What Did One Bisexual Say To The Other?

I realize I've sucked a big butt at keeping my posts regular.  However, in my defense I'm moving in less than two weeks and I have SO much to do.

BUT!  That is neither here nor there.

News, friends.  I went on a date... with a man.  I've known him for two years and we've been able to work together in some really awesome capacities.  Well he finally asked me out formally and we had and ARE HAVING such a fun time!!

He is so many many things and there is so much I could say about what kind of person he is (in a word: beautiful!) but what I really want to tell you is something pretty special.

He is bisexual.  Like me.  He views love like I do.  We love who we love.

At first i was scared.  I'd never had feelings for someone who was fully bisexual like I am.  And I was able to talk to him about it.  My fear, how he feels, perceptions on love, romance, relationships, etc.

And now... It's fucking beautiful.  

...But Words Will Always Rate Me

This is something that has long since bothered me. And I need to get it off my chest.

Beauty can come in all shapes and sizes. While I’ve always been able to accept this for everyone else, it’s taken me some time personally to accept this fact for myself. When I express these thoughts, I’m always met with disbelief and positive affirmation: “You are handsome.”

And handsome has stuck. Many mothers have remarked handsome I am. Friends have told me how handsome I look. Guys tell me how handsome I am in my pictures.

The part that bothers me, however, is that handsome is never used to describe the underwear model in magazines. He gets hot, sexy. The movie star will be called beautiful, a gorgeous if his fan is especially adorning. Rarely, however, do these men get a handsome.

The issue I have is not a personal one; it’s not about the fact that I’m being called handsome, or being called it instead of other words. The issue is this: in our words and our adjectives, we have begun to rank beauty and put different forms of it above another. Someone that’s handsome is never sexy, and someone that’s hot is never handsome. While beauty comes in different shapes and sizes, why do our words have to make some forms of beauty better than others? If all people are beautiful, why do we distinguish between them so that some are less than others? Why is beauty put on a hierarchy?

I might be overanalyzing, or I might not be. 

Excuse Me

Why should I require abs?

I want a man with a soft stomach so that when I rest my head on it, I can feel comfortable.

Why should I require a flat stomach?

I want a man who will go on ice cream, frozen yogurt, and dinner dates with me.

Why should I require someone hot in bed?

I want a man who knows the skills to satisfy me in bed. And physical attractiveness is no guarantee of that.

Why should I require clear skin, blemish free?

I want a blemish or a few to remind me that no one is ever perfect, ever. And that his scars make him better, not bitter, about the way his life has gone.

Why should I require a full head of hair?

I want a head that can understand my rants about gender, heteronormativity, and queer theory. And give me feedback.

Why should I require a man to be masculine?

I want a man who is unafraid of being who he truly is, even if it contrasts with what the world wants from him.

Why should I require someone like me?

I want a man who expects these same sentiments from me.

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Thank you for letting me indulge in some creative writing. I’ve been getting pretty fed up with societal expectations of people, and moreover, people’s adhesion to these ideas. Society isn’t an individual; it isn’t one personal being that you will ever interact with. And its production of beauty standards and other expectations, dispensed through the media and culture, does not account for the majority of people in this country. While I enjoy the occasional depiction of a “Ken doll,” we must meet these images and the expectations that accompany them and that govern the rest of us with a critical eye. Will they truly bring us happiness in our individual lives? Should we police others by these standards?

Praise the Lord for hip ‘90s music. Because I’m not going to be a pawn in society’s game. And for that I respectfully say, “excuse me.”