Nowhere to bi: Barriers to belonging in the broader LGBTQ+ community for Aboriginal bi+ people in Australia

Abstract

Having a multiplicity of identities not only makes it difficult to find inclusive spaces for Aboriginal bisexual+ (bi) people but may often be a barrier to building connections and relationships with people who have other queer identities. Bi + identities alone are often rendered invisible, unintelligible or erased when it comes to inclusion and solidarity among their peers. An intersectional lens is used to reflexively investigate existing literature to explore how a lack of solidarity among lateral communities may impact Aboriginal bi + people in Australia who face an array of racism and queerphobia from both LGBTQ + and Aboriginal communities. These unique and multifaceted layers of discrimination greatly impact mental health and wellbeing. These experiences stem from the heterosexist and monosexist status quo from heteropatriarchal settler colonialism that is seen in both Aboriginal and LGBTQ + communities respectively. As a result, Aboriginal queer people are constantly surveying risks, policing their own identities and identity expression, often hiding parts of their identity as a survival strategy to avoid rejection and adhere to dominant cultural norms. When specifically considering Aboriginal bi + identities, there are added unique stressors of lateral violence with other LGBTQ + groups, antibisexual prejudice, and assumed monosexuality, adding additional layers of minority stress. The author explores these experiences by extending upon borderland theory and minority stress models. Whilst there is solace in the holistic celebration of intersecting identities in emerging intersectional Aboriginal queer spaces, there is still a great need for solidarity and celebration of Aboriginal bi + people within the broader LGBTQ + community.

Keywords:

• Indigenous
• bisexual
• LGBTIQA
• queer
• bi-erasure

Manuscript

Terminology

When referring to Australia’s First Peoples, multiple terminology is used throughout literature including Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander, Indigenous Australians, and First Nation peoples. This article will predominantly use the term ‘Aboriginal’ as it is most used in the explored literature. ‘Sistergirl’ is a term for Aboriginal transwomen from the Tiwi Islands (though the term is sometimes adopted by other Aboriginal trans and gender diverse women), though this definition is a Western oversimplification that does not acknowledge the sovereignty to Country that sistergirls hold (Riggs & Toone, 2017). ‘White’ with a capital ‘w’ is used to describe the racialised social structure of whiteness rather than physical skin pigmentation. LGBTQ + is an umbrella term for all diverse sexual, sex, and gender identities; and is used interchangeably with ‘queer’ as it is often used as a more inclusive term. ‘Bi+’ is used as an umbrella term (Eisner, 2013) for non-monosexual (i.e., not heterosexual or gay/lesbian) identities (i.e., those who experience sexual and/or romantic attraction to more than one gender). Whilst grouping multi-gender attracted identities is ideologically inclusive and may be helpful to explore common experiences, it should be noted that subsuming these identities risks minimising their differences and may be invalidating (Hayfield, 2021). ‘Bisexual’ will be used if a study specifically states only bisexual identities (i.e., does not mention other multi-gender attracted identities). ‘Biphobia’ is the prejudice, hatred or fear towards bisexual people (Eisner, 2013), often underpinned by monosexism. ‘Monosexual’ is used to describe those who are attracted to a single sex/gender. Lastly, ‘monosexism’ is the covert and overt alienation, othering, and subsequent invalidation of multi-gender attracted identities in discussions of sexualities which contribute to bi + invisibility and erasure (Nelson, 2020).

Introduction

Community connection and belonging are vital for many marginalised groups (Rostosky et al., 2010), particularly for Aboriginal queer (particularly bi+) people who face several layers of discrimination from multiple communities (Henningham, 2021). These experiences of exclusion and marginalisation continue to negatively impact mental health and social and emotional wellbeing (Soldatic et al., 2021). The following article explores existing literature to unpack the erasure, invisibility and unintelligibility of bi + identities with a focus on intersectional identities including bi + people of colour and Aboriginal queer people. These exclusions are the culmination of experiencing racism, shadeism/colourism (privileging people of colour with lighter skin tones (Hunter, 2007)), biphobia, monosexism, and heterosexism in Aboriginal communities, the LGBTQ + community, and the broader population (Hill et al., 2021). These barriers to belonging across multiple communities for Aboriginal queer (especially bi+) people. The article begins by decolonising sexuality to contextualise these identities via exploring colonial concepts of queerness, querying precolonial queerness in Australia, and a brief discussion on homonationalism (as an extensive discussion on this discourse is beyond the scope of this article). This is followed by exploring how this results in racial and sexual minority stress (Meyer, 2003) and by identifying how Aboriginal bi + people experience exclusion from multiple communities. The article then centres identity expression in Aboriginal, and bi + communities, including how these expressions may be discriminated against by others. This leads into discussions surrounding relationships, racism and stigma including the notion of unintelligible identities, and how the misunderstandings of bi + and diverse Aboriginal identities are underpinned by what is conceptualised as ‘settler monosexism’. This article then moves away from deficit models to visit some strengths-based experiences of intersecting identities to highlight the capabilities and capacities of this population (Bryant et al., 2021). Finally, recommendations are made on how to improve solidarity and inclusion for Aboriginal bi + people in broader communities in Australia by denaturalising settler colonialism via fostering inclusive and welcoming spaces across multiple communities and institutions, increasing cross-community education, and creating bi + specific spaces.

