways in which identity affects my own life are…well, I’ve had my share of weird biphobia. It’s mainly creepy men who think it’s cool to send me PMs discussing my sex life. It affects my writing in that I’m always seeking more visibility. I’ve certainly experienced a fair share of biphobia for daring to write stories in which OMG HET SEX ON PAGE! Other than that, though, the big thing is with my kids. Being out and proud has made a difference in how I parent them. I’m so proud of who they are becoming, and I’m honored to be their mom (yes, I still use that term).

Hey, if you made it this far, thanks for reading. I’m giving away a FREE copy of my 2015 novel, Passing on Faith, plus an exclusive, never-before-seen bonus companion short story. If you want to be the first one to read it, enter the giveaway.

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Here is the long and wonderful list of bloggers participating in the hop today. Show them some love by visiting and leaving comments. You’ll find all sorts of good stuff, including other giveaways.

B.A. Brock

Jamie Fessenden

Rory Ni Coileain

Erica Pike (M/M)

Andrew Jericho (GAY)

Tempeste O’Riley (M/M)

The Macaronis [various]

Elizabeth Varlet (M/M, BI, NB)

Raven J. Spencer

Sharing Links and Wisdom (REV)

Lisa Horan (REV/Multi)

Archer Kay Leah (M/M, F/F, TR, NB, BI, ACE)

Angel Martinez (M/M GAY BI TR)

Amelia Bishop (MULTI)

Moonbeams over Atlanta – Eloreen Moon (MM, REV, MULTI)

Helena Stone (M/M )

AM Leibowitz (M/M, F/F, BI, TR, NB, REV)

L.D. Blakeley (M/M, BI)

Lila Leigh Hunter [M/M, BI]

Sharon Bidwell

Nicole Dennis (M/M, ACE, M/M/F)

Lexi Ander

Barbara G.Tarn (M/M, ACE)

Kaje Harper M/M, TR, BI

Jacintha Topaz (BI, F/F, M/M, TR)

Prism Book Alliance® (MULTI)

Eva Lefoy (M/M, F/F, F/M/F, BI, MULTI)

Sharita Lira writing as BLMorticia M/M

Barbara Winkes (LES)

Bronwyn Heeley (m/m)

L. J. LaBarthe

VJ Summers (m/m, m/m/f)

Nikka Michaels (M/M)

Caraway Carter (LGBT)

L M Somerton (M/M)

Taylor Law (GAY)

Anastasia Vitsky (F/F, TR, BI)

Draven St. James (M/M)

A.V. Sanders (GAY, ACE, NB)

M. LeAnne Phoenix M/M F/F

Cherie Noel (M/M)

Chris McHart (M/M, Bi, Trans)

Dear Heather: You Don’t Speak for Everyone

LGBTQ+, Relationships

I should be writing other things. I should be creating new fiction or writing the blog posts I owe for my publisher’s upcoming anthology or at least finishing my series on bi representation. Instead, I’m sitting here seething at how Heather Barwick thinks she can speak for an entire community of people based on her personal views and experiences.

No, thanks.

She starts off with, “Gay community, I am your daughter.” No, she isn’t. She is the daughter of one person who is part of the lgbtq community. One (and her partner). Heather’s experiences and feelings cannot be used to describe what every person thinks or feels.

She goes on to explain how the “nature” of same-sex relationships make them bad for children, so she’s against gay marriage. There are so many wrong assumptions in that I’m not even sure where to begin. The sad truth is that this can and will be used by opponents of same-sex marriage to deny people’s rights, and anyone who dares disagree with Ms. Barwick is clearly a hateful person perpetrating “reverse discrimination” against opponents of marriage equality.

Here are the problems with her argument:

1. Her opening language leaves a lot to be desired. She has co-opted the phrase “coming out,” perhaps to get same-sex couples’ attention. That speaks to just how little she understands the closet and its implications. Heather cannot possibly believe she is going to be threatened in the same way that lgbtq people are when we come out. These are not equivalent.

2. She assumes all marriages are for the purpose of raising children. That negates the lives of any couple of any orientation who have chosen not to parent for whatever reason. She also assumes that all couples of any orientation who choose to have children are or want to be married. While marriage and having children often go hand-in-hand, that is not necessarily true across the board. Even her own mothers couldn’t possibly have been legally married while raising her. Denying same-sex marriages won’t prevent same-sex couples from parenting, and making them legal won’t automatically lead to parenting.

