Being bi doesn’t disappear just because no one sees it anymore. But yeah, sometimes it feels like it does. Here are seven ideas to stay connected.

How I keep my queerness* while loving a man

How to make space for queerness in a straight-presenting life

By Lisa Opel

Yes, you're still queer. Even if you're with a man. Even if the world forgets. Even if you haven’t kissed a woman in years. Still, sometimes it gets quiet, like a part of you is on mute. If that rings any bells, here’s how I keep mine turned on and present. It doesn’t take much. But it does take something.

You don’t need to prove it. But you might miss feeling it.

Let’s be clear. Being in a straight-presenting relationship doesn’t cancel out your queerness. You don’t owe anyone proof. You don’t need to tell strangers your backstory. You’re still you.

But sometimes, the feeling of queerness starts to slip a little. I’ve had weeks where I look in the mirror and feel oddly invisible to myself. Months where that part of me feels far away.

So, I started doing a few things to keep it close. Here’s what works for me.

*Side note: While I use “queer” and “bi” somewhat interchangeably in this piece, I’m very aware that they’re not the same thing. Language is personal, political, and always evolving. And this is just one voice among many. At Skirt Club, we welcome and speak to all women who consider themselves queer, bisexual, pansexual, or beautifully unlabelled. Curious about what the terms really mean (and why they matter)? Read our full article on love & labels [here].

How I stay queer (when it’s not obvious to anyone else)

1. Pay attention to what you feed your brain

What I watch, listen to, scroll through. It matters more than I thought. I follow queer women. I binge queer stories, both messy and soft. I stopped pretending that watching The L Word again is a guilty pleasure. It’s not. It’s maintenance. Heck, Bridgerton and Heated Rivalry is too. There’s something je ne sais quoi about seeing women (and men) like you, desire like yours, out in the open. It feels good and reminds you you’re still here (and still queer).

2. Write it down

When I miss that part of myself, I write. Sometimes it’s hot. Sometimes it’s just me remembering. Women I’ve been with, moments that meant more than I realised at the time, things I still want to try. I don’t reread it much. That’s not the point. Writing it gets it out though and makes it tangible again.

3. Flirt, if you want to flirt!

I still flirt with women. Lightly, respectfully, when it feels right. Sometimes it’s just eye contact and a smile. Sometimes I get bold. Either way, it keeps me in touch with that part of myself that notices. That wants. And no, it doesn’t have to go anywhere. That’s not the point.

4. Go where women are

Queer spaces do something to you. I’ve walked into events and felt my shoulders drop instantly. I could stop pretending or explaining. Even if I don’t talk to anyone, being around queer energy flips a switch.

Skirt Club does that for me. Always has. It’s unapologetically female, but never performative. It’s soft, playful, wild. Whatever you need it to be that night. And sometimes, you need that more than you realise.

5. Make queer things (or at least collect them)

Playlists, collages, saved screenshots. Half of it is just digital hoarding, but it works. I gather songs that remind me of nights out with girls. A couple of artists I can’t stop staring at. Quotes I’d never post but always reread. And go on and hang up that picture of boobs (you can both appreciate it!). It’s a way of building a world that reflects you back to yourself, especially when your outer life doesn’t. 

6. Touch yourself

I don’t wait for a partner to unlock that side of me. I fantasise about women. I use the toys I used with women. I think about softness, tension, the way women look when they want you. These fantasies and desires re-awaken my body.

7. Talk about it

When I can, I speak it out loud. I casually mention exes who weren’t men. I say I’m bi. And yes, I talk to my partner about it too. Luckily, I’m with someone who doesn’t flinch. He knows what turns me on. He knows women are part of that. He doesn’t feel threatened. If anything, he listens more. Not everyone can do that. But when you can, whether it’s a friend or stranger, it helps.

Queer bi day and queer bi night

Loving a man doesn’t undo you. But life gets noisy. And queerness can go quiet when no one else sees it anymore. That doesn’t mean it’s gone. It just means you might need to carve out a little space for it again.

So I do. I write. I fantasise. I talk. I flirt. I show up to spaces that don’t ask me to explain myself. I watch women take up space and remember that I do too.

And if you're feeling even a little out of touch, go to a Skirt Club night. Book the thing. Put something sexy on. Walk in like the version of yourself you miss a little. She’s not gone. She’s just waiting for the right room.

About Lisa Opel

Lisa Opel is a bisexual author, TEDx speaker, and unapologetic pleasure advocate. She is the author of two provocative books - GIVE IT TO ME! and SEX SEX SEX: Your Complete Sexuality Workbook - both bold, beautifully written explorations of eroticism, intimacy, and identity.

Lisa also hosts the bilingual podcast DEEP&DIRTY, where she dives into the real stories and juicy questions around sexuality, sensuality, and self-discovery. Her TEDx talk - Rediscovering sex after a dry spell - tackled the modern complexities of love, lust, and reclaiming desire.

As a CONFIDANTE to many women navigating their desires and identities, Lisa offers not just her services, her insights, a shoulder, but intimacy; creating spaces through her one-on-one sessions, workshops, writing, events, and live erotic readings where women feel seen, heard, and deliciously understood.