Whilst it is important to understand the histories, experiences, and barriers of both bi + people and Aboriginal as separate identities, it is essential that we explore these issues through an intersectional framework (Crenshaw, 1991). Intersectionality allows for the investigation of these lived experiences of Aboriginal bi + people (and in some respects, the broader Aboriginal queer community) by acknowledging the interrelationship between culture, race, sexuality, and gender, and of these people as dynamic individuals.

At times, this article will refer to borderland identities; a model created by Gloria Anzaldúa who theorised her experiences of holding onto two power-imbalanced cultures on the border of Mexico and the USA (Anzaldúa, 1987). This theory has since been applied to bisexuality and other intersectional identities to explore how those with dual (or more) identities move through and experience worlds of varying power imbalances (Callis, 2014; Henningham, 2021).

As research with a specific focus Aboriginal bi + people is scarce in Australia, broader studies will also be explored including Aboriginal queer studies, bi + identities, and bi + people of colour as they experience many of the same, or at least similar, forms of prejudice. Whilst comparisons will be made with non-Indigenous bi + or queer Australians where possible, it should be noted that the majority of bi + literature stems from the United Kingdom, United States and Canada with, whilst often not intentional, predominantly White participants. Some international authors note the need for further research with non-White populations and other marginalised groups who are not often engaged in research (Nelson, 2020). This recommendation is similarly reflected in Australian research as Aboriginal queer people are primarily reflected as a small percentage of larger queer studies (Robinson et al., 2014; Smith et al. 2014) rather than a primary focus. The lack of Aboriginal queer research has been acknowledged in recent publications (Soldatic et al., 2021) and reports which additionally confirm underrepresentation in queer service provision despite experiencing unique barriers (Australian Human Rights Commission, 2015; Dudgeon et al., 2015; National LGBTI Health Alliance, 2016; Northern Territory Mental Health Coalition, 2017).

Existing frameworks such as Callis (2014) use of borderland theory applied to bi + identities, and Meyer’s (2003) model of minority stress will be applied to existing literature to further understand the compounded stressors faced by of Aboriginal bi + people.

Decolonising sexuality

Understanding Aboriginal bi + identities first requires the deconstruction of colonialism and queerness. During various periods of colonisation globally, numerous Christian missionaries labelled and demonised diverse and dynamic queer identities in Indigenous populations to establish White, heteronormative dominance (Hamilton, 2010), synonymising Indigenous groups with queerness over time (Morgensen, 2010). This association marked them for execution under the theoretical laws of necropolitics (political and social powers that dictate who may or may not live (Mbembe, 2003)). These imposed nationalist and heteronormative constructions of gender and sexuality are known as ‘settler sexuality’ which became hegemonic in non-Indigenous and Indigenous populations due to colonisation (Morgensen, 2010).

In Australia, Anglo Eurocentric Christian missionaries swept through New South Wales in the nineteenth century vilifying the ‘awful crime of “sodomy”’ (an act rather than a sexual identity) while simultaneously making no efforts to understand Aboriginal knowledges of sex and sexuality (Hannah & Macfarlane, 2007). Documented heterocentric Australian histories are void of gender and sexual diversity in Aboriginal groups (Baylis, 2015) despite research finding that sistergirls were valued community members since pre-colonisation (Riggs & Toone, 2017). Given many Aboriginal knowledges are oral, countless histories have been lost or erased which may include precolonial cultural understandings of sexual and gender diversity. However, recovering these histories would illustrate that gender and sexuality is neither queer nor heteronormative as epistemologically, these labels themselves are colonial concepts (Clark, 2014; Monaghan, 2015).

Since colonisation, Aboriginal people were forced to adhere to the values of settler sexuality including the perpetuation of queerphobia (Whittaker, 2015). These inherited colonised attitudes seen in some Aboriginal spaces, and are now reprimanded by White, liberal homonormative groups, creating a full cycle of colonial disruption (Whittaker, 2015). An example of this is seen in Clark (2014) who analysed one divisive online debate over whether or not queerness is accepted as part of ‘real’ Aboriginal culture; one side was rooted in conservatism and savagery, stating that ancestors would ‘have their heads’ (i.e., punish, execute) for it, while the other side stemmed from a ‘civilised’ or western acceptance of diverse sexualities. This demonstrates the divisive issues on what being ‘authentically’ Aboriginal means (Clark, 2014). Further, both ends of the argument are rooted in colonisation; the values of settler sexuality, and the acknowledgement of a labelled sexuality (rather than the fluidity of unnamed sexual diversity). This emphasises the seeming ‘incompatibility’ of Aboriginal and queer cultures, creating a cultural division or ‘borderland’.