3. She assumes that the purpose of same-sex marriage is to “imitate” opposite sex “normal” marriage. Not quite. There are two things I dislike when discussing marriage equality: one, having it dismissed as “heteronormative”; two, having it celebrated as “heteronormative.” When two queer people get married or one queer person marries a cis-het person, their marriage is inherently queer. We can have a conversation about the problems that are not being addressed regarding legal marriages in general. However, there is something fantastically subversive about queer marriage. Patriarchal structures be damned—we are going to live out our relationships in ways that look like us, not like something out of last century (or earlier). When queer parents get married, it isn’t for the purpose of replacing a child’s mother or father any more than a cis-het remarriage is an attempt at finding another parent for a child. When same-sex partners choose to get married and/or have children together, it’s because they want to do those things, not because they want to play cis-het house.

4. She assumes all same-sex couples “withhold” adults of other genders, specifically the other parent. It’s not clear whether her own father stayed away because he didn’t like being a father, because he was angry at his ex, or because his ex barred him from contact. She cannot speak for anyone but herself and has absolutely no idea what other families do or don’t do.

5. She picks out same-sex couples specifically to blame. Instead of saying she wished her parents had done a better job of providing for her emotional and relational needs, she chalks it up to her mother and stepmother being lesbians. Interestingly, she uses the same language conservatives use to “prove” feminists are separatists who think men are unnecessary. There are opposite-sex couples who do a piss-poor job of raising their kids too, including keeping their children from being involved with their other parent. Yet no one is blaming heterosexuality. Maybe we should.

6. She demands some kind of honesty from other children of gay parents as though she can speak for them. She mentions divorce and adoption as having aspects that can be tough on kids, and there’s truth to that. It can be hard (in multiple ways) to be the child of queer parents. I fully expect my own kids to one day have questions and want to talk about ways I failed them. Being honest doesn’t necessarily mean opposing any of those things, though. It means simply being honest about what was hard and what was good. The big difference here is that Ms. Barwick is saying same-sex couples should not be able to marry or parent, but she is not saying divorce and adoption should be illegal.

It would be unfair to dismiss Heather Barwick’s life experiences as invalid. That is not what I’m trying to do. I’m exposing the problems in the way she’s chosen to scapegoat an entire community. Instead of telling her story about the challenges she faced growing up, she’s decided to apply it to all same-sex couples/families and make assumptions. She’s using it to stand against marriage, which doesn’t even particularly have anything to do with her situation anyway. The whole time, she says how much she “loves” gay people—so much that she wants to deny rights to same-sex couples, apparently. That’s a pretty funny way of showing love.

Real men are…

Dance, Feminism, LGBTQ+, Women

A few days ago, I came across a photo posted to one of the pages I follow on Facebook. For some context, this was in response to a previous photo meme about boys who take ballet growing up to be strong, healthy, and surrounded by women. I found the original meme funny, as the mom of a boy who takes ballet, tap, jazz, and Irish dance and seems to have no problem at all being the only boy in most of his classes.

The comments on the original photo included some by a few men who posted that boys who take ballet will turn out to be gay (they used words I prefer not to share here, thanks). Another commenter posted his photo with this caption:

Now, I have no problem at all with whoever wants to take dance classes. I’m very happy for Jason Whoever and his dancing feet. What I do have a problem with is how this is framed. It puts a certain kind of masculinity at the top, emphasizing a stereotype of manhood: physically strong, muscular, interested in culturally-approved manly pursuits such as rock music, and employed in a culturally-approved masculine job.

In other words, it’s perfectly fine for boys to take ballet so long as they turn out to be like him: not gay and not too feminine.

As much fun as it is to punch the air and go, “Take that, haters! Look at this badass dude!” it’s ultimately not the most helpful response. It’s still rooted in both homophobia and misogyny.

