Bi Babe Blog

The BiBabe Breaks Loose

Welcome to the Bi Babe Blog page from yours truly, Mia Monroe.

Why a blog? Well, I have a lot to say. It’s been pent up for years and I’m finally finding my voice. My voice that embraces my sexuality. The voice that is tired of staying quiet so as not to alter what others think of her. The voice that is no longer satisfied with the status quo. The voice that is ready to break loose {insert Diana Ross belting “I’m Coming Out” here}. That voice.

This page will be dedicated to topics related to sexuality- mine, yours, and everything on the rainbow spectrum. Straight people are allowed here too. In fact, I hope it becomes a place where all people feel welcome to explore, learn, and understand the complexity and beauty of human sexuality.

This blog will be mostly a journal of discovery for me, but I will welcome guests for interviews, discussions, and explorations of sexuality and gender identity that differs from mine. this blog, just like the person behind it, is a work in progress. I will do my best to represent, honor, and understand everything presented here.

What can you expect? Unfiltered truth. I don’t want to edit myself or hold back. I will cuss, talk about whatever I want, and as the title suggests, let the fuck loose.

So thank you for being here, for reading and supporting my efforts. The next post will be my journey up to present day Mia.

Bi Babe Blog Episode 1: Started from the bottom… now we here.

Before I talk about where I’m at, allow me to take you on a walk down memory lane to understand where I’ve been. Let me start with my age. I’m 48. That means my early adult years were during the nineties, in fact, I turned 21 in 1992. Wayne’s World was a hit and a new generation just discovered Bohemian Rhapsody. I lived in my own apartment, had a bunch of friends, dated good looking guys, and generally had a pretty good life. If you had asked me back then what my sexuality was I would have answered, unequivocally, straight. That wasn’t at all true, but I didn’t realize that. I thought making out with pretty girls in bars after a few shots was “normal”. I mean, there were plenty of girls who wanted to kiss me, so it must be what girls do, right? I didn’t even question it.

 

It wasn’t just pretty girls at bars though. I had crushes on friends. I experimented with some of them. There was more kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. I really like kissing. I stayed above the waistline, kissing, touching, nibbling. I’m absolutely obsessed with boobs- no shame. I felt intimidated to do more, even though I really wanted to, but since neither I nor any of my friends actually fessed up to more than drunken experimenting, we never took it to the next level. Well, there was this one time… I’ll save it for another story.

 

Back then, at least in my world, no one was talking about sexuality. No one was speaking up and saying hey I might be {fill in the blank here}. Everyone fell neatly into two categories- straight or gay and only guys were gay. I never met a single person who identified as bisexual. I never met a woman who identified as lesbian. I had an uncle who was gay and it was a scandal because he was married to my aunt when this discovery was made. Queer representation on television hadn’t really started yet. There was no Queer Eye yet, no openly gay actors, no Call Me By Your Name books or movies (I mean, there probably was, but it wasn’t mainstream enough for supposed straight audiences to consume), so what I saw, who I was surrounded by, was straightness.

 

I knew I was attracted to women fairly frequently. I was in no denial about that. I gazed at attractive women just as I would a man. I fantasized about her. Sometimes, if the setting was right, there would be interaction, flirting, kissing, but then I would go home alone and never question anything beyond that.

 

As I got a little older, I felt like trying to discuss it. There was a girl once, a friend, we’ll call her K. I really liked her. She was sexy. She didn’t wear panties ever and I was so intrigued by that. She had a mole above her lip, Marilyn Monroe style, that I envied. She was gorgeous. We hung out often and I considered her a close friend. I felt safe talking to her. Turns out, she was extremely uncomfortable when I opened up about my interest in women. I didn’t even aim it at her. It was just a conversation, but she backed off after that. Probably for the best. She wasn’t my people.

 

My few other attempts to verbally explore my feelings toward women were met with similar results. Either the person backed off or they dismissed it as nothing more than youthful exploration. It didn’t mean anything, they would say. I didn’t question it. Maybe I didn’t want it to mean anything. I just kept going through my twenties doing what I did with girls, what I did with guys.

 

By the time I hit thirty, I had settled down with one guy. It was a serious relationship, but slowly, I realized that something was going on with him I didn’t recognize until it was too late. Knowing what I know now, I would definitely say he was probably a sex addict, or at least had some seriously unhealthy impulses. I could write several blog posts about him, but I won’t. (But I might.) What I will say is that his constant drive for sex turned me off. Big time. I was nothing but a vehicle for him. Earlier in our relationship, I had told him about my girl attraction, a decision I would come to regret. He spent untold hours trying to encourage a threesome with everyone from my friends to the cute waitress serving us at a restaurant. He made it a fetish and it was far from that for me. So I buried that part of me. Tucked it far away from the surface and categorized it under things I did but don’t define me. It’s a thick file.

 

Flash forward years later, I was single after the sex addict, and not interested at all in getting back on the horse. So I didn’t. I regret this now, but I’m making peace with it. I remained single and celibate for four years before I met the man who is now my husband. All that time I knew I still felt pings of attraction towards women. I still very much enjoyed viewing a feminine body or watching women do things I wished I had the nerve to do. But I never acted on it. Instead, I got married.

 

Which brings us to the last year or so. As I approach my fiftieth year on this planet, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching. Expected really, right? As I dipped my toe in writing gay romance, I wanted to make sure I represented the men I would write as authentically and respectfully as possible, so I dove into the gay community. I read blogs and listened to podcasts and talked to gay friends. I also found an online community of people living their truth. I’ve met gay men and women, bi men and women, transgendered men and women, pansexual, asexual, demisexual people. I’ve been exposed to the different gender identities and ways of loving others {Polyamory, I see you}. And hallelujah, I’ve discovered gay porn. I’ve not only learned so much, but I’ve been inspired by all of these stories. The more I read about their lives and other people in the LGBTQA+ community, the more my own truth started to push itself to the surface until I really sat down with myself and reflected on my life and experiences.