These divisions are underpinned by the question of whether queerness is rooted in Aboriginal culture, or if it is a product of White liberal ideologies; yet this questioning dissembles Aboriginal ways of being and it becomes an act of policing Aboriginality (Whittaker, 2015). This phenomenon of colonising actions that disguise other colonising structures is known as ‘deep colonisation’ (Whittaker, 2015). When deep colonisation is combined with arguments around what it means to be ‘authentically Aboriginal’ it leaves few safe spaces for Aboriginal queer people, often leading them to instead compartmentalise their identities (Whittaker, 2015). These layers of contention become compounded, a phenomenon that can be better understood by exploring these experiences under minority stress models (Bowleg et al. 2003; Galupo et al., 2019; Meyer, 2003).

Compounded burdens of multicultural, racial and sexual minority stress

The compounding of both marginalised racial and sexual identities results in communities that experience racial discrimination, heterosexism, cissexism, and queerphobia, a phenomenon often known as the ‘double burden of racial and sexual minority stress’, a term adapted from the sexual minority stress model (Galupo et al., 2019; Meyer, 2003). These stressors include distal prejudices like discrimination and violence, and proximal stressors such as concealing one’s identity, internalised biphobia and fearing identity-based rejection. There are specific stigmas and prejudices that bi + people experience such as invisibility, erasure, contested identities, and having their identities silenced (Bostwick & Hequembourg, 2014). Bi + erasure and invisibility have been noted as key contributors to increased anxiety, depression, and suicidality (Feinstein & Dyar, 2017; McInnis et al., 2022; Miller et al., 2022; Taylor et al., 2019). The erasure and invisibility of bi + identities are so widely entrenched that when Google recently released a LGBTQ + glossary of terms, they omitted the inclusion of ‘bisexual’ and ‘pansexual’ identities (Browning, 2021). Further, this list was assembled by a team of queer people, an illustration of the erasure that happens not just in public domains, but even within the broader queer community.

Another intersectional frame can be used to explore experiences of everyday racism via the multicultural model of stress (Bowleg et al. 2003). Slavin et al. (1991) noted how people of colour experience "racism and subtle oppression are ubiquitous, constant, continuing, and mundane as opposed to an occasional misfortune" (Pierce, 1975, p. 195). As well as everyday experiences of oppression, Aboriginal queer people constant racism within queer and heterosexual communities as well as queerphobia in their Aboriginal community (Hill et al., 2021). Discrimination specific to bi + identities, such as invisibility and erasure, may further internalise negative experiences.

When investigating other unique stressors faced by those with dual-identities, bisexual people who did not speak the language/s of their ethnoracial cultures had heightened feelings of isolation and stress compared to those who did (Ghabrial, 2019). One participant in Ghabrial’s (2019) study expressed how they avoided communicating with other queer people of their shared ethnic background because they could not speak the language, voicing feelings of shame and awkwardness for being unknowledgeable about their own culture. This withdrawal may also be interpreted as a form of self-sabotage, reminiscent of the ‘covert’ internalised homophobia (or stigmas) where one is comfortable with their identity, yet continuously makes efforts to sabotage it (Gonsiorek, 1988). Peer avoidance due to shame (which may also compound into internalised stigma), may also lead to sabotaging potentially enriching connections. Disengagement and peer avoidance with one’s ethnic community can act as an additional stressor, resulting in both racial and sexual minority stress. It is important to iterate that this self-sabotage is not to be blamed on individuals who experience this, as it occurs due to the marginalisation they have been subjected to. Aboriginal queer people who grew up White or not on Country (‘Country’ is the lands, waters and skies one’s family, ancestors, culture and kinship is connected to [CommonGround, N.D]) may also share this experience, avoiding cultural connections out of fear of rejection (Henningham, 2021).

Exclusion from multiple communities and dis identification

Aboriginal queer people experience exclusion from both their Aboriginal community, and the LGBTQ + community. For example, 73% of Aboriginal queer people in Western Australia reported experiencing some form of discrimination in their daily lives, with one third of participants feeling invisible in their cultural community due to their queerness (Hill et al., 2021). Those who were recognised did not necessarily feel welcome: 21% did not feel accepted by their community, while a further 22.6% did not feel accepted by Elders (highly respected, often older community members who hold cultural knowledges and wisdom (Korff, 2020)). A total of 36% opted not to disclose their sexual identity in their communities at all. Aboriginal people outside the gender binary also experienced community rejection, particularly for those who did not confirm to gender norms (Aboriginal Health Council of South Australia, 2019). This statement is supported in other literature that noted how culturally normative women’s and men’s groups often alienate eager LGBTQ + community members (Farrell, 2020; Uink et al., 2020). Additionally, Aboriginal people who are gender diverse are frequently misgendered, often addressed as either ‘sis’, ‘brother’ or ‘sistergirl’, resulting in often feeling excluded and invisible (Dudgeon et al., 2015; Uink et al., 2020). As these Aboriginal English terms include gendered words, this evolution of language has colonial roots stemming from the ideologies of settler sexuality.

