Photography by Damian Brandon

What do you get when you mix a wedding, a bisexual feminist and a straight man? Well, on the fifteenth of August this year, I found out. 

Yes, as I sit writing this article, my new gold band signalling me as a newlywed is clacking joyfully alongside my disco-ball-inspired acrylics on the keyboard. I'm married. To a man. And as a bisexual woman, this feels like a complicated thing to be. 

Look, I've had my fair share of hateful comments about who I've found love with, from people telling me I have no business writing about LGBTQIA+ experiences to some calling me a faker and a phoney. Frankly, I'm old enough and ugly enough to roll my eyes at the biphobia. But sometimes a pip gets stuck in my pith, growing roots and strangling my pride, before turning it into imposter syndrome and doubt: 'Am I actually just gay?', 'Am I actually just straight?' Until the inevitable truth slaps me in the face: 'Actually, I am bisexual. Duh.’

Being a queer woman in a hetero-presenting relationship for the past nine or so years has left me feeling as though my sexuality has been mostly erased from my day-to-day.

Being a queer woman in a hetero-presenting relationship for the past nine or so years, combined with the cyclical nature of these thoughts, has left me feeling as though my sexuality has been mostly erased from my day-to-day. Not because it isn't acknowledged or supported by my partner, but because bisexuality is seldom visible. And when it is, like when I bring my straight-ally love to Pride, I'm always riddled with nerves, anticipating some sort of backlash or scorn. 

When it came to our wedding day, I was not prepared to shy away from this part of myself and become lost in what is often a celebration of heteronormative tradition. But neither was I going to deny myself the rituals of joy that are synonymous with a wedding. After all, what's campier than a poofy dress, