LGBT Asia: Thoughts About Bisexuality

LGBT Asia: Thoughts About Bisexuality

I promised a follow up post to the short talk I gave at the Southbank Centre a few weeks ago, so here it is. With anything we write or say beyond cathartic self-expression, I believe the reactions people have to our work are very important to note. Given the short amount of time we had for discussion, I wouldn't say any of us had the chance to fully articulate our positions. As such, I don't want to single anyone out or criticise anyone, and will rather be speaking generally. The below is an amalgamation of themes that arose from discussions after the event had come to a close, and I wanted to expand on certain impressions people seem to have of bisexuality that keep cropping up in my life.

One of the most honest things I've heard in a while was around jealousy, and how gay men and lesbians may be jealous of bisexuals given we are capable of having heterosexual relationships. As perceived by them, this allows us to gain access to heterosexual privileges and shields us from homophobic discrimination. And yet, our realities are often a little more complicated. It's true that heterosexual relationships are still more socially accepted - whether in Bangladesh or the UK. And in Bangladesh, some very significant legal barriers fall away as soon as you are involved with the opposite sex. And so to a certain extent, I can understand the jealousy. It's rooted in how our world is currently structured and not something to be dismissed - although it's important to note it's not this way because of something bisexuals have done. But there is more to it than that. If you're openly bisexual, the homophobia, and indeed the biphobia, don't suddenly go away. We merely face a different set of prejudices and stereotypes when we enter an opposite-sex relationship - the questions about when we're going to cheat, when we're going to “switch” sexualities again, and of course the "everlasting taint" of any same-sex partners from our past. So yes, while we may be able to get married, and get that couple's honeymoon deal no-awkward-questions-asked, acceptance itself can remain an elusive goal.

This brings me to another point often made about how the word bisexual is a label people use to hide behind and lessen stigma. I can understand somewhat, given what I've just written, how coming out as bisexual may sometimes seem easier. At the event, I was told that this was the reason certain gay men in the Asian community come out as bisexual, thereby creating a sense of mistrust around anyone using the term. People wonder if a man claiming to be bisexual is actually gay and I know the story of the bi-now, gay-later men is an oft repeated one. How these men navigate between these identities can vary, and I've been told by several that the label of bisexuality was in fact a safe halfway house for them. But for others, their sexualities have been fluid, and the change in labels was more an honest necessity. And beyond this are those who are in fact still bisexual, but the biphobia and lack of understanding makes it easier for them live out their lives as gay men. There's a myriad of possibilities here, and it's important to take each story and consider its merits without generalising. The truth is no one really knows what's going on in someone else'd mind, and so no one really know what someone else's sexuality is. Passing judgement is risky business, and often judgement passed is through a prejudiced lens. Effeminate men seem to be one of the biggest targets here – apparently some guys are such queens that there is no way they could be bisexual. However, the reality is someone's mannerisms do not define who they are attracted to or aroused by. If we stripped away the heteronormative assumption that traditionally defined masculine men are the only ones capable of being attracted to women, this would be easier for a lot of us to see.

Going back to the original point about stigma, I also question if telling people you are bisexual really does protect someone from prejudice within South Asian communities, diaspora or otherwise. Based on the personal experiences of myself and others, I cannot imagine how identifying as bisexual instead of homosexual would make coming out significantly easier. Any confessed attraction to the same-sex can be taken with surprise, seen as an abnormality or met with hostility – regardless of whether it comes packaged as bisexuality or homosexuality. To add a more specific biphobic dimension, when some Bangladeshi people hear I am a bisexual man they seem to assume not all hope is lost for me. I am seen as fixable, and continual suggestions to fix me are made - I can still find the right woman after all, unlike a gay man who is condemned to his fate.

I will end this here, as this is not meant to be an exhaustive post on the dynamics of bisexuality and prejudice, similar to how our discussions themselves were not exhaustive. I hope at least some parts of what I've written have been accessible and relatable. I know biphobia is a topic more and more people are writing about nowadays, and so I remain positive that we are moving in the right direction. I'd also like to thank everyone who attended on the day (if any of you are reading!), because it is events like these that also serve to build bridges where there may be none!

Making Progress or Losing Ground: LGBT Asia

Making Progress or Losing Ground: LGBT Asia

Being Bisexual: Navigating Invisibility & Practicality


Level 5 Function Room, Royal Festival Hall


Last weekend I spoke at this Alchemy Festival event in the Southbank Centre. Organised by Bobby Tiwana, it was a brief look at South Asian LGBT communities in the home countries and the diaspora through the perspectives of various speakers. It was an intimate affair attended by around 40 to 50 people, with short talks followed up with café-style discussions among the audience and facilitators. I am posting the text of my speech below, which touched upon both bisexuality and the wider environment faced by LGBTQ people in Bangladesh. 