These experiences of exclusion may highlight the need or desire to conceal one or more identities or ‘disidentify’ (Muñoz, 1999) for protection from community rejection. This survival strategy of disidentification is more than picking and choosing an identity, it requires cautious ‘work on, within, and against’ the social norms of the dominant culture (Muñoz, 1999, p.12). This exclusion is why some choose to move off Country away from their cultural community to seek more welcoming queer communities. However, doing so creates a loss of connection to Country, contributing to feelings of isolation and loss (Uink et al., 2020).

Geography matters when it comes to negative experiences for many queer identities. Whilst research is limited, one qualitative study found Aboriginal queer young people experience queerphobia more frequently in rural, conservative communities (Soldatic et al., 2021). Further, feelings of isolation in rural areas are common for both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people, as non-Aboriginal bisexual women reported negative experiences in rural queer communities in Australia, reporting they often felt invisible (Grant & Nash, 2018). They too engaged in disidentification as a survival strategy in favour of ‘ordinary or ambiguous’ labels to avoid stigma and discrimination (Grant & Nash, 2020). This is supported by findings in the national report ‘Growing Up Queer’ which identified poor mental health and fewer positive coming out experiences for queer young people in rural areas compared to their heterosexual counterparts in Australia (Robinson et al., 2014). These similar experiences across multiple identities are unsurprising given that ‘rural culture is often associated with traditional gender roles, conservatism, patriarchy, fundamental religiosity, heteronormative family structures, and conformity’ (Barefoot et al., 2015, p. 22). In contrast, some Aboriginal queer young people noted feeling supported and safe in urban queer spaces, while others experienced racism in these communities (Soldatic et al., 2021).

For example, Hill et al. (2021) found that 40% of Aboriginal queer people experienced microaggressions in the LGBTQ + community, with less than half (45.2%) feeling a sense of belonging in these spaces. These negative social attitudes may become internalised, resulting in Aboriginal queer people often opting to conceal their Aboriginality to avoid rejection while constantly examining safety risks (Meyer, 2003).

Additionally, light-skinned Aboriginal people are often forced into a position of defending their identity to both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities. This form of discrimination becomes more multifaceted when considering those who are Aboriginal and queer. Experiencing these layers of discrimination from multiple communities (Aboriginal/non-Aboriginal/queer/heterosexual) contributes to feelings of isolation and invisibility. One Aboriginal bisexual participant in Hill et al. (2021) articulated how,

‘as bi-sexual and white-passing, my experience is less about discrimination and moreabout invisibility. I feel like I have to constantly declare and prove my identity, andsometimes I don’t want to because I expect discrimination if I do.’

(p. 28). This participant must constantly defend both of his identities as a bi+, light-skinned Aboriginal person; an example of how non-Aboriginal non-queer people often find each of these identities unintelligible.

Identity expression

Performing and negotiating one’s identity is prominent in everyday social contexts and relationships, especially for those with intersecting identities (Hayfield, 2021; Hegde, 2002). As there are many complexities to Aboriginal identities (due to historical and ongoing colonial contexts, and the plurality of Aboriginal communities), identity expression is greatly varied (Carlson, 2016). Some Aboriginal people place great importance on visibly expressing their Aboriginality, particularly those who are not ‘recognisable’ as Aboriginal people such as those of dual heritage (having family from two different ethnic or cultural backgrounds) or who are light skinned (Farrell, 2016; Henningham, 2021). There are also tensions around identity expression with many experiencing the push-pull of either being of dual heritage who struggle to represent (or walk the borderland of) both cultures, or those who grew up White (both culturally, and those with light skin), having their Aboriginality questioned in public spheres, even by other Aboriginal people (Carlson, 2016). These identities may also be walking the border of ‘white-passing’/not ‘white-passing’, which can afford one the safeties of White privilege, though may also subject one to identity interrogation. Although I am averse to the concept of ‘passing’, it is used here to illustrate dominant power structures and power imbalances.

Similar to those of dual heritage, or Aboriginal people with light skin, bi + identities also walk the line of a borderland identity expression. Sexual identity is often perceived by how one performs gender, for example, how the masculine appearance of ‘butch’ lesbians (Clarke & Turner, 2007). Interpretation of identity expression becomes more nuanced when exploring bi + identities, as this community walks on the borderland of queer/heterosexual and feminine/masculine, leaving minimal space for a uniquely bi + identity expression or ‘look’ in these dichotomies (Henningham, 2021). Though this ambiguity allows for playful experimentation with both feminine and masculine self-expression (Hayfield, 2021), the lack of specific bi + identifiers make it difficult to ‘flag’ one’s identity, even to other bi + people (Hayfield et al., 2014; Nelson, 2020).