 

That led me to accepting and acknowledging that I am, indeed, bisexual. And proud as fuck about it. And that’s just the beginning of my story.

 

If any part of my story resonated with you, I’d love to hear your experience and thoughts in the comments below.

 

In the next episode, I’ll talk about coming out to my husband and bisexuality imposter syndrome.

Bi Babe Blog Episode 2: Lights Up

In my last post, I talked about my journey to accepting my own sexuality. That in and of itself was a pretty big task, but then I was faced with what to do with that information. Keeping it to myself seemed unauthentic to who I wanted to be, but telling people, especially (gulp) the man I married was terrifying. I didn’t even know who to tell. I feared judgement, of course, but mostly I had this sense of feeling exposed. Talking about your sexuality inevitably leads to talking about your sex life, or at least creates that curiosity in the minds of others. I wasn’t sure I was ready to reveal that part of my life to anyone, but I knew I had an obligation to at least tell my husband.

It wasn’t like the topic never came up. He knew I found the idea of being intimate with a woman intriguing. He knew I had done some experimenting when I was younger, but there had never been a discussion of what that meant for me in the present day. For me, it wasn’t just a matter of telling him this is my orientation, but I wanted to be honest about the fact that I wanted to explore that side of myself more- which obviously meant having sex with someone who wasn’t him. How would he react? Would he be jealous? Angry? Threatened? I also had to ask myself if that was really want I wanted and would I be prepared for his agreeing to it, but also opening up my marriage in others ways if he asked. How was I to know if this was opening Pandora’s box so to speak? What if he had some desires or hidden sexuality he wanted to explore? What if I became emotionally attached to someone? Could we be a poly marriage? I had to sort through these thoughts. I landed on two things:

It was fair to tell him.

It was fair to be open to his reaction and subsequent requests.

So I did. I sat down with him at dinner one night and voiced those words, “I’m bisexual”, and I explained that I wanted to explore it. His reaction was… heartwarming. He was kind, understanding, and asked a few questions about what that exploration looked like to me. His openness actually frightened me though. I realized this could happen. He was giving me the opportunity to embrace who I am and to introduce that into our relationship (I’m sure there was some hope he would benefit from this experience as well). We agreed this wasn’t going to be me signing up for a dating website and jumping right in, but continuing to define and explore what it means to me and keeping the communication open between us. I honestly have no idea how one goes about meeting women who would be open to this situation, but I’ll figure that out as I get to it. I have other things to work on in the interim.

Now about that coming out to other people part. I don’t know if Bisexual Imposter Syndrome is a real term but I do know that the bisexual community is not as understood or accepted as other members of the LGBTQ+ fam. It’s often met with comments like we’re just confused or haven’t accepted we’re gay. Or we’re greedy and oversexual people who refuse to pick a team. I’m 100% certain that I am not a closet lesbian. I’m highly attracted to men and always have been. I’m not confused. I didn’t label my sexuality until recently for many reasons. Partly the generation I grew up in. If I was twenty-five in 2019, I bet I’d run around with a bisexual flag taped to my clothes and tell anyone who would listen, but I was twenty-five over twenty years ago and that’s just not what we did (not in my circle anyway). The imposter syndrome comes from living as what appears to others as straight. Logically, I know that’s not how any of this works, but it’s judgement from others that gets in my way (the truth more often than I care to admit). ‘But you’re married to a man’ is a ridiculous argument to ‘how can you be bisexual’, but an argument I wasn’t ready to have. I also did not like the idea of expressing my sexuality and having people then look at me in a sexual light. It’s just human nature. It’s what we do, and I wasn’t ready for that.

On National Coming Out Day a few weeks back, I had this overwhelming conflict brewing in me. I wanted to “come out” on social media but I was terrified to do so. Instead, I came out to a small group of trusted friends, and I’ll tell you what, that was one of the most liberating things I’ve ever done. I finally felt like I didn’t have to edit myself anymore. They were accepting and gracious and the friends I needed them to be in that moment, and didn’t ask me one single question about my marriage or my sex life. It was really cool.

Shortly after that, this blog idea was born. After keeping all of this to myself for thirty years, I finally feel like talking and I have a lot to say. I want to encourage anyone reading this to know that whatever truth you may be keeping- whether it’s sexuality, health, fantasies, or anything else to find the one or two trusted people in your life and speak that truth. Open up and let them support you through it. I’m still looking for ways to boldly accept who I am without worrying what others think, but I have a long way to go. Just the other day someone made a comment that labeled me as straight and I could have corrected that comment, but the setting was right so I let it go, but given the opportunity to correct that person in the future I will. We have to stop assuming everyone is straight even when it appears to be the case on the surface. Being married to a man doesn’t make me straight. It makes me in a hetero relationship, but it doesn’t change my sexuality. I look forward to the day when no one has to “come out” anymore and who we love and desire is just that. Until that day though, I’ll keep defining and speaking my truth and I hope you’ll do the same.

Next up: Regrets and Resolutions

4 Replies to “Bi Babe Blog”

  1. Sharon says:

    There is nothing more amazing than living your truth. Glad you found your voice. I look forward to following your journey.💗

  2. Jennie says:

    I love your blog Mia and I absolutely adore getting to know you through your own words , you are unapologetically YOU and there is nothing better . You are brave , real and hugely relatable.
    This was such a great idea to start a personal blog , I can’t wait to see what you write next .
    Jennie 🖤

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