I'm From Driftwood

A very pregnant Evan Rachel Wood stepped out onto the red carpet at New York’s Triceca Film Festival this week to promote her latest flick, a romantic comedy written by and costarring Justin Long, titled A Case of You. 

by Heather Murphy

1.) I am a woman. 2.) I am married to a man. 3.) I work to defend queer youth rights and fight victimization. 4.) I am queer. 5.) I am bisexual. Most people hear the first two and assume that I am straight. They hear the third and wonder why a straight woman is working for the queer community. They hear the fourth and are confused. And when they hear the fifth, it all comes together in an eye roll. Bi-ignorance and bi-phobia are issues that I deal with every day of my life.

When I say that I am a woman, I mean female biologically and in my gender expression. On the continuum of gender expression, I mostly reside on the feminine side. I like to wear dresses with high heals, make-up and jewelry, carry a purse, shop at Victoria’s Secret, and get my nails done. There are of course the days that I am in men’s basketball shorts and wear my hair up to where it is shaved on the underside, but most people take one look at me and think that I am very feminine. When I first began working with queer youth, one of the questions I was asked was, “You don’t identify do you?” These kinds of assumptions followed me all the way to a date with a woman who actually asked me on the date if I were gay. I grew so tired of this that I decided I would change my appearance so that people could take one look at me and know that I was queer. I cut and buzzed my hair. I then had my nails taken off and I stopped wearing the dresses and carrying a purse. I completely altered how I looked, and it worked. I could walk into a room of queer people and no longer felt like an imposter. I was no longer asked questions of why I chose the line of work that I did. I felt completely accepted into the gay community. Only one problem, I hated to look in the mirror. I was feeling forced to express my gender in a way that was contrary to who I was, just to feel accepted. But even all that change to my gender expression was still not enough.

I could only get so far in the queer community based on my altered gender expression because it would all change the moment I said that I was bisexual. Once those words escaped by mouth, the bi-phobia from within the community would emerge. I had women not want to date me because I was tainted having been with a man. I was told that bisexuality did not exist; you were either one way or another. I stopped identifying as bisexual and started calling myself queer. I avoided ever talking about an ex-boyfriend and stopped seeing a lot of my straight friends. I felt like some sort of mutt, trying to hide my straight side and displaying only my gay pedigree. I couldn’t escape the bi-phobia. I would try to watch the L Word, hoping to see a bisexual character that I could identify with, but instead would watch her being asked to “make up her mind.” Several seasons later, she started identifying as a lesbian. I gave up the losing battle against other’s bi-phobia and realized the only thing left to do was fully embrace within myself being bisexual.

Embracing who I was felt good, and I started to date a wonderful woman who was supportive of my identity and encouraged me to put back on the dresses and high heals. I began to call myself bisexual again, this time with pride. I stopped thinking of myself in terms of my gay side and my straight side and realized that I was letting other’s perceptions cause me to divide myself. I came to realize that I wasn’t one-half gay, one-half straight, that I was all bisexual.

That relationship came to an end and the next person that I met was a man. Falling in love with and being in a serious relationship with a man brought back all of my insecurities. How could I bring him now into my queer world? He was fully accepting and wanted to go with me to my usual places, but I felt ashamed. I imagined eyes glaring at me, questioning me. It only got worse when he asked me to marry him.

Marriage was a hard decision for me. On one hand, it was a “no-brainer,” he was and is the love of my life. On the other hand, I felt like a hypocrite marrying when if by chance I had fallen in love with a woman, then marriage would not have even been an option. It was a long process to come to a place where I felt comfortable accepting the proposal. I discussed this at length with my queer family and friends. They told me that denying myself marriage, although a noble gesture, really did them no good. In fact, they said that they would rather see me happy and were glad that I had this opportunity. The general consensus was, why have one more suffering queer person out there if they don’t have to be? One optimistic friend told me that her time would be coming soon. A lesbian friend performed the marriage ceremony, and I felt as though I had the queer community’s blessing. All of my family and friends, both straight and gay, were there to help me celebrate.

Being married only added to my feelings of queer invisibility. When I talk about my husband, everyone assumes that I am straight. Add that to my feminine gender expression, and there is no doubt in anyone’s mind. I actually had a queer coworker complain to me that she was the only queer person at our work. I find myself wanting to scream out in meetings or in circles of new friends, “I’m queer!” It is funny because one of the criticisms I have heard of bisexuals is how easy we can blend into heterosexual society. If only those who made such statements knew how desperate I am to not fit in, to be noticed and recognized for who I am.