The lateral stigma experienced by bi + people often invoke pressures to present a certain way to feel accepted, to justify their presence in queer spaces or to even avoid queer spaces completely. For example, a bi + participant in Miller et al. (2022) felt they did not look queer enough for queer spaces, ‘I feel a bit out of place… I look like every other straight white dude… Isolated would be too strong of a word but I don’t feel like I exactly fit in’ (p. 25). This lack of a recognisable bi + identity contributes to the bi + invisibility felt across multiple communities. Further, feeling like one does not look ‘queer enough’, experiencing the need to justify one’s presence in a queer community, or the apparent need to add or subtract specific identity performances to ‘prove’ their queerness, even to other bi + identities affirms the internalised biphobia that bi + people experience as a result of feeling unwelcome in queer communities (Callis, 2014; Chard et al., 2015; Henningham, 2021).

In addition to gender performativity, sexual identity may also be assumed by the gender of one’s partner (Gustavson, 2009; McLean, 2007). When in relationships, bi + people often have their identity removed by others; being bisexual is erased and they are now seen by others as being in a gay/lesbian or heterosexual relationship (Bostwick & Hequembourg, 2014; Gonzalez et al., 2017; Hayfield et al., 2018). For example, a participant in the #stillbisexual campaign stated,

‘Since then I’ve been called/“a watered down gay” by straight folk/“a fake faggot” by gay folk/I’ve been told “it’s just a phase” by gay and straight folks/I was never gay or straight enough./But I’ve always been bisexual enough. [sic]’

(Gonzalez et al., 2017). This phenomenon also occurs for bi + who identify outside of the gender binary; not only are assumptions of their sexuality made by others, but they are also reduced to an assumed binary gender (Hayfield et al., 2018). Further, this monosexist gender performativity may become internalised, encouraging the need to seek the social safety of confining oneself to the prescribed gender binary, continuing a hegemonic heterosexist and transphobic society (Nelson, 2020). Both examples above exemplify the reductive, monosexist normative dichotomies that are imposed upon diverse sexualities and genders outside of binary understandings.

What both Aboriginal (particularly those who are of dual heritage or are pale skinned) identities and bi + identities share is the vigilance to consistently scrutinise one’s actions, presentations, and behaviours to ensure they adhere to community cultural norms (Callis, 2014). This self-surveillance illustrates the desire for recognition and acceptance in their respective communities. For those with a multiplicity of identities, expressing one identity often comes at the detriment of another, particularly if one is overtly more visible. For example, a bisexual woman of colour in Ghabrial (2019) stated, ‘the visibility of my racial identity tends to other me from the circles I want to feel welcome in, and it is the same with the invisibility of my queer identity’ (p. 179). This example emphasises the difficulties of expressing all of one’s identities simultaneously compiled with the lack of autonomy in how they are received or prioritised by others, if at all. Therefore, self-expression is fragmented and is constantly being renegotiated regardless of the social context.

These daily negotiation/re-negotiations of identity are a culmination of Aboriginal, Western, historical, and queer discourses (Carlson, 2016). The hypervigilance of self-policing one’s own borderland identity often requires compartmentalisation; to present as a fractured self to simply gain access (or ‘crossing’ the borderland) to a desired community. Further, this monitoring or code-switching is an emotionally laborious task, contributing to the double burden of racial and sexual minority stress. For Aboriginal bi + who are light skinned, this culminates in experiencing additional and unique forms of discrimination including shadeism and monosexism from multiple communities. These forms of stigma and prejudice are particularly apparent when exploring Aboriginal bi + identities and relationships.

Racism, stigma and relationships

When it comes to dating, Hill et al. (2021) found that Aboriginal queer people experienced discrimination most frequently as an Aboriginal person, rather than a queer person. This was particularly true for those who had darker skin and subsequently, presented a more ‘visible’ Aboriginal identity, ‘discrimination in my life has mostly come from being Aboriginal, I can hide the fact that I'm queer but I can’t change the colour of my skin’ (p. 27). These acts of discrimination may become further exasperated online.

Online dating apps are a platform where Aboriginal people are frequently exposed to ‘sexual racism’, a form of racism that occurs in intimate or sexual environments (Bedi, 2015; Carlson & Day, 2021) and can lead to Aboriginal people experiencing threats of violent sexual assault (Carlson & Day, 2021). As many of these apps are location-based, perpetrators are often nearby furthering concerns for one’s physical safety (Wilson, 2020). Other participants described being fetishised for their ‘exotic’ looks while instantaneously being either unmatched or met with hostility once Aboriginality was disclosed. These acts of sexual racism and threats of assault were so severe that many app users had increased anxiety levels around engaging in dating apps, many chose to censor information on their profiles, or opted to disengage from dating apps altogether (Carlson & Day, 2021). As such, it is no surprise that another study found that 41.9% of Aboriginal queer people opted not to disclose their Aboriginality on dating apps (Hill et al., 2021). This was largely attributed to fears of rejection, discrimination, and being exposed to racial stereotypes such as being on welfare, or comments about their appearance, often being told they ‘did not look Aboriginal’ or looked ‘White’ (Hill et al., 2021).

