It's a lot like breathing ...

I've been asked many times to describe what it is like to be bisexual. Not the whole, what's it like to be into males and females, and possibly have some wild threesomes. Those queries I tend to ignore, unless I am in full bitch mode, and then you really don't want me to answer. : )

No, what I am talking about are the honest, and serious queries of what it is like to be constantly divided. To have sexual yearning that earns the labeling of fense-sitter, and other less friendly terms.

To them I simply say, it is a lot like breathing.

As Lisabet gave us the concept to go on, she mentioned the metaphor aspect. How breathing has been likened to many things. For me, bisexuality can be likened to breathing.

I may not have chosen it ...

Some days, I might not even like it (I am married after all, and while he does support my sexuality, it is a struggle for me at times) ...

But you know what, it is a simple part of my biology, much like breathing. I can no more stop being bisexual than I can stop breathing. Except for in death ... and then, I have stopped really being anything, so that doesn't count.

Sure, like would be simpler if I wasn't bisexual. Then again, life would be simpler if I didn't need to breath too. Space travel would certainly be a lot easier to achieve, as would swimming. And no worries if the cabin depressurizes during a flight - I wouldn't need the oxygen mask.

Breathing for me is simply a part of being human, of living. We intake air and remove the oxygen from it, and then we exhale air, pushing out all the waste gases. We don't think about it, we don't debate and worry and fret and struggle with ourselves over it. It simply is, as it is. And when we don't like it, and hold our breath, we reach a point where we pass out and our bodies simply take over automatically, and we breath again.

At one point in my life, I was like that. I denied my sexuality, I couldn't handle it. (Mostly because of the lack of support from family). I was told my liking other girls was hormones, and that I would grow out of it. Because I craved the support and love of my mother, I tried. Goodness knows, I tried to stop liking girls. But, just like a toddler having a fit, and holding their breath ... I passed out (metaphorically) and my body took over. Seeing attractive women, I would feel my pulse race, my breath quicken. My body grow moist and receptive, just like when I saw an attractive male.

Finally ... I reached a point in time where I accepted that I am bisexual. That it is like breathing, something I have no control over, and really, don't want to.