And who I am is bisexual. When I was with girlfriends, I was bisexual. Currently married to my husband, I am still bisexual. From my morning shower to brushing my teeth at bedtime, I am bisexual. It was never a phase, never a thing I did in college, never something for fun. It isn’t an identity that I tried on like a party hat. It was and is who I am. I don’t need to make up my mind. My mind, heart, body, and soul have been made up for a long time. I am bisexual.

I recently said to a young girl who proudly exclaimed that she is bisexual to be prepared, that it is a hard road. I hope that when she reaches my age, the bi-ignorance and bi-phobia will have dissipated. In the meantime, I will strive to educate all those whom I come in contact with that a person can be 1.) A woman. 2.) Married to a man. 3.) Work to defend queer youth rights and fight victimization. 4.) Queer. 5.) Bisexual.

-(Share your story with us!)

by Rebecca

Looking back, I remember not always feeling “normal.” In elementary school I wasn’t very pretty, and I had a few good friends, which I still have today. As soon as I was in fifth grade, I was a lot more sociable and comfortable with my looks. But that’s not why I’m writing this. See when I was in fifth grade I felt different. Not as in my religion, my looks, or my friends. But my attractions to girls.

I didn’t know what lesbian, or bisexual at the time was, but I was still young and growing. In fifth grade I had my first kiss. It was special and different; it was my first kiss with a girl. Yes a girl. It felt right to me. As I went through middle school I ignored a lot of my feelings. Because by this time I was told that being gay or bisexual was a sin and not excepted in society. I was pretty much being brainwashed, but I didn’t believe what anyone with hate said. I knew I was made just the way I am for a reason, and that I’m perfect being who I am. That was all 5 years ago. Here I am a sophomore in high school. Freshman year I came out saying I didn’t find women more attractive than men, and that at that current time I did have a girlfriend. A lot of people found out and thought I was “gross” and that I was going to try and “touch them.” I was hated on a lot, but I never let it get to me because I was perfectly fine with myself around school and public. Just last week I went to the beach in Galveston, Texas, with my girlfriend. We held hands and kissed in public, and I felt comfortable doing so. We got uneasy stares from people who weren’t comfortable being around a lesbian couple, but a lot of people smiled and enjoyed seeing two people love each other even though they’re the same gender.

I may face many obstacles in the future with my sexuality and my choice of living, but I sure am proud of myself for who I am, and how far I got myself in this world.

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by Hannah M. Bryan

I’ve always been an outcast, always been a freak. I’ve never been popular in my school. And I’ve always been taught that anything but straight is wrong. But a big part of me liked girls. Always has. Even as a kid, I’d see high school girls and think “Boy are they hot!” I even befriended them. I’ve always thought something was wrong with me and I sought God for it.

So I went to a church and tried to get over my liking of girls. Eventually, the feeling did fade. But I never liked any boys my age. I never found a hot guy that I would like to date. I never had a crush on anyone except characters my Aspergers Syndrome caused me to like (oh yes, I’d get obsessed over everything). But once in a while, I would actually feel attracted to guys. But other than that, it was just girls.

But then one night, I talked to a really caring old man about my inner feelings inside. Am I okay? Do I belong? What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel this way about girls? And he said these amazing words:

“Love is love, young one. It doesn’t matter if you’re gay, bi or straight. It doesn’t matter what you are. God wouldn’t want you to change you.”

Then I realized that I was bisexual. Sometimes I feel attracted to girls, sometimes I feel attracted to guys. But I feel more attracted to girls than guys. So I just call myself a bisexual lesbian; it’s much easier to say than “the bisexual who is more attracted to girls.”

You are who you are. Be yourself. Don’t hide in shame. Don’t act like something you’re not. And don’t let others tell you that you can’t be exactly who you are. Just know that God loves you for you and you should too. If you don’t believe in God, then know that there’s always someone that will love you for you and not for what others want you to be.

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by Kat Woods

I had known about sex and sexuality from a young age. I had always been curious about it. I was mature for my age, and I had always been open when sexuality came about.

My parents marriage failed when I couldn’t fix what happened in their bedroom. I’d say bigger isn’t always better. Size ruined my family. But, I have always been able to talk to my parents about sex, and sexuality never seemed to be a problem.

In elementary school, I always admired both the male and female figure. I’d find myself checking out the girls in my class, wondering if I was the only one who did so. I had never really been told that homosexuality was frowned upon, so I looked at it as a curiosity. I imagined sexual experiences with both genders, never really putting a label on my sexuality.

In middle school, that’s when I met her. Kayna, Double D’s, very sexual, gorgeous beyond compare, and determined to prove that I was bisexual. At this point in my life, I had always been curious, I just never came to the conclusion that I was bisexual. When Kayna moved away, I came out. I realized that I was lying to everyone around me, and I wasn’t ashamed of my sexuality.