This scrutiny of skin colour reflects how many non-Aboriginal people not only find pale-skinned Aboriginal people unintelligible, but often burdens Aboriginal queer people with the unwanted emotional labour of educating others. Additionally, this may reflect the broader populations’ lack of awareness (or unwillingness to acknowledge) understanding of how historical efforts to eradicate Aboriginal people has resulted in diverse looking Aboriginal people of many different skin tones today. These multiple forms of racism experienced on dating apps is an example of the ongoing colonial violence towards Aboriginal people (Carlson & Day, 2021). Conversely, whilst free of the minority stressors of racism, community exclusion and the interrogation of identity are microaggressions also shared by the bi + community.

Negative attitudes and microaggressions from others impact one’s sense of belonging. Bostwick and Hequembourg (2014) identified multiple microaggressions experienced by bisexual women; themes included hostility, dating exclusion, pressure to change their identity, identity legitimacy, hypersexuality, and the denial and dismissal of their identity. Microaggressions around denial and dismissal often disregard bi + identities by mislabelling them as ‘confused’ or ‘undecided’ (Anderson & McCormack, 2016). For example, bi + women may be stereotyped of being ‘non-committal to a lesbian identity’ and are often suspected to eventually leave a queer relationship for a heterosexual one. These assumptions leave bi + women feeling unsupported by friends in the lesbian community, barricading them from possible partners and creating a barrier to community engagement (Chmielewski & Yost, 2013).

Exclusion also occurs from both heterosexual and queer communities (Gonzalez et al., 2017). A bi + woman in Bostwick and Hequembourg (2014) reflected,

‘I came out as bi, it was with a woman, lord knows coming out’s hard. It was really hard because I was leaving [a] relationship. I was then ostracised from that community and I was told that I was making it [the bisexual identity] up by both parties, by both male and female’ (p. 494)

The dismissal and denial of an identity outside of the monosexist binary perpetuates bi + erasure and forces bi + people to continuously reassert their sexuality to combat stereotypes of being in denial or ‘confused’ (Anderson & McCormack, 2016). This is reflected in many of the narratives from the #stillbisexual campaign as participants defended and asserted their enduring and immoveable identities, who stated their bisexuality had ‘always been’, was not malleable, and could not be changed (Gonzalez et al., 2017).

Microaggressions of unintelligibility contain confusion and misunderstanding (Bostwick & Hequembourg, 2014). One participant stated, ‘it is getting a lot of confusion from straight people, not knowing, none understanding what you say about yourself when you tell them that you’re bi’ (Bostwick & Hequembourg, 2014, p. 495). Another participant in the same study explained how invisibility underpins unintelligibility;

‘When I was with a man in a long-term relationship, it meant different things [to bebisexual]. To identify as bisexual. I had to work really hard and come out constantlyto be seen. I started feeling almost like a fool, like ‘No, no, over here, really, I'm notwhat you think I am, I'm a different thing.’ (Bostwick & Hequembourg, 2014, p. 495).

While many bi + people express a strong desire to be seen as a bi + person, this ideology can get lost in relationships. Hayfield et al. (2018) found that despite this need to be individually recognised, many bi + people did not describe their relationships as bi+. This may indicate a deeply ingrained internalised biphobia; by only acknowledging lesbian/gay or heterosexual relationship identities, the concept of a ‘bi + relationship’ appeared unintelligible even to themselves. This is a prime example of how these microaggressions contribute to the invisibility, erasure and severity of internalised stigmas felt by bi + people and the efforts needed to be seen and understood in a monosexist world.

Thus far, the literature explored identified intrinsic barriers to community inclusion faced by those who embody a multiplicity of identities who experience varying levels of racial and sexual minority stress. It could be hypothesised that the ongoing negotiation and renegotiation of identity and identity expression, how one communicates with others in the dominant culture they are in, combined with the continuous onslaught of identity interrogation has cumulative detrimental effects on mental health and social and emotional wellbeing. These negative experiences and associated emotions (e.g. isolation, depression, anxiety, loss, sadness, etc.) may be compounded further for Aboriginal bi + people with light skin as they are forced to defend two unintelligible identities in the uphill battle against what could be conceptualised as ‘settler monosexism’; the unique forms of discrimination that include both individual and systemic racism that stems from ongoing colonisation and colonial ideologies, and biphobia rooted in monosexist hegemony. When specifically considering Aboriginal bi + people who live on the borderlands of Aboriginal/non-Aboriginal, cultural/colonised, dark skinned people of colour/light skinned people of colour, queer/heterosexual, and monosexual/non-monosexual, it is clear that there are a myriad of specific intersectional to explore. Under a deficit model, each of these borderland identities is an added layer of minority stress. It could be hypothesised that this myriad of compounded dichotomous identities and minority stressors faced by this population must inescapably result in even higher levels of distress and poor mental health outcomes. As this degree of intersectionality would make it almost impossible to gain the data necessary to confirm this, we can only theorise based on the few groupings that are accessible and obtainable.

