Dating 101

Mainstream heterosexual dating is pretty straightforward; boy meets girl. Queer dating is more complicated because queer people tend to identify themselves based on who they date. Thus, every time you enter into a relationship (or even find someone attractive), the words you use to identify yourself may change.

This whole defining-your-identity-by-who-you-date thing is no trouble at all for someone on either end of the Kinsey scale (i.e., straight or gay); it’s the rest of us, in the middle, that have trouble with it. Say you identify as bisexual, but are committed to a woman and present yourself as a man. Anyone who sees you with your partner assumes that you are a heterosexual guy. If you correct the assumption, a whole bunch of other ones—that you’re cheating on her, etc—are quickly and inevitably made. This phenomenon—bisexual invisibility—is just the tip of the iceberg of problems that arise from using the gender binary to define who we date.

Last week we talked about how no two women have the exact same gender; thus, no two people you’ve dated have had the exact same gender, although you probably have a certain “type” (tomboys, athletes, etc). Sooner or later, you figure out your type, and use that fact to choose the binary words you identify with—gay, straight, bisexual. But what if you realize your “type” isn’t about boy or girl, but about something else? Maybe you’re attracted to artists regardless of gender; maybe you’re specifically attracted to androgyny (the melding of feminine and masculine traits). When this is true, you aren’t attracted to people who fit into the girl-boy binary; thus, using words that adhere to this binary doesn’t do your personal identity justice. Tough, right? To express yourself more completely, you can use labels that acknowledge and support the fluidity of gender. The word “pansexual,” for example, essentially takes bisexuality to the next step, and means the person is open to dating men, women, and transfolk. I like to identify using the word “queer” because all it really means is I’m not heterosexual; thus, if I date a woman for a while, a transman, and then a biological man, my label doesn’t have to change.

Speaking of which, here’s the real monkey wrench: if identity hinges on attraction, what happens to your identity when your partner’s changes? If your lesbian lover comes out as a man, can you still be in a lesbian relationship? I love this one—I’ve seen it several times now, and have a couple stories to share with you next week!