Note: while I don’t want to delete or edit this article, it has since been updated to reflect a more nuanced, rounded, perspective. I don’t wholly agree with everything I wrote in this, but it’s worth keeping nonetheless.

Not all bisexuals are radicals. But bisexuality can be a radical identity. Bisexuals operate outside our understandings of sexuality – we are not one or the other, we are not this or that, we are everything andnothing, one and the other, this and that and a slice of cake all at the same time. Our attraction is not fixed to either men or women, but is fluid in our attraction to anyone beyond gender. We are not simple or easily definable, we are complex and difficult to understand. Hell, most of us don’t even really call ourselves bisexual!*

This puts us in a uniquely queer position to really challenge what it means to question authority, liberate ourselves from labels, confront patriarchy, dismantle the family and monogamy, and experience radical love.

But just as capitalism inhales anything and everything it can get its hands on, just as it sinks its claws into anything radical ready to commodify and bastardise and simplify it, bisexuality risks falling into the same fate. Liberalism tells us that the more we talk about things, the more content and consumables we have ready to buy, the more accepting we must be. And bisexuality has recently become a larger part of the mainstream in the UK: more books about bisexuality are being written and mainstream representations of bisexuality are popping up everywhere (not least the Netflix sensation Heartstopper). We talk about bisexuality more, there are more things to read and watch and consume, therefore we must be accepting of bisexuals too. “Look! Bisexuals can come spend money in this pub too!” or “Hey, learn how to be bisexual by reading this easy guide!”.

This gives us the false impression that one, we can simply spend and consume our way towards liberation – going to see Disney films where they tease a same-sex kiss or reading books where a character stands up for their bi-ness: “Uhm, actually I’m not gay/straight, I’m bisexual!”. And two, that people are even going to understand or “tolerate” (I hate that word) us. Tolerance has not made our lives safer – rising hate crimes against queer people, like the stabbings outside a nightclub in South London, shows us that hollow characters preaching their sexuality will not save us. The reality is that the complexities of our sexualities make it almost impossible to see representation that truly reflects us all. We are purposely difficult to define, and that means any attempt to “represent” us feels hollow and forced. Of course this doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be any representation, but that this will not be our liberation, and searching for representation on how best to be bi will never satisfy us.

To be bisexual is to be hidden. Unlike the dreamy queer communities that shows like Heartstopper try to showcase, bisexuals do not live this reality. There are very little obvious bisexual spaces – there are queer spaces, there are LGBTQ+ friendly spaces, and even these so-called ‘safe-spaces’ suffer with the problems of discriminating against bisexuals. Ever worried about appearing not queer enough? Ever been called juststraight/just gay by other queer people for being in a straight/gay-presenting relationship? Ever just called yourself gay to not have to deal with a more complex discussion about your sexuality?

Bisexuality is at risk of being turned into a commodity and losing its radicality. Because we don’t have many spaces to convene and discuss and be openly and safely bisexual, we rarely know how cool being bisexual really can be. We must fight for a radical bisexuality, and that doesn’t mean necessarily demanding representation in films and TV shows and books. Our fight comes in building bisexual communities, in talking about bisexuality with everyone, in educating other bisexuals about the awesome power of living outside heteronormativity (the norms that straightness enforces – monogamy, gender, patriarchy, gayness). Feeling lost in my sexuality, I only began to realise just how many people around me were also bi once I began discussing my sexuality and sharing my thoughts. “Why don’t people get my sexuality?”, “why do I struggle to pass as bisexual?”, “where do I learn about what it means to be bi?” are all questions I’ve been able to explore by building bisexual communities. These communities help us understand ourselves and embrace our complexities. It allows us to fight against the simplification of our sexualities, against the commodification of bi-ness, and turn bisexuality into a crisis.

Liberation is what we make of it. No one else is going to provide it for us, certainly no multi-national corporation. By turning bisexuality into a crisis, we fight against a true definition or representation of bisexuality. By making bisexuality a crisis, we fuck with the simple minds and the simplified structures enforced by patriarchal capitalism. By making bisexuality a crisis, we deny capitalism getting its grubby little hands on us. Bisexuality should be a crisis – that is our power, that is our radicality.

*in this instance, ‘bisexual’ is used as an umbrella label to describe anyone attracted to more than one gender. Some people identify as pansexual or demisexual which should not be understated, but for ease in this article, I am referring to everyone under the umbrella label ‘bisexual’.