living in a heterosexual relationship, as a bisexual being: part two: the murmur of “noise”

There’s a lot of noise and confusion as you come into your own, as a queer person.

For context, I have at least one child who is going through an active period of questioning and evolving her sexuality.

At twelve, she’s already dealing with her own “noise.”  Is she confused?  Not really.  Not anymore than a normal kid.  But is the world around her confusing?  Absolutely!

I’ve taught, as best I can, her to ignore anyone who suggests that her concept of her own sexuality isn’t accurate. When her mother tells her how nice it’ll be for her to find a husband one day (been telling her this since she was about 10). When people question her, because she says she likes girls, but doesn’t like any girls now.

“I want to kiss girls!” she exclaimed once, then, in her adorable honesty clarifying, “Well, not any girls I know.. Just, you know, girls.” I appreciated her technical honest statement, though I wish she didn’t feel the need to justify. But I know. I did.

I’m lucky, as she is, to have a supportive network.

Not everyone, of course, but plenty. More than many others have in their own lives. My master is fully aware and embracing of the fact I need other women (and men, too, but as I’m currently in a hetero relationship, that isn’t really in question by anyone). My siblings, my parents (sort of, though I’m not sure they quite understand the poly aspect), my friends. Even my larger social “groups.”

I have no doubt that all of them are secure in my identity and sexuality. To them, it is completely normal (as it should be!). Sometimes they ask questions, but it is in a friendly, “Let’s both see if we can perhaps find a way to better understand each other” sort of way. Especially as I tend to classify myself on a spectrum, rather than specific labels (though I do choose the ones that best fit at the time).

It’s not the genuine curiosity that is the problem.  Only the “noise.”

I don’t know what else to call it. The whispers, the comments one scrolls by in a mindless search for Baby Yoda memes and XKCD comics. I am sure I am not alone in this, but it can drive me utterly crazy sometimes.

A disgruntled ex that says my interest in women isn’t real; my toxic ex metamour telling her children that I’m not really bisexual. The…people that don’t matter. But sometimes I’m not strong “enough” to not listen.

The little bits and pieces that make one wonder, “Am I wrong in calling myself queer?”

So I keep doing my best to ensure my munchkin gets whatever she needs from me.

Teaching, teaching every day.  I can see it every time she mentions something, and I say, “Well, your mother [people] say things.” She nods, and I can almost physically see her putting that piece of information to the side and tossing it out. I want her used to doing this, so when she becomes an adult, it’s second nature to her.

I can only hope she is stronger than myself, and can dismiss it entirely. I will try, too.

In the meantime, I do the best I can.

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