Because of my work as an author, editor, and reviewer, I see this all the time, especially in m/m fiction. It’s one of my pet peeves—men who assert their manliness page after page. This is done in a multitude of ways:

Large, muscular bodies
“Manly” jobs or hobbies (military/police/fire, sports, rock music, anything that requires a power suit)
Large penises (sometimes even in works that aren’t sexually explicit)
Emotionless, incapable of expressing emotions, or limited to anger and arousal
Sexually insatiable (again, this is even sometimes true outside erotica)
Literally telling us they are men, often repeatedly (especially if they don’t meet one of the previous criteria)
Disgusted, bothered, or simply not interested in other men who don’t fit the above
Disgusted, bothered, or explicitly not interested in jobs or pursuits perceived as “feminine”
Biphobic and transphobic
Openly misogynistic and directly hostile toward female-identified characters

It’s not the first two things on the list that bother me. Are there muscular, culturally masculine gay and bi men? Yes, of course there are. In fact, I love that they are part of the total picture because there’s a tendency for straight people to think they don’t exist. Showing athletes and hero-types is a way of breaking down a certain type of barrier. In and of itself, that’s not the problem. It’s the lack of diversity and the disdain for men outside those boxes that disturbs me. When it becomes the ideal, not merely one representation, it feeds into other forms of misogyny and queer antagonism.

The same is true when talking about men in the arts, especially dance and theater. It’s fantastic that tough military men and powerful football players have taken ballet classes, but they are not the reason it’s acceptable for boys to dance.

Imagine being a boy who takes ballet and sees something implying he must grow up to be a certain type of man or he will surely “turn out gay.” That pretty much hurts every boy who takes dance class ever, including the ones who are destined to be big, muscular military men. It implies there’s something very, very wrong with being gay or more feminine or even just not built like a linebacker; it erases bisexual men entirely; and it implies that those who are wired toward cultural masculinity cannot possibly be gay (or even just enjoy culturally feminine pursuits). No one wins in that scenario.

At what point will we stop defending certain hobbies and jobs on the grounds that they’re not too gay or too feminine because big, tough men do them? When will being gay and/or culturally feminine be considered just as awesome as being culturally masculine? The only good answer to “But he’ll turn out gay!” is to say, “So what?” and leave it there.

Own Your Exclusivity

LGBTQ+, Women

After a fellow author commented on her frustrations with “lgbt” review sites that really only review m/m (gay) books, I was reminded again how much I hate the way so much of our community is geared toward or based on gay men—and a very narrow subset of them at that.

There is nothing wrong with exclusivity by itself. Why shouldn’t upper-middle-class white gay cis men have things to read and relate to? That’s really not a big deal in isolation. It’s not good for anyone to only experience the perspective of their own group (and this is really not a problem for people outside the dominant culture). However, everyone wants to see people they relate to.

The real problem is when that group assumes their narrative applies to everyone. This applies to publications, review sites, books, and television. On the surface and in name, the whole rainbow is supposedly represented. Yet there’s an unspoken agreement that one group speaks for all of us.

When we challenge it—when those of us not represented stand up to it—we’re told it shouldn’t matter or that we’re bullies or biased or being unfair. When we talk about the overt misogyny found in m/m romance or the fact that The Advocate relegates women, bisexuals, and trans people (but not men) to subsets or the way activism fixates on the ways religious bigotry hurts gay men*, we’re suddenly the problem.

My least favorite response to this has been, “But it’s to increase acceptance of gay and bi men because society already is okay with lesbians and bi women.” No. Society objectifies us; that’s not acceptance. Also, no word on how that even remotely helps trans people become more visible and accepted. We’re rendered invisible in queer lit and media unless we make ourselves seen, just as all of us are in our wider society.

This isn’t some zero-sum game of More Oppressed than Thou. I could probably play my bingo cards on that one all day. That isn’t the point. One group does not deserve more attention than another, and certainly not from supposedly inclusive organizations and media.

If you’re going to call yourself “lgbt,” then BE inclusive. Give equal time to every part of the spectrum. Do not focus on one letter at the exclusion of the others or even more heavily than the others. Otherwise, call yourself by the one (or possibly two) letters you represent and own your exclusivity. That way, those of us not in your scope will know to avoid you.

