Does sexual orientation really matter? On this Coming Out Day 2010, it does and it doesn't.
It matters because of all the injustices which are perpetrated on Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Intersex, and Queer persons, especially younger ones who haven't had enough support for who they find themselves to be. It matters because of all the prejudices towards LGBTQI persons which are based on simplistic understandings of sexuality and emotional reactions to those who are different. And, of course, it matters to individuals who might want to take their relationship deeper into expressing it in a more physical way that is compatible with who they are.
It doesn't matter, because ultimately what matters is loving relationships of human beings.
Once upon a time, it was important to me to identify myself as bisexual. It had been a struggle to come to terms with the truth that I was happily married to a woman and was attracted to some men, just as I was attracted to some women.
In fact, when I went looking for support among my fellow church-related gay and lesbian friends, they weren't so sure I was one of them. I figured they'd understand because of my same-gender attractions. In 1978, I guess not. It would take a few more years. Apparently most people are only attracted to some people of one gender. "Monosexuals" might be a term for them, I suppose.
But over the last few years, I've preferred another way of describing my sexual orientation: "attracted to people regardless of gender" is how I describe myself on my Facebook presence and in person, if asked.
You see, the term "bisexual" is a problem for me because it participates in what I now have come to understand is a limited view of sexuality and gender: that gender is dichotomous and either-or, and that there are only two genders. My trans friends and gender-bending friends and those who are intersex have helped me see beyond this and in fact are living testaments to the complexity of sexuality and gender.
Perhaps I further confuse things by so carelessly equating "sex" and "gender." For most people, I suppose they are equivalent. But in reality, things are really so much more complicated. I once was introduced to a model of sexuality that involved 3 layers: core gender identity, gender role behavior, and sexual orientation. The addition of physical "sex"--the equipment, if you will, or the characteristics of the body, takes us into some really complex areas.
I was fascinated to attend a lecture several years ago by Christine Gudorf of Florida International University, "Is a Christian Ethic of Sex Possible?" at Pacific School of Theology's Earl Lectures. One of her points was this complexity, and she laid out 6 "biological markers," variations of "sex" from a genetic, morphological, hormonal, and at least a couple of other points of view. With such complexity, how can a Christian ethic based on the male-female dichotomy be possible?
In the years since, I've given a lot of thought of that, and have concluded that any ethic that does not take into account this complexity will be sadly misleading and mistaken. I now believe that an ethic of sexuality must be based on the quality of relationship--but that's a whole new topic.
Back to my more immediate point: bisexual is too limiting a concept for me at least. I sometimes will find myself attracted to a person whose gender I cannot easily determine. And sometimes even if asked, the person could give an ambiguous response: "why does it matter?" I now understand that there are more than two genders, "male" and "female." I don't have names for the others; those who identify with them sometimes will have their own, or just dismiss the issue with "androgynous." So while I'm happy with my equipment and reasonably comfortable in this body with its various abilities and disabilities, I am uncomfortable with gender role expectations which thankfully are much more flexible than they were in the 1950s when I was in grade school!
I was at lunch with a young child who was wearing shoes that could have been his sister's. When someone asked if those were boy shoes or girl shoes, I found myself quickly answering, "boy shoes, because he's wearing them." That would be my usual answer to gender role expectations of me: what I do is "masculine" just because I as a male do them. Which of course undercuts the whole concept of gender role expectations.
It is clear to me that sexuality is much more complex than the comment once made to me by a farmer when I suggested our church youth needed some sexuality education: "Just bring them out to my farm and I'll show them all they need to know." Human sexuality is far more than what is commonly seen as animal sexuality. I like the definition of James B. Nelson in his book "Embodiment": sexuality is a sign, a symbol, and a means of our call to communication and communion.