Just another bi-femme in search of happiness

BARBARELLA KARPINSKI

I was outed by the Sydney Morning Herald in 1978. That was what happened publicly. In private, I was just a teenage girl trying to find happiness. I always knew I was bisexual.

I chain-smoked my way through to the time when the charges were dropped. All I remember of that time was the smell of clove cigarettes, having zero experiences girl-on-girl, and my new lesbian friends hating my mauve mascara. I came of age at a time when everyone wanted to tell me who I was, but no one asked what I liked. I learnt to tune out and it was some decades later I felt strong enough to be me.

I eventually got together with a girl from my share house who had picked me up from jail who liked my mauve mascara. She had a boyfriend too and he had a boyfriend who had a girlfriend. There was no name for it then. Bisexual? I only ever heard bisexual as term of criticism usually said with an eyeroll, by gays and lesbians or as a kinky come-on by cis guys.

It was a decade later that my good experiences with other bisexuals into open relationships was something that made me shine again. I have never looked back.

Eventually, I moved into Newtown with a girl and a boy, played the Ramones on repeat on the scratchy record player, and we happily spacey-janed our way into the 80s and beyond. A Mrs Nosy Next door body told my mum and dad: “your daughter has a boy and girl in that bedroom”.

They remarked over the splintered grey fence, “My daughter can do what she likes Mrs Busy body”. We never spoke again. An extra high rose vine was planted by that neighbour.

Unfortunately, all were not so cool as my own bohemian family who had been maligned by just about everyone, for being supportive of gay rights after my teenage jailbird status got around. They wanted me to settle down. I had other plans like filmmaking and became an exotic dancer.

The concept that you could love more than one person at once and in different ways was one that I grasped easily. The concept that love is serial and one at a time I could never could. I felt to be true to my fluid nature, I would never marry.

The only vanilla I really like is on a waffle cone, preferably with a dark cherry on top. I think marriage as an end game in relationships, for the GLBTIQ plus community, means that adventurous possibilities may be lost for the next generation as we swipe right and miss the fun of playtime. When the “marriage equality” honeymoon is over, I will explain my provocative viewpoint from the perspective of a 78er, a teenage baby femme virgin abused and arrested, albeit in a floral frock with flip flops on. I am currently writing my memoir: Tainted Messy Queer Beautiful Life. Stay tuned.

Madonna at the Grammy awards spoke about the rebels being listened to at last. The 2023 Grammy awards were a place where multiple generations celebrated diversity of race, gender, body size, sexuality. But as Maddy may agree, ageism and sexuality are still a big hurdle.

B for bisexuality was never presented to me in my youth as a viable option. People said I was complicated, confused. I prefer the term omni or pansexual now as it includes all genders in their beautiful expansive glory, but because of all the bi-bashing I like to reclaim the term "bisexuality" in the same way lesbians and gays like to reclaim dyke and poof.

I have experienced romantic and sexual intimacy with more than a few genders. My preferences and nuances change over time. I am versatile, sometimes queer, always kinky. The biggest sex toy we all possess is the mind. Never underestimate the power of the imagination. 

Walking down Oxford Street recently during Sydney World Pride, I noticed flags for some of the 300 flags for diverse genders and sexualities. Abrosexuality means having fluid sexual and romantic attractions throughout your life.  The Greek root abro means “delicate” or “graceful,” and symbolises the movement and changing nature of people who are abrosexual.

My proclivities do change as I surprise myself. I respond to the felt and experienced world, not to labels.

Reading On Our Backs, an erotic mag from San Francisco in the nineties was a powerful moment for me. It was also weird to walk into a sex shop on my own, up the staircase and into the red-light zone. I learnt that femme women could do more than look pretty and prop up their butch dyke’s life. I bought my own dildo and gave up carrying my butch’s one in my handbag. I sought independence from butch/femme roles and read femme icon, Joan Nestle’s, The Persistent Desire.

Many women I met of that era were not into dildos, as they were regarded as too phallic, leading to a range of bizarre-shaped dolphin toys. I was really excited to read On Our Backs and started getting the magazines sent to me by snail mail. Sexuality existed before the internet. I found it liberating performing on stage in Wicked Women.

These days I identify as gender diverse and switch roles. I love versality.

I have had awesome relationships with people of all genders as well as bad sexual experiences. I think it’s got nothing to do with gender. Sometimes women lovers would say to me that because we are the same, we know what each other likes. I disagree. We are all unique. Bad lovers are just into their own little world. Generous lovers come in all genders.

The best lovers are the ones who listen, are curious and want to give pleasure. 

I have played with cross dressers, people with pussies and penises, vulvas and fleshlights, had affairs with stone butches, lipstick and lollipop lesbians, fluffy femmes and gender diverse individuals. A long list. Judge me if you dare. I think the one thing I can truly say is that good lovers are good communicators, and that is always appreciated, even in “casual” sex that is never that casual. If a lover is interested in your needs, your feelings, then that will probably lead to a good experience, sometimes ephemeral.

And lastly, I am bisexual no matter the identity of my paramours.  As I age disgracefully, my biggest challenge is the stereotypes of aging. I believe in intergenerational communications however when one Z genner was telling me about their pole performances, and I responded by telling them about my exotic dancing, they said: “How many years ago was that?” “Oh, like yesterday darling,” I said.