Dating as a Bi Guy

If you ask my type, I can’t give you an answer, because the list of the celebrities I consider Certified Baddies is…varied; David Harbour, Normani, Troye Sivan, Pabblo Vittar, Cheryl Cole, Trevante Rhodes, and more. At best, that makes for an eclectic Pride setlist, as opposed to a “type.”

My theory is that for non-bi/pan people generally, it's difficult to wrap your head around finding such oppositional aesthetics sexually appealing. “So you find the dainty, ultra-femininity of Ariana Grande intoxicating, yet you also want Henry Cavill to tie you up?” Now that gets even more confusing when considering the logistics of sex: What if actually I wanted Ariana to dominate me? Or if I wanted to make Superman into a sub and live the full Lex Luther fantasy? And what if (shock horror) that had nothing to do with sexual roles e.g. top or bottom?

Maybe none of that is too shocking to read - you’re on the Lovehoney blog, so you definitely score higher on the open-mindedness scale than most. I have always appreciated how Lovehoney celebrates sexual diversity by platforming queer people, and speaking to the queer experience day in day out. This is a far cry from the majority of companies whose allyship extends as far as putting a rainbow coat of paint on their logo for one month of the year, and no further.

But alas, not everyone is as open minded as your usual Lovehoney consumer. Unfortunately, dating as a bisexual man has made me surprised by how close-minded people can be.

One of the overlooked consequences of the pandemic is that it’s forced a lot of us to use dating apps more. Worst of all, during the lockdown even the possibility of hooking-up was technically illegal. Government mandated talking stages - that’s what George Orwell should have been warning about.

Far from endorsing these apps (in fact, I think that being algorithmically encouraged to categorise yourself and others into increasingly small boxes, is quite clearly… not great) they nonetheless became a fact of life for a lot of us in those long lockdown months.

In this time, I realised that being a bisexual man challenges a lot of people’s conceptions of sexuality. I’m between the rock and the hard place that is fetishisation and erasure. This is clearest when I come out. On the one hand, I have had twinks who are upset that I don’t live up to their DL, straight guy fantasy. On the other, women who go from seeing me as a potential sexual partner to then relegating me to the platonic role of Gay Bestie.

The thing is, I’d happily go to Sephora with you, I’m just saying let's wait until AFTER we shag! And equally, I can role play with the best of them, but let’s discuss that fantasy before you cast me in it without my consent. In either case, there is the potential for a lot of fun, but bi-erasure won’t allow those two activities to be enjoyed with the same person.

In both the scenarios I mentioned, my bisexuality is erased and replaced by simplistic ideas of what constitutes masculinity. For a lot of people, Carrie Bradshaw’s famously problematic statement still holds water; that bisexuality is “just a layover to gay town.” The fact that I’m quoting Sex and the City may even further validate their suspicions, because the root of bi-erasure is homophobia, sometimes internalised and sometimes just the garden variety “real men don’t do that” kind.

My main message is this: Everyone’s allowed preferences, but we should interrogate where those preferences are coming from, and not let close-mindedness cut us off from a good time. My secondary message is: Henry Cavill, if you are interested, my dm’s are open.

Written by Daniel Fisher. Daniel is a culture, literature and theory student at KCL. He was once marked down on an essay for suggesting Shakespeare "could sex this scene up a bit”.