By Kaci Machacyk

Bi people exist.

Now, I’m sure most of you consider that a “well, duh” statement. I mean- we have a whole letter in the main mafia alphabet. Of course, we’re here, and queer people are used to it. But as with any sexuality, there is nuance. And nuance is why I can’t relate to a lot of bisexual stuff. That’s why I can’t say “me too!” when a meme about bisexuals is posted, or wear a shirt labeled “bisexual” to PRIDE. That’s because I’m a different, lesser-known type of bi. I’m biromantic.

For the majority of my life, I thought I was just an ally, and a proud one! I was surrounded by uncles married to uncles, lesbian aunts, and the broad spectrum of gayness displayed in the musical theatre community. These were my people, and I supported them wholeheartedly. But me? I was always considered “boy crazy” by friends, which seemed like a pretty good indicator that I was straight. However, even as a youngster, I believed that “everyone was bi,” and we all just leaned one way or the other (11-year-old me did not know about the Kinsey scale, and yet!). Later on, I would think to myself, “I don’t like labels.” I realize now it was because I never saw one that actually applied to me. Then along came Tumblr, and with it, the label that finally explained everything- biromantic.

“What does that even mean?” ask the straights and even my fellow gays. Well, kids, it’s pretty simple: I feel sexual attraction to one gender, in my case, men (lord help me), but romantic attraction to both men and women (etc.). Now, obviously, the details of biromanticism vary per human, and I can only speak for myself. In my case, I have almost no sexual feelings for women with female genitalia. I have no desire to touch or engage with those particular parts. But heck do I think women are beautiful! I wanna stare at ‘em, I wanna hug ‘em, I wanna cuddle ‘em. I wanna grab their butts. I wanna hold their hands and even date them. I might even wanna give ‘em a romantic peck on the lips. I’ve admittedly never dated a woman, which adds to the “but am I even bi” internal struggle. But in a possible future girl/girl relationship, I would consider myself an “asexual lesbian.” I’d need a partner who was open to us finding our sexy times elsewhere with our preferred genders.

As for the “feeling bi enough” issue…well, that’s a constant battle. Bisexuals have encountered plenty of backlash from inside and outside of the community, which has led to a lot of dysphoria among us. We all know a bisexual in a straight-passing relationship who gets the eye roll, the “Is she even…?”, the “their partner doesn’t belong in this space, and maybe they don’t either.” Biromantics like myself deal with that, plus a little bit of extra incredulity, “Well, isn’t that just having an appreciation for women?” “That’s how you act with your friends. What makes this any different?” “Are you even allowed to call yourself bi?” Or from a well-meaning friend, “Are you appropriating the bi flag?”

And some days? Well. I don’t know. Am I a fake? Do I deserve to align myself with people who actually have sex with the same sex when I haven’t even acted on my same-gender attraction? When I may NEVER act on it? The internal struggle is real.

Then the other days come, and I wear my flag with pride and say hell yeah, of course I belong. I know who I am. And I sure as shit don’t feel straight.

This article was originally published in the 52 issue of Las Vegas PRIDE Magazine, and can be read in its original format here.