Never has she felt it so keenly until today

Oh gee, a new piece on Orlando that rivals Mariella Mosthof’s for terribleness.

When I read about Orlando, I was surrounded by straight people. Well meaning straight people, yes, allies, yes, but straight people all the same.

I was surrounded by straight people because I was at my house with my husband and my daughter. I spend a lot of time around straight people (thats what I get for marrying a cishet man), but I noticed it more today than I have any other morning. When I heard the news, I started counting down the time until I could be around queer people.

No doubt the apparent distaste for and disapproval of her own husband and daughter are meant partly facetiously, and yet…she’s basically serious.

Being a bi woman means occupying a lot of weird liminal space. In that way we are very queer….we don’t fit well into boxes. Too gay to be straight, too straight to be gay, we are often locked out of the resources and support meant for the queer community due to biphobia and erasure while being pornified and objectified by the patriarchal male gaze of heteronormative culture. It’s no wonder that bi women are suffering from such a serious mental health crisis.

Blah blah blah, me me me, aren’t I fascinating. Ima get to Orlando any minute now but first, note how fascinating I am.

Being bi comes with the double edged sword of “passing.” Because I’m married to a man, and because of my high femme gender presentation, most people will assume I am straight.

Oh no, she struggles under the crippling burden of…Assumed Straight. That must be awful.

But the horrible thing about “passing privilege” is the closeting, the erasure. And never have I felt that so keenly as I feel it today while I mourn Orlando.

Ah. Never has she felt the horror of “erasure” so keenly as now, because of the slaughter of 49 people in Orlando. Never has her sense of narcissistic injury bitten so deep as it has today when she makes Orlando somehow about her.

“Passing privilege combined” with bi erasure and femme invisibility means that unless I tell someone “I’m queer” they will probably assume I’m straight. It means that when I come out to people, they don’t get it, I don’t fit the narrative they are used to hearing. It means straight people make jokes about “Spring Break” or “Katie Perry”. It means straight men ask if they can watch. It means that people, both gay and straight, DON’T BELIEVE ME when I say I’m gay. It means coming out over and over and over and over again…sometimes to the same person. It means I get dragged back into the closet every damn day. It hurts every time, but today in light of this already bleeding wound, biphobia and erasure is excruciating.

It’s all.about.her.

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