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Morning tears for humanity

Yesterday I started the day by crying, in bed whilst scrolling through Facebook. My cat thought I was a wee bit insane but snuggled up to my mopey self anyway.

It was this video that had me crying.

I was teary all morning due to this and it wasn’t until I stopped to question myself why this video had affected me the way it had.

And I think it’s because I’ve been there. I’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of hatred before, unjustifiable, unreasoning, un-containable hatred. For loving someone of the same gender. I can’t and don’t understand the blatant anger, hatred and blind rage that it causes in people.

Why does what and who I do in the bedroom matter? Why do people feel the need to tell me that I’m going to a hell that was concocted just for the very reason that people could be subjugated? Why is it ok for people to feel that they have the right to scream abuse at me and my partner while they drive past in their cars? To spit at our feet as they pass us in the street because we were holding hands? To tell us that we’re less than human because we’re in love…

I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. I refuse to get it.

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4

The stigma of bisexuality. Monosexism at it’s best.

Let’s get into this whole bisexual thing. Because apparently it is a “thing”. Or so I keep being told by lesbians. Or straight people. I’ll succumb to my heteronormative rights and hide behind a man apparently.

Or I’m just greedy. I can’t make up my mind. I only act at being gay. People ask me what my orientation is, I say half gay. Queer. I identify more with queer and have for a long time in my life. I don’t fit the lipstick lesbian mould. I don’t fit the butch mould. I have long hair. I wear jeans, cons and wife beaters with bright red lipstick on. I have pink power tools. I wear dresses and heels and sometimes I even grow and paint my  nails. I tie people up and suspend them for my pleasure. And sometimes theirs.

I fall in love with personalities. Not what’s in their pants. I love tits. I love cock. I love the twinkle in a person’s eye when they cotton on to what perverted shit I’ve whispered in their ear. What’s hiding behind their clothing has never been an issue for me.

Does this make me any less slutty? No. I own my inner slut. We’re on reaaaaaaaaaaaaally good terms. In fact, we’ve had a lot of fun together over the years and I’m not ashamed of it. Bless her. She’s made me a better person. However just because I’m bisexual hasn’t meant that it’s caused me to be promiscuous. I have never cheated on a partner. I’ve had them cheat on me though. What I learnt from those experiences is that I prefer brutal honesty in a relationship instead of lies and deceit. You want to fuck someone? Sure, let me know, most times I’m not going to give a flying fuck about who you want to stick what into long as you keep it safe. Lie to me and I walk. There are no second chances with that.

When I’m single I’m up for a lot. Because why the hell shouldn’t I indulge in my fantasy’s? They are healthy. And like my wank fodder up there, I happily take on more than one. But that doesn’t mean that when I’m in a relationship I’m somehow lacking. I bring it to the table, do you?

So let’s start with what bisexuality means, dictionary wise.

bi·sex·u·al

[bahy-sek-shoo-uhl]

adjective

1. Biology:

a. of both sexes.
b. combining male and female organs in one individual; hermaphroditic.

2. sexually responsive to both sexes; ambisexual.

Then let’s talk about monosexism. What is monosexism?

Monosexism is synonymous with biphobia in many ways because it perpetuates the myth that a person can only truly be attracted to one gender. Monosexists reinforce binary thinking through their insistence that orientation is confined to the two polarities of either straight or gay. – Erin Tatum – Everyday Femisim Article

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