Despite these layered stressors, people with multiple marginalised identities may exhibit unique resiliencies and coping strategies learned from earlier experiences of discrimination and oppression (Greene, 1995). Therefore, a strengths-based approach may illuminate some of the more enriching experiences that may come from connecting with multiple communities that stem from uniqueness of living on numerous borders. Highlighting the capabilities and capacities of people with a multiplicity of identities may pave the way towards greater intersectional solidarity in both LGBTQ + and non-LGBTIQA + communities.

Finding strength in inconceivable identities

Despite the vast negative impacts of erasure, invisibility, and exclusion experienced by bi + communities, there are many positives associated with being bi+. Having a bi + identity is accompanied by numerous freedoms including the freedom to explore diverse relationships, freedom to love regardless of gender or sex, and freedom of sexual expression; all of which are accompanied with a greater acceptance for diversity, sense of authenticity, and having unique perspectives (Rostosky et al., 2010). Further, there are some empowering factors that combat some of the negative experiences felt by bi + people. These include gaining self-acceptance, practicing self-care, pride, building personal resilience, having a network of supportive friends, engaging with affirming services, and finding more inclusive communities (Miller et al., 2022; Ross et al., 2010). Whilst exclusion is common, some communities have been found to be more inclusive of bi + identities including gaming, polyamory, goth/rave, kink, and sex positive communities where diverse sexualities and identity exploration are normalised (Miller et al., 2022). Having positive experiences relating to bi + identity not only builds resilience but can minimise proximal stressors (such as internalised biphobia, fears of rejection, and uncertainty of sexuality) which may improve mental health (Dyar & London, 2018). Promoting these empowering actions and behaviours, paired with increasing bi + visibility in broader communities would contribute to supporting the safeguarding of bi + people’s wellbeing (Miller et al., 2022; Taylor et al., 2019). Further, this may promote a greater sense of solidarity in lateral communities.

Having a multiplicity of identities can be an empowering experience. An Aboriginal queer participant in Hill et al. (2021) reflected how they enjoyed ‘being able to walk between worlds.’ (Hill et al., 2021, p. 35). Similarly, a bisexual person of colour in Ghabrial (2019) expressed how their ability to engage in ‘code-switching’ opened doors to communicate with a broader range of people and challenge the very notion of identity, and how it can be disrupted; a concept Ghabrial (2017) calls ‘positive intersectionality’.

The ability to mentor and support younger Aboriginal queer people is another positive aspect expressed by some Aboriginal queer individuals (Hill et al., 2021). This may include supporting/advocating for those who do not experience White privilege or those who are not in ‘het-facing’ relationships (Ghabrial, 2019). Similarly, others took pride from being able to change perspectives of the wider population about Aboriginal and queer issues, or even their own family’s viewpoints.

The desire to support others extends far for Aboriginal queer people, some of whom took strength from creating their own welcoming environments, ‘I personally think the best thing is that Aboriginal culture is very family and community based. So, when we find other people from the LGBTIQ + community we bring that with us and create an accepting and welcoming family of our own’ (Hill et al., 2021, p. 34). This demonstrates not only the supportive nature and kinship of this community, but the resilience and desire to break the cycle of colonial heteropatriarchal and heteronormative value systems that perpetuate the discrimination that many Aboriginal queer people continue to face.

Futures and conclusions

The broader LGBTQ + community should be a safe space for Aboriginal bi+ (and queer) people to seek belonging and support, however, there is currently a lack of intersectional and lateral solidarity. As biphobia stems from negative attitudes, misconceptions and stereotypes held by others, more education on bi + identities are needed both within and outside the LGBTQ + community. Reducing prejudices towards bi + people are likely to improve bi + peoples’ sense of belonging, improving overall inclusion and solidarity in the broader LGBTQ + community (McInnis et al., 2022).

Exclusion from monosexual communities exacerbates the need for not just greater inclusion for bi + people, but for more bi + specific spaces. With a general lack of bi + specific communities, this group have often turned to broader LGBTQ + communities for a sense of belonging (Gonzalez et al., 2021). While this may offer affirmations of their queer identity, it also opens to the door to experiencing lateral stigma from some gay and lesbian groups who hold negative attitudes towards bi + identities, ultimately minimising their sense of belonging (Gonzalez et al., 2021).