*See the recent furor over “My Husband’s Not Gay,” the upcoming TLC show about “not gay” married Mormon men. Wonder where a similar show about “My Wife’s Not a Lesbian” is. It’s assumed that women are never put in therapy to become “straight” or that ex-gay therapy is the only/most harmful thing that could happen to a person. I guess being pressured/coerced/forced into marriage and expected to be sexually available doesn’t really count. Maybe it’s assumed women in religious cultures don’t want sex anyway and have to be convinced to do it, so there’s no extra level of harm to a woman who isn’t straight. Or maybe it’s assumed that women can “fake it” more easily because a woman doesn’t need to be aroused to have sex with her husband. Don’t even get me started on “therapy” for trans people, which is undeniably just as bad as any ex-gay therapy.

And they’ll know we are Christians…

Faith and Spirituality, LGBTQ+, Social Justice

Last night, I read this post: An open letter to non-affirming Christians. It’s fantastic, and I think you should all go read it before you continue here. I’ll wait; I’m a very patient person.

Back? Good. Nathan Barber summed it up pretty nicely, but I think I’d like to take it further. He mentioned a video (which he didn’t link and neither will I) of a pastor fueled by hate calling for the execution of gay people. It’s pretty special; I don’t recommend watching it and giving that man any more traffic unless you have a really strong stomach or you’ve been practicing a hell of a lot of meditation lately and are feeling pretty chill. It’s guaranteed to make the average person seethe.

Which I think is sort of what Barber was getting at—it apparently didn’t make all that many non-affirming Christians particularly upset. Heck, it barely registered among my affirming friends. That’s a bit disappointing, to say the least. I get it, though. Most of my affirming friends were—like me—too repulsed to watch and definitely too repulsed to share it. Maybe I should be grateful no one I know shared it with any kind of agreement (or were at the very least too polite to voice their agreement, I suppose?).

Barber wonders where all the non-affirming Christians were in speaking out against the video. While I wonder that too, I want to take that further. Where are you all who say you “love” lgbtq people when 40% of homeless youth are part of that demographic? Where are you when someone you know (because surely the parents of these expelled-from-home teenagers have friends) kicks their child out? Where are you when people are beaten to death or shot while seeking help? Where are you when 12-year-old children take their own lives because they face hate every damn day at school? Where is your outrage that people you say are beloved children of God are literally dying because of their identity?

You are nowhere to be found.

This is not some isolated incident of a hateful pastor you can pass off as “not a real Christian” (which is a ridiculous argument anyway— your own teachings that “by faith alone we are saved” make that a lie). This is something that permeates the non-affirming portion of Christianity.

I know where you are: Many of you are busy blaming the victims. You wonder why the parents of a young child would let that child dress or act in a way that “invites” bullying. You think a little “tough love” might result in an end to teenage rebellion, and it’s unfortunate when the adolescent doesn’t listen. You’re sure that suicide is just an unfortunate side effect of an unrepentant heart. You don’t really believe the attacks are hate crimes (this applies to race-related crimes, too). You don’t care whether the victim identifies as lgbtq anyway (for the record, neither do I, but you seem content to make assumptions I believe are irrelevant).

I’ve heard it. I’ve heard you tell others they can’t be true Christians and fully love, support, and affirm lgbtq people (or be lgbtq people). After all, God’s love only goes so far, right? God loves us, but not our sin. This is all terrible and tragic, of course, but if only lgbtq people would turn from our sin and trust God, this would all go away. The suffering would end if we just stopped bringing it on ourselves by being…well, ourselves.

Where I probably (maybe?) disagree with Nathan Barber is in saying it suffices to make a simple statement that hateful pastors don’t speak for you. I don’t believe it does. If you really, truly “love” your lgbtq brothers and sisters, show us. Do something. Talk your friend out of kicking out their child or make space in your own home. Make sure your children know that anti-gay bullying is not ever, ever acceptable. Speak up when you see a hate crime and tell us that’s not what Jesus would do or want. Just don’t sit there in comfortable silence, content to nod your head that yes, you do in fact really, actually love lgbtq people (while simultaneously obsessing over the sex you think we might be having).

Let me address you, too, affirming Christians. You seem to think it’s okay to “live and let live,” that this is a simple matter of theological difference. You’re happy to suggest the non-affirming folks are just living out what they genuinely believe is right. I get that; I don’t want to have big debates over interpretation of the Bible either. But let me ask you this: what are you doing about the ongoing culture of hatred toward lgbtq people? Are you, in fact, doing any more than your non-affirming counterparts to combat youth homelessness and hate crimes? If not, take a good, long look at yourselves and ask if you are as affirming as you think you are.

