First is probably a non-issue for those who don't experience depression. It probably isn't such an issue either for people who don't take it personally when people miss seemingly obvious points and seem incapable of freaking listening to facts (that this gets under my skin is something I finally figured out about myself recently).
Thing is, I get so exhausted and frustrated and even depressed from people spouting stupid stuff about bisexuals, and by bad news in the queer world, that this prevents me from engaging in the bi community at times. Actually, for much of the past year or so. Which is sad when I think about it, since I do want to be talking to other bisexuals about bi related stuff.
What's the solution? I don't know. But I know I can't be the only one feeling like this (and I'm sure there are others who feel like me for each of the letters in the LGBT+ world) so I thought it an important point to bring up.
The other thing I noticed is that I still have the habit of making assumptions about sexual orientations. This is despite the fact that I don't like it when others assume I'm straight...something that's inevitable when I'm out with my boyfriend. I was reminded that I do this, however, when I found out this week that someone I've assumed to be straight is actually bi like me.
What really amazes me is that this happened despite a similar thing happening last summer. As I was talking to a new friend who I knew had a boyfriend, she mentioned previous girlfriends. That took me off guard, and I'd thought I learned my lesson about making assumptions. Obviously though, I'm still learning.
The moral of this particular story? I guess it's that people can try their best, and still fall short of what they want for the world. But the important thing is that we keep trying.
I'd like to end this particular post with a poem that illustrates why it is that I think about my sexual orientation daily, as I mention above. It's written and recited by Ashley Mardell, someone who is gay/bisexual/pansexual/queer...she uses different terms at different times. It's a poem I keep returning to.