I've always known I was bisexual. I was probably the only little girl in kindergarten with a boyfriend and a girlfriend. I was lucky enough to be raised in a household where homosexuality was not a bad thing. Things like sex weren't discussed much except for the basic Coming-Of-Age lecture, but I can't remember ever hearing that homosexuality was wrong. Or that the people practicing it were perverted spawn of Satan. I wasn't raised to believe sex was something a woman put up with for the privilege of having children. Or that I'd burn in Hell if I had sex with a woman. So I never went through any of the self-doubt and hatred that I've seen a lot of bisexual women go through and agonize over. Being bi was easy for me, and it wasn't a big deal. I owe my parents a big round of thanks for raising me without the standard hang-ups of most women of my generation.

I had my first female lover at seventeen. She was a great friend, and I loved her, but our relationship was based more on friendship and attraction, rather than any great passion. We were young, awkward, and able to laugh at our difficulties. Over time our lives went different directions, and we drifted apart.

I dated both men and women for a long time, although there were more men than women. As I got older, the women I met seemed to change. So many of them were looking for a serious relationship to settle down into. I wasn't ready for that, and got dumped a lot. They didn't believe in bisexuality. I was told more than once that it was time I gave up men and admit I was a lesbian. I wasn't willing to do that, either. I got dumped some more.

Then came a stretch of time where every woman I got involved with wanted me to be something I wasn't. I got tired of it, and I stopped dating women. It seemed like every woman that I met had all the traits that I didn't like. I know it wasn't really true, but with the mindset I had at that time that was all I saw. I got to the point where I didn't really like women, even as friends. Most of my good friends at that time were men, and that was fine with me. I was comfortable with men. I understood them. I certainly didn't understand women.

Then I met my SO. When I realized I loved him, and that the relationship was going somewhere, I decided I could settle down into a life of monogamous heterosexuality without any problems. I suppose it was dishonest not to tell him I was bisexual, or that I preferred non-monogamy, but it didn't seem very important. After all, I hadn't been involved with a woman in awhile, and right then it wasn't something I missed. And I was sure I could manage fidelity with the right person. I didn't see any point in telling him about a part of my life that I thought was over

Well, things went happily for a number of years. Then a friend got me wondering if I was still attracted to women. At that time, the answer was, "No." But the thought kept running around in the back of my mind, and I ended up on a few bifem mailing lists on the Net, and it hit me like a load of bricks that not all women were like the ones I had such trouble dealing with. One day I was reading some of the mail from one of the lists, and I remember being very surprised to realize that if I met these women in person, I'd probably like most of them. That was a shock to someone who was used to thinking that she didn't like women.

So there I was, thinking about my attraction to women, and trying to decide if it mattered. Eventually, I told my SO that I wanted to see other people. My bisexuality wasn't the only reason, I was having a lot of trouble dealing with monogamy in general. He assumed I meant men. So we opened our relationship. Then I decided I might as well tell him all of it, and I told him I was bisexual. On top of hearing that I wanted to see other people, learning that I was bi was not much of a shock for him. Maybe he suspected it all along. And he was okay with it. He's really wonderful about being supportive, and tries his best to understand.

Being bisexual has advantages and disadvantages. If I'm attracted to someone, I don't have to worry about gender. Of course I still get all the same garbage about not being able to make up my mind, and how I should just admit I'm a lesbian or straight and stop playing around. And a few people ask if I say I'm bi just to be trendy, which is a laugh. Bisexuality may be trendy if you're a celebrity, but in the real world it's not something most people think is cool.

If people find out I'm bi before they get to know me, they usually don't bother. It's just a little too weird for them. Women are very ill at ease, thinking I'm going to be hitting on them all the time. Men aren't sure just how to deal with it, once they get past the initial thrill of thinking I might invite them to a threesome with my current girlfriend. What no one seems to realize is that bisexuality is part of who I am, but I'm not defined by it. There is a lot more to me as a person than who I have sex with. It used to bother me that nobody wanted to see the person behind the stereotype, but I've decided I don't want to be friends with people that can't get past a label to see the person I really am, instead of judging me on who I sleep with.