Labels are an easy solution that give us a sense of security in our lives. When we label something, we can come at it with a pre-determined set of ideas and suggestions on how to work with it, or work around it. Life is supposedly easier with labels, they cut down on complication, and keep everyone in their place. Neat little boxes that help us all exist without chaos.
There are obvious labels that help society function with certain understandings; parent, child, boss, employee, et cetera.
Then there are visual labels that define us by something obvious, part of our physical makeup: black, white, short, tall, fat, thin and so on.
And more often than not our career can define us. You can be labeled as a banker, doctor, lawyer, homeless person, artist and so on. Who you are in your working life becomes the label that you show to people and it influences their opinion of you from the moment you meet. It can be easier when you know someone’s profession to relate to them and find things in common to converse about. There are obvious associations attached to certain professions that you are probably safe to make assumptions about.
These are all easy labels to deal with. They are personal to our identities, but not too much so that they can harm us.
I am occasionally asked if I am polyamorous. When I say no, I’m asked then to define myself. If I’m not poly, then am I a swinger? Again, I say no. I’m in between, a little column a, a little column b. It’s us in-betweens that are causing some confusion at the moment, and we’re probably all a little confused ourselves.
I have personally gotten comfortable with the label of slut, and much to the horror and dismay of some of my protective friends, embrace it as part of my identity that I am happy to share with the world. (Sorry Mum!) In the words of The Ethical Slut: In most of the world, “slut” is a highly offensive term, used to describe a woman whose sexuality is voracious, indiscriminate and shameful. We are proud to reclaim the word “slut” as a term of approval, even endearment. To us, a slut is a person of any gender who has the courage to lead life according to the radical proposition that sex is nice and pleasure is good for you.
Now, what could be more true than that, I say?
Then there are the labels that most people don’t wear on their sleeves, and may not be talking points when being introduced to somebody new at a party. Those that some of us keep close to our hearts for personal reasons, and sometimes out of fear of persecution.
A tall, handsome doctor, might not be your first guess as a cross-dresser with a fetish for latex. And you might not know that the short, fat music student, is bi-curious and in lust with the girl that sits in front of her. The label that most of us so quickly assume others have is that of a straight person. It’s the identity that we place on everyone before we find out who they really are, unless they are wearing a particular style of hair or dress, and then “Gaydar” kicks in, and we make yet another identity assumption.
As we can see using Alfred Kinsey’s rating scale there can be many shades of gray to our sexual identity that we may experience at varying times in our lives. The expectations that we place on each other to be either completely straight or gay are unfair to not only each other, but ourselves.
Many people experience a degree of bisexual curiosity at some point in their lives. Bisexuals are sometimes labeled as indecisive by both the straight and gay communities. I’ve gotten plenty of flack for it myself, but what can I do, I enjoy people! Can I say that I’d be happy to fall in love with a woman, if I were single, and resort to a lesbian life? Perhaps, but I don’t do well with hypotheticals. I know that my current relationship, married to a man I adore, allows me to experience relationships with both men and women, if I choose to. How I would deal with these people if I were a single gal is anyone’s guess.
I’ve had people jokingly ask me, “So, are you a lesbian now?” when I’ve been involved with women, and their ignorance always makes me a little sad. I know plenty of girls who are bi-curious, they really want to get naked with a fellow chick and chow down. Or maybe they just like to admire a woman’s body, and that’s as far as they can ever go. It has no bearing on the type of friend, daughter or mother they are, but still we want to corner them, have them define themselves for us so that we can deal with who we perceive they are.
Society is more willing to accept bisexual women or lesbians than bisexual men or gay men. The media can show us an image of two women kissing and it’s perfectly normal, hot even. Can you imagine the public outcry if two men were to be shown even just almost kissing, on a beer commercial? The letters would pour in, get the filth off the air.
Does it really matter that I’m bisexual? It’s a part of who I am, but it’s not all of who I am. Being a writer also isn’t all of who I am, neither is being a wife. When someone asks me to tell them about myself, I don’t start with “Well, I’m married, currently unemployed and bisexual. And I’m also in an open relationship.” I tell them about my likes, my dislikes, my wants, my goals and my dreams. THAT’S who I am.
Does it really matter if a guy enjoys the sensation of something in his ass, during or not during sex, regardless of his orientation? Of course not, yet there’s this ignorant view out there that a boy liking something in the bum, must be a gay boy … right? If it feels good, do it, forget what it might make you appear.
The Straight Girl’s Guide to Sleeping With Chicks, sums it up quite nicely: Humans have been screwing anything that’ll hold still long enough since the beginning of time, and trying to figure out what and why in order to catalogue it all is a big fat waste of time.
Labels are an easy fix for people who need everything to make sense. If you’re not a lesbian, you must be straight. If you’re not straight, and not a lesbian, you’re “experimenting”. If you’re a regular guy on the outside, but like being degraded and serving a Mistress, you’re a freak.
We need to stop defining people by the things that make us the most comfortable, and appreciate people for who they are, not what or who they do. If you don’t fit into a neat little box, your existence is no less valid than the next person.
All I can tell you is to just be yourself, and leave the labels for the soup.
Next week: Part 2 of Soup Can Theories: BDSM labels and taboos