Further, there is currently a lack of support and solidarity for Aboriginal bi + people on an institutional level. Aboriginal, and queer support organisations need to embrace an intersectional approach with system-wide integrated frameworks to better cater to Aboriginal queer people to improve solidarity across these communities (Uink, Liddelow-Hunt, Daglas & Ducasse, 2020). This may include educational resources (co-designed with Indigenous queer people), greater awareness of issues faced in each respective (and intersecting) community via public initiatives (e.g. the #stillbisexual campaign), education on more inclusive language (e.g. using ‘bi+’ to include other multigendered sexualities), practice ‘affirming’ care models, as well as visual displays of support such as various pride and Aboriginal flags in community centres and spaces. These initiatives demonstrate solidarity and hold shared goals of striving to be culturally safe places for those with multiple identities such as Aboriginal queer people (Hill et al., 2021; Uink et al., 2020), particularly those who identify as bi+.

These suggestions extend to supporting and showing solidarity for the broader bi + community who would benefit from an institutional normalisation of their identities (Flanders et al., 2017). Additional programs that nurture bi + resilience in conjunction with bi + specific avenues of support may contribute to a collective sense of belonging and reduced self-stigma (also known as ‘internalised biphobia’, Meyer, 2003) in bi + communities as well as reducing depression due to bi-negativity (Lambe et al., 2017; McInnis et al., 2022). Given the diversity of both Aboriginal communities and bi + identities, person-centred care must be employed by services that consider these intersectional realities (Miller et al., 2022).

Lastly, there is a clear gap in not only Aboriginal bi + research, but broader research for Aboriginal queer identities in Australia (though some larger studies are emerging (Soldatic et al., 2021; Hill et al., 2021)). Despite some researchers specifically calling for Aboriginal queer participants, this group is underrepresented in Australian studies which subsequently limits culturally relevant findings (Miller et al. 2021). This highlights the need for more Aboriginal research protocols and culturally specific recruitment strategies in queer research. Working with Aboriginal community groups and organisations is pivotal as only utilising queer spaces for research recruitment often results in reaching queer people who are ‘out’ and involved in (what is a predominantly White) queer community (Cohen, 1997; Grant & Nash, 2020; Sanchez, 2017).

This article did have limitations; addressing experiences from additional intersectional bi + identities was beyond the scope of this paper. Limited research exists within diverse and intersecting sexual identities like pansexual, and non-binary people in bi + relationships, bi + identities and asexuality (Hayfield, 2021; Hayfield et al., 2018). The minimal existing studies on pansexual identities in Australia may suggest more severe mental health outcomes which warrants further research (Hill et al., 2021).

Thus, by dissecting existing literature that spanned Aboriginal queer research, bi + identities, Aboriginal studies and other dual queer identities, it is evident that (as the groups experience these separately) Aboriginal bi + people experience unique forms of prejudice, racism, and exclusion from multiple communities. These negative experiences are compounded by the emotionally laborious task of continuously defending their unintelligible identities to others in a monosexist world, sometimes additionally educating others on the diversity of Aboriginal identities if their Aboriginality is also interrogated. Due to the degrees of exclusion and discrimination experienced by Aboriginal bi + people due to settler monosexism, creating a sense of belonging and identity recognition (and acceptance) is pivotal for the social and mental health and wellbeing of this population. Both queer and not-queer communities need to denaturalise settler colonialism by creating informed and welcoming spaces for Aboriginal bi + people in their communities as well as demonstrating solidarity and strong allyship in acknowledging and fighting ongoing colonisation and racism. Fostering positive queer community connections have numerous positive impacts on bi + people as well as reducing the impacts of bi + specific discrimination on mental health and wellbeing (Flanders et al., 2017). Furthermore, engagement in bi + specific communities is not only empowering but may reduce some of the poor mental health outcomes experienced due to bi + specific prejudices. Therefore, in order to mitigate longstanding stigmas and lessen multicultural, racial and sexual minority stress, it is essential that both queer and Aboriginal communities actively acknowledge and make space for intersectional identities to demonstrate a greater sense of support and solidarity across multiple communities.

Disclosure statement

The authors report no conflicts of interest. The authors alone are responsible for the content and writing of the paper.

Additional information

Funding

This work was not supported by any funding agencies.

Notes on contributors

Mandy Henningham

Mandy Henningham (she/they) is an Aboriginal bi + sociologist of health, sexuality and gender at the School of Social and Political Sciences, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, the University of Sydney. She has a strong history of advocacy and research in gender and sexuality and often uses a critical or queer lens to bring forth marginalised voices. Some projects Mandy has worked on include investigating lived experiences of people with intersex variations, lived experiences of dual, marginalised identities (specifically Aboriginal and LGBTQ), young people and body image, Aboriginal people and cancer treatment in Australia, and Aboriginal people workforce retention. With a background in sexual health, mental health, public health, and education, Mandy brings a multidisciplinary lens to her work as well as their own diverse lived experiences.