You could easily pass off Reverend Awful as unhinged and not worthy of your time. But can you so easily and callously pass off the ordinary, everyday aggressions against lgbtq people? I sure hope not, for the sake of those left scarred by your thoughtless non-actions.

Ten Reasons Some Bisexual Women Aren’t Impressed with Your List

LGBTQ+, Sexuality and Gender, Women

It’s not often anymore that I’m compelled to write a response to someone being obnoxious online. I have better things to do with my time these days, like plotting my next novel and/or world domination. This one, though, really irritated me: 10 Reasons I Am Thankful for Bisexual Women. From the constant referral to grown-ass women as “girls” to the objectification of our bodies, I don’t find it complimentary at all. I get that some people will probably just think I have no sense of humor. Feel free, but in the meantime, let me explain what tripped my gross-o-meter, point by point.

1. “They’re everywhere. Literally, everywhere.”

You know how all the studies say that gay people make up something like 3-4 percent of the population or some crazy low number like that? (I mean I think it’s more like 20 percent but that’s another conversation). At any rate, given that sexuality is clearly a bell curve, it follows that roughly 50 percent of the population is bisexual.

Someone needs to go back to statistics and sociology class. Since when is sexuality on a bell curve? I’ve never, ever heard anyone who studies these things say that. But even if it’s true in some sense, 50% of the population is grossly inflated. I believe she’s confusing the statistic that says 50% of people not identifying as straight are bisexual. Regardless of her strange statistics, that’s an odd reason to like us. I mean, you like us because you can’t escape us? We’re not the Borg.

2. “They are looking for girls to date on Tinder and OkCupid”

That’s at least true. But she goes on to refer to us as “bisexual unicorns” (kind of at odds with her first point). I’m not quite so bothered by this point, actually, but I’d have to ask my lesbian friends if they find her stereotyping of lesbians to be a problem.

3. “They (often) do not live in the real-life equivalent of The L Word.”

No, we don’t. But are there really that many lesbians and bisexual women who do? And sorry, hon, but it’s not my job to cure your “lesbian bubble” blues by being your token bi friend. (Obviously also not going to be your token bi partner, either, as I’m spoken for.) If you feel trapped in your world, maybe it’s time to break out of it. It’s not someone else’s responsibility—not even with our magical unicorn powers—to make it happen.

4. “They’re fucking gorgeous.”

Well, then. Here we have yet another stereotype.

[L]ooking purely at numbers, there’s a higher chance of finding a beautiful bisexual girl than just about any other type of woman (there are probably more bi girls than straight girls out there too. Just sayin’). And if you like women who are femme/girly/long-haired/fitting-standards-of-traditional-female-beauty etc., you are in even more luck because bi girls tend to be on this end of the gender presentation spectrum. I don’t know why this is. Maybe because they are also open to dating guys and guys tend to go for femme-ier girls? Maybe because some of them live a more outwardly heteronormative existence?

Oh, dear lord. We are all over the map. Some things to ponder:

We’re not all in our twenties (even those of us who are single)
We’re not all Hollywood beautiful
We’re not all femme (not by a long shot)
Plenty of men actually like butch women, and not all men who date women are straight (what happened to your 50% statistic? Applies to men too, right?)
“Outwardly heteronormative”? Seriously? Fuck right off. Being married to or dating men doesn’t make us “heteronormative” anything, given the fact that we’re not hetero.

Great that she goes on to say that masculine, androgynous, and feminine women are sexy, but the whole previous paragraph is just kind of weird and doesn’t back that up. She follows that with saying bi women also find those gender presentations sexy…but we’re apparently not allowed to actually present that way ourselves, only enjoy them on other women. Ick.

5. “They’re everything you love about straight women, but they also have a gritty gay-ish edge to them and want to sleep with you.”

So we get to be your straight-girl-fetish-crush? I don’t think so. Are some bi women like this? Yes. But what the hell is a “gritty gay-ish edge” and why do we need to have it? Can’t we just be, you know, bisexual women? Do we actually need to be “gay-ish”? That smacks of calling us “half-queer.”