I changed my “interested in” on Facebook to Men and Women.

My parents complained. They told me I was flaunting my sexuality. They told me they didn’t approve of my advertising it on Facebook. For the first time in my life, my parents voiced their disapproval of homosexuality. Hypocritically really. My mother has always been bisexual. Her concerns were based from experience. My father on the other hand, hated the fact that I would start to comment on the female figure with him. He was the type to make comments out loud about something he liked and not expect me to notice. I made a point of me noticing.

But, I have always had her. Her name is Phoenix. There have been loves of my life, or so I thought, but the love I have for her is like no other. She is my dearest friend and a sister at heart. At one point I wanted her for myself, but soon realized we were to just be close friends. Although I’m not her type, I still love her with all my heart.

I have found a true love. I have a love for Thomas.

Thomas is my boyfriend. If there were a God, I’d say we were meant to find each other. My love for him is unconditional and eternal, and I believe him to be my soulmate. I’ve found the one who can accept and understand my sexuality.

I have the loves of my life. The heterosexual in me loves Thomas and the lesbian in me loves Phoenix. I am bisexual. I am proud.

-(Share your story with us!)

by Bobbi Dykema

I’m from Strasburg, North Dakota, hometown of Lawrence Welk. They played polka at my senior prom. A very homogenous, provincial, rural backwater of a place. I got picked on as a kid because I was different: brainy, literate, ironic.

I didn’t really glom onto the possibility that I was anything but straight until my sophomore year of college, when my best friend (male) came out to me. That started the gears turning in my head. Like maybe my interest in the ladies’ underwear section of the JCPenney catalog had a sexual dimension to it.

Luckily there was a small but supportive community to come out in. My best friend. The GLBT group on campus. I was also in the process of questioning my religious identity and beliefs, and had started actively attending the local Unitarian Universalist church, which was also an extremely loving and supportive environment.

For me, coming out has always been an ongoing and multi-layered process. After finishing my bachelor’s degree at North Dakota State University I moved to Minneapolis and began actively dating women and participating in the lesbian community. I discovered that many of the women in that community at that time were more or less openly hostile to bisexual women. So I identified as lesbian and tried to keep the other side of my sexuality under my hat. When I first came out, I wanted to make my appearance advertise my newfound understanding of myself as much as possible, so I chopped off my hair and started living in flannel. After a few years I realized that wasn’t really me, so I let my hair grow back and re-embraced lipstick and dresses. I remember calling up my friends on Saturdays to see if they were going to the club last night—Club Metro, the lesbian bar in St. Paul. It was a big place, two dance floors, a sports bar, etc., so my friends would ask how they were going to find me. My response was always the same: “I’ll be the one in the skirt.” And I was. My pattern was to ogle the pretty women—usually in jeans, but with longer hair and jewelry—and go home with the butch ones.

When I’ve been with a male partner my sexual orientation is often more or less invisible, or at least it feels that way. I’ve been told by lesbian and bisexual women friends that I set off their gaydar when they first met me—even in makeup, heels, and a skirt. Probably at least some of the people I know, such as my students, colleagues, and acquaintances, assume I’m a straight ally. That’s okay. What I hate is when a person, usually a straight man, finds out I’m bi and assumes that means I’m poly and/or into threesomes (like with him and his wife/girlfriend). No, thank you. I’ve explored polyamory a little and find it intriguing but I get jealous too easily for it to work for me in anything but theory. And I don’t really like sex for the sake of sex; I want there to be emotional closeness and real relationship too.

I have often found support in unexpected places. After my best friend came out to me, I asked my mom what she thought of gay and lesbian people. She said, “I think they’re God’s children like anybody else.” Or when I was on the phone with my dad and mentioned my girlfriend’s name, and he said, “Well, you’re both welcome to come visit anytime—you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Or when my aunt picked me up at the airport, asked about the book under my arm (something about GLBT life), and said, “You know we love you just the way you are.”

I just finished grad school, and lived in the San Francisco Bay Area for the first three years of my program. What a rush to be in a city where people living all kinds of lives—partnered, single, poly, with partners of different ages, races, genders, etc., and it’s really not any great shakes. In New York, everybody’s Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. In San Francisco, everybody’s gay on Pride Day. I love that.

So much has changed for the better in my lifetime for GLBT people. I was 27 when Matthew Shepard was murdered. Now same-sex marriage is legal in 10 countries, 5 US states and DC. We still have a long way to go, as the recent publicized suicides of bullying victims testifies. But I am so grateful and proud to be part of the GLBT community. An army of lovers cannot lose.