"I didn’t know the Bengali word for bisexual until I Googled it while I was at university. I didn’t actually even know the English word 'bisexual' until I was thirteen or so. Before then, I’d thought I was the weird gay kid who liked girls on the side.

I thought it would be good to start with some humour, but honestly I’m telling you this because it sets the tone for the rest of what I’m going to say, about how bisexuality is often not discussed or mentioned, or misunderstood.

I think bisexuals make many heterosexual and homosexual people uncomfortable - often because they’re confused by us. Maybe to an external monosexual observer, it can look like I’m pursuing men one day, and then the next day I flick a switch, become straight, and am pursuing women. And I guess this can be quite disconcerting, especially for a group of people who’ve built their activism around the slogan that sexual minorities do not choose to be attracted to who they’re attracted to. 


I think their discomfort is misplaced though, as in reality I do not choose the gender I am attracted to - it just to so happens, because I’m attracted to more than one gender, that I’m able to choose the gender of the person I pursue. This is an important distinction to make, but perhaps a tricky one to wrap your head around unless you’re willing to have a full-on conversation about bisexuality.

Of course, these dynamics can give rise to other potentially loaded questions. When I came out to my youngest aunt, one of the first things she asked was couldn’t I just date women? Wouldn’t that be both be safer and easier in Bangladeshi society? My answer was that I had tried to only date women, but doing that had meant I had to cut away and bury part of my identity - it was like I was pretending part of me was dead. She understood and could sympathise - and I think she was only trying to point out the practical.

But my answer isn’t the whole answer, as far bisexuality is concerned. What I described is just my experience as someone who is attracted quite strongly to men and women. But have a friend who, in her own words, is 'mostly straight'. She’s experimented with women but doesn’t feel as strongly about them as she does men. Her answer to my aunt’s question would probably have been quite different.

I come back to having full-on conversations. Communication is key - and talking to each other means we know where exactly we each stand. We all avoid making ignorant assumptions leading to uncomfortable situations. I’ve been asked by gay men if I’m just having fun with guys till I get married. I’ve also been asked by straight women if they’ll be enough for me - because they think physically they can’t offer me everything I want. Now the exact physicality of sexual intimacy isn’t that important to me, but the judgement is passed before I can say that. Popular culture doesn’t help - a bisexual is often someone who cheats, or bisexual porn as a genre is often about threesomes.

Apart from the presumed promiscuity, as a Bangladeshi I worry about the other misconceptions parents, family or society can have of sexual minorities. People often ask me if being Muslim complicates my situation. It does, but not necessarily in the way people think. The prevailing form of thought I have seen among folks across all demographics in Bangladesh is that they believe same-sex attractions are an illness, and condemnation manifests in various ways from this source. Islamic criticisms are but one of these manifestations. Of course, we need to have a rethink of why we interpret our religion without compassion for gender and sexual minorities. I know there are scholars who are working in this area now, and folks in the UK can go to organisations like Imaan or Safra as a first port of call. But in Bangladesh, I have atheist and humanist friends and family who aren’t fully comfortable with my sexuality either.

The root cause for a lot of this is ignorance. Things are getting better, however. We haven’t had any large scale movements, though you’ll be seeing photos behind me of a rainbow rally, which visibly includes hijras, held by Roopbaan, a newish group that promotes the freedom to love and brings out various LGBT publications. Their current profile picture on Facebook mentions biphobia, and the inclusion of bisexual factors in the conversation, something that is often missing with activism nowadays in the West, makes me happy. There’s also Project Dhee - which works to network and empower LGBT people themselves, most importantly including women, hijras and people from beyond just Dhaka. Obviously, poverty and literacy remain notable obstacles. Dhee is also successfully building allies from wider society, which shows people’s mindsets aren’t all stuck in the it’s-an-illness mode. I also know non-LGBT youth organisations are quietly gauging attitudes and educating, though I am unsure if they’re comfortable being named.

All said, the truth is Section 377 does hang over our heads. No case under it has ever made it to the Supreme Court but it’s also important to realise that 377 isn’t the only section of our penal code that can be used to stifle pro-LGBTQ action. And as with any big change affecting society, it’s important to note nowadays the state isn’t the only actor we should be wary of."


Thank you for reading. I spoke to a number of people following the event, and the content of the talk triggered some very interesting discussions. I've written a follow up piece this post, please click here if you're interested in reading the rest.