Those two words, when put together, really make a lot of people uncomfortable.
“Choose a side, dude!” It’s kind of the overall mentality surrounding it for a lot of people.
Choose a side?
Do you ask a Grizzly Bear to choose which side of the river he wants to fish from?
Of course not. Because he’s a Grizzly Bear and he’d eat you for trying.
And, he’s a Grizzly Bear. He was born a Grizzly Bear. He’ll die a Grizzly Bear. And you nor he have any control over that.
Sometimes I think it’d be nice to live in the non-human animal kingdom. Live as you’re born. Die as what you’ve become. And nobody else gives a shit.
Choose a side?
I see it in their eyes…
I must be confused.
I must be confused because being bisexual is not natural. Maybe for a girl? Definitely not for a guy.
I’m still on my journey of discovery. I must be.
I’m still trying to figure my sexuality out. I must be.
I’m still trying to decide which side of the river has more fish. Why else would I be fishing where the other bears aren’t?
I’ve had people tell me all that (well, except the bear part). I’ve had people say it right to my face. Many times.
I used to get so down. I used to get so discouraged. Then, over time, something changed. And I realized something…
I don’t want to be anything other than the person I was born. I don’t want to be anything other than who I am.
God, I love myself.
Maybe I’m not the manly man, drive a giant pick-up truck, pick tobacco stems out of my beard kind of guy.
Maybe I’m not the always horny, always tough, always gotta pretend I have the bigger penis kind of guy.
Maybe I relate more to women and gay men more often than straight men in a lot of things.
Maybe I like to get manicures and pedicures.
Maybe I have a bit of an effeminate flare in my tone sometimes.
Maybe I wear Manpris. And maybe I think too much about love with my heart and not with my hormones. And maybe I am sensitive.
Who cares?! I love all that about myself. Even if you don’t. Even if Sally Sue or Jim Bob over there don’t. Even if people I date don’t. Even if family members don’t.
I love ALL of it.
I’m manly enough. I have nothing to prove. I have a kick ass beard and I ride a Harley.