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by Ali Scott

Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I lived in Dallas, Texas my whole entire life, I’m the biggest nerd you will ever meet; I can talk about Star Trek, Doctor Who, slasher and zombie movies till I’m blue in the face. I’m Christian, though I don’t really go to church, I do believe in God and I gave my heart to Jesus when I was 15 years old. I like being a couple, I’m very picky with who I sleep with (only slept with one person my whole entire life and I’m 24 years old saying this!) I love the idea and safety that monogamy brings, others may not and that is alright, but for me monogamy truly is the best policy. Now that you know this about me, I may tell you something that may make you judge me and shake your head at me…I am a bisexual. Frightening I know, unthinkable or impossible to you, yes, but the fact still remains, I’m attracted sexually and emotionally to both men and women.

Now some of you out there are going to project yourselves on me and say, “Yeah I said that too and now I’m gay.” That’s awesome that you’re gay, I’m very proud of you for coming to terms with who you are. Now others of you will say, “It’s a phase, you’re just a college girl who wants attention, blah blah blah!” For some people this is also true, but for me, it isn’t. I remember being 8 years old making my Barbies kiss, then having them break up and start dating Ken, then Ken would do something stupid and they would go back to dating each other again. To me, dating both was just natural, I was probably the only 8-year-old who had a thing for both Hercules and Xena warrior princess.

When I was 12 I learned that liking both was wrong, you are either gay or straight. Then I even started to go to a church that said homosexuality or anything close to it was wrong and you were going straight to Hell if you were. I didn’t want to go to Hell or make Jesus upset so I suppressed it even further, causing me to have severe depression. I began to eat my feelings away, getting up to 390 pounds at 5’7 by my 20th birthday. Then I lost the weight slowly but surely getting down to 240. I had knocked down a wall and had to look at myself and who I was. When I left for college, I left my church and its ideas behind. I realized that being gay didn’t mean you were going to Hell, but I thought you were either gay or straight. To me they were dirty, slutty, couldn’t commit and make up their mind. Yes I had feelings for both men and women, but I couldn’t be bi, no way! I was a good Christian girl, I wasn’t slutty or attention seeking, I was nerdy. I told myself I was just curious, that all straight girls felt this way, and I couldn’t be gay because I seriously had attractions for men BIG TIME. Then I began to realize that other straight girls didn’t feel this way. So I did a little research, saw a documentary called “True Life: I’m a Bisexual” and realized that these people were normal, monogamous, Hell there was a girl who was just like me! Still not able to admit it, I researched it some more, then later that night, I said it out loud, “I’m bisexual.” First I laughed then I started to cry because I realized that it was true, that I was bisexual. I went to a counselor and came out and now I’m starting a LGBT group at my college. My family doesn’t know, probably won’t for a while mainly because I want to get more secure financially when I get out of college, but I know who I am and though I struggle, at least I’m not in the closet anymore.

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by Stephanie

In high school, two girls can get away with anything short of making out without raising suspicions. Holding hands, constantly touching, none of those things made an impression until I told people the truth years later and they said: “Oh, well that makes sense now.”

We were best friends for five years before that tornado weekend when I said, “I’ve often wondered if I love you,” and she said, “I know I do.” Her boyfriend off at college was forgotten in that instant when my hands sank into her hair and I bit her lips because kissing wasn’t enough to express the force inside of me.  For months we climbed inside of each other, safe from repercussions because my father’s prejudice meant he never even suspected.

South Beach is probably one of the most gay-friendly areas in the country.  I had always grown up seeing men walk by holding hands. We always had gay neighbors. At the same time, I had always heard my father’s sneer when he spoke of them. I knew that while there might be nothing wrong with being gay, my father didn’t like it. Her parents were from Africa, and she knew that if they found out she’d be kicked out of the house. My situation wasn’t so dire – I just didn’t want him to ever look at me that way.

There was a Starbucks on Lincoln Road that we went to several times a week after school to study. There, away from anyone I knew but surrounded by tolerant strangers, I felt free. There, one day, my heart pounding to break my chest, I kissed her in full view of anyone who cared to look.  There, we held hands for hours reviewing calculus.  We could be ourselves, we could be honest, when the only eyes judging us were baristas and tourists.

It’s years later now, and this bisexual is in a relationship with a man.  We’ll probably get married soon.  I never told my parents, though I have told all my friends.  Sometimes it seems like the most important thing about me, and my pulse races as I mention my high school girlfriend casually to a coworker.  Sometimes I wonder if it was all a fever dream.  Sometimes i think back on that 17-year-old kid and marvel at her bravery.  Sometimes I think I am still being a coward.