I can’t even deal with the long list of stereotypes of both lesbian and bi women which follow this bullet point. How could I possibly measure up if I’m supposed to have long, shiny hair that I like to curl, a perfectly waxed and manicured body, and be “proficient” at any or all of these: cooking, baking, sewing, styling hair, styling clothes, hosting dinner parties, wrapping gifts, handwriting letters, staying in shape, interior design, listening, nurturing, gardening?

She refers to all of that as “straight-girl characteristics.” Apparently, there are no lesbians ever—anywhere—who like or do those things. Also, may I remind everyone once again that bi women are not straight? We don’t have “straight-girl characteristics.” We have our own characteristics. For me, not one of those includes having been a tomboy, liking to get dirty, or chugging beer. It also doesn’t include most things people think are feminine.

This phrase says it all:

I do not care that this list is horribly reductive and relies completely on gender stereotypes about (straight) women.

Obviously.

6. “They kick ass in bed.”

Oh, we’re “fast learners,” eh? Because we must be taught the fine art of sex by lesbians, of course. We never, ever have sex with each other, and we’re never, ever the more experienced partner. Also, I’m pretty sure a person who doesn’t have or enjoy sex with men isn’t the best judge of whether it’s better. Bi women admitting to the person they’re having sex with that it’s “better” may or may not simply be trying not to hurt their current partner’s feelings. Bi women telling their lesbian friends that sex with women is better may or may not be trying to fit in or feel legit.

7. “Their sexuality doesn’t envelope their whole world. They tend to see people as people and not sexuality labels.”

This is partly true. It’s also true that we have our labels shamed, controlled, and constantly redefined by people who are not us. Many of us are writers, activists, academics, and more, and we have an investment in bi visibility. There are also plenty of lesbians (and other sexualities) who don’t really care about those things. No group is a monolith.

8. They’ll totally get along with your parents.

This one really sticks in my craw. First, it’s yet another stereotype of men and women. Second, it’s an assumption that all parents are straight (because they’re married to each other! Men! And women! STRAIGHT!). No parents, ever, have been bi and not out to their kids, right? Third, what the everliving fuck:

Bi girls can shoot the shit about football with your dad while also bonding with your mom about girly ass stuff like baby showers.

I don’t really like football. My father–in-law does, but I doubt a conversation with him about it would go well. I can think of at least two dozen other topics I’d rather discuss with him (I do love my FIL) that we would both enjoy a lot more. I also don’t think a conversation about baby showers would go over with my mother-in-law (who is among the least “girly” women I know). It would look like this:

Me: So…baby showers.

She: Ayup.

Once again, I can think of lots of things we could talk about that would be fun for us both. Perhaps getting to know people as, you know, people would help rather than stereotyping them and trying to fit ourselves in boxes.

9. “As friends, they make excellent sounding boards for your lesbian woes without being too heavily biased but yet still completely getting it.”

Okay, I agree with this one, to an extent. I still think it relies on the idea that we make good friends but lousy lovers, but this is something I think is pretty awesome:

They know how much it sucks to be judged and they know how important it is to rely on your own feelings and self-identification than to be policed by both the gay and straight worlds.

A-freaking-men. Yes. We get policed all the damn time. I may hate the rest of this list, but that one sentence nearly makes up for the rest of the shit.

10. “They are NOT going to leave you for a guy.”

Oh, fine. I like this one, too. I happen to have married a man, but if I’d married a woman, I wouldn’t be contemplating leaving because I missed men any more than I’m contemplating leaving my husband for a woman. It doesn’t really work like that. Cheaters cheat regardless; relationships end for many reasons; and commitment isn’t dependent on gender or sexuality. I’d like to see the whole list reduced to this one bullet point, actually. (Though I would argue this isn’t a reason to be thankful for bi women. It’s simply a statement of fact.)

With the exception of the last point (and maybe the one before it), this is a pointless way to be a bi ally. It’s just another way in which (ironically, given the quote under #9) we have to defend ourselves as legitimate queer-spectrum people. Instead of misguided attempts at standing up for us, how about allowing our voices to be heard and amplifying them? Tweet us. Reblog us. Share our work. But don’t ever, ever reduce us to a list based on your own personal preferences and stereotypes.

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