They say bi doesn’t mean “two” but it feels like I am split in two ever since I realised I wasn’t straight.

I am split in two because I live one life where I am proud of who I am, where I want to wear bi pride colours every day, where I want to say a big fuck you to heteronormativity and educate my gay friends on their own biphobia. But I also live another life in which I panic at the thought of being intimate with a woman, in which I doubt myself daily, in which I think (and sometimes even wish) that I was just straight after all.

I am split in two because I judge myself with double standards. I treat every interaction I have with women like a test, ask myself if I did or didn’t find her attractive, overanalyse my feelings until I don’t feel them anymore, dive deep into my fears until I declare them to be facts rather than irrational anxieties. But I never doubt my attraction to men. I know I am attracted to them. I know I like having sex with them. I know I can love them. And I know all that without having to prove it – neither to myself nor anyone else.

They say that attraction to different genders can feel differently but what if one kind of attraction feels logical and comfortable and unquestioned and the other kind feels frightening and unclear and crippling?

I am split in two because I know that I have been attracted to women for a very long time but I still cannot kill the idea that I am mistaken.

I am split in two because the events where I could meet queer women are advertised “for lesbians”, making me feel like I have to pretend to be something I am not in order to be accepted.

I am split in two because straight people make homophobic comments in my presence because they assume I am one of them, making me feel like I have to pretend to be something I am not in order to be safe.

I am split in two because I accept and support everyone who tells me they are non-monosexual but I don’t accept myself.

I am split in two because while I can write this I still can’t look at myself in the mirror and say “I’m bisexual” out loud.

I am split in two because I know there is nothing to be ashamed of yet I am ashamed.

But I am split in two because of biphobia, not because I am bisexual.

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