How It Feels to Date When You're Bigender

Photo: Korney Violin

Even as a kid, I knew I was different from other kids who were AMAB (assigned male at birth). I didn't feel a sense of rivalry with my female classmates, but rather, I was often compelled to befriend and socialize with them over the boys. They validated a part of me I wouldn't be prepared to deal with until many years later, when I'd accept that I was bigender.

You may be able to guess what being bigender means from the word itself. In the simplest terms, it means identifying with two genders. This can be male and female, or one of those two and something else. The distinction between a bigender person and a genderfluid person is that bigender people remain on two exclusive points of the gender binary while genderfluid people flow freely throughout the gender spectrum.

Bigender people may feel male one day and female the next. The identification is different for each person as some may live for years with one gender and suddenly switch to the other. Everyone can do it their own way.

I identify mentally, spiritually, and emotionally as female, and only physically as a male. My gender expression, which is different from gender itself, is feminine in both cases. 

Dating while feminine was hard enough (especially with the influences of homonormativity empowering anti-feminine, exclusive preferences in other gay men) but it became even more difficult, because despite my efforts from time to time, to butch it up, it never felt right. When I would try to be more "manly" for people I, became a square peg trying to fit into the triangle slot.

I faked my way through the few relationships I'd been in (trust issues and social anxiety make dating hard). I still felt at home amongst women and a stranger among men, but I couldn't tell anyone that. If I outed myself I'd invite inner- and outer-community oppression and remove any chance I thought I had of living a happy, fulfilling life. Who'd want to date something between male and female?!, I always thought to myself.

As children, boys are often told not to cry, or express their emotions, or play with dolls. Boys are shamed for feminine expression and for doing anything even remotely associated with womanhood. I remembered those times well, and saw it still in the denial of feminine gays by their peers. I couldn't be a feminine gay guy AND a female on the inside and ever hope to have a boyfriend. I spent most of my time in college alone, because it was easier and safer that way.

Then everything changed when I met my current partner.

I had no plans of telling him about my identity. I liked him too much for that. I was happy. But there was always something missing. It felt like I wasn't fully participating in the relationship. One day, he made the smallest little comment and it changed my life. My polite, Southern gentleman told me that, for some reason, he sometimes thought of me as female. He couldn't describe why, or even figure out where this idea came from, but he felt unfazed and delighted with this happy girl in a boy's body.

After that moment, I was able to break free and I spoke my truth out loud. Our relationship became stronger and significantly more valid. I was myself, for the first time ever, and I began telling everyone (I even proudly broadcast it in my Twitter bio).

Nothing in my dating life changed for the worse, because people are people and gender shouldn't be the largest determining factor in who we fall in love with. The only thing that really changed is that now he calls me his partner instead of his boyfriend. It was either that or "girl-boyfriend." I chose the former, but I've always got the latter in case 'partner' starts sounding too old.