I just got off the phone with Beth, a 19-year-old Pratt student whose Voice ad I answered, who wants to date a bi guy. She said she’s gotten hundreds of replies and has already found one guy who’s really cute: “I think you’d like him, too.”
I wondered: What if I’m actually NOT queer enough to claim the label?
“Maybe we don’t want something in us that has been in someones you know what. It is very unsanitary to a woman’s reproductive system. “
Bisexuality, even today, is still somehow frowned up. And I, for the majority of my twenties, was one of the people doing the frowning.
‘I’m kind of gay.’ I whispered. It was the first time I said that sentence, which would become my default sentence for coming out to anyone from complete strangers to my best friends, out loud.
I was in the closet for too long I was almost sure I was in Narnia already (and the closet is suffocating).
“When I was about 13-14 I had a wet dream that I came inside Al Gore.”
“Two words: oral sex. Love to give it, love to get it. And it’s completely different depending on who I’m with.”
Ronna told John she was in love with him and he asked her if I would consider sleeping with him, too. (I told her to tell him I might.)
As if to reassure me, Ronna said, “I’m not jealous, you know, of the young men who partake of your body while I’m typing away at my thesis.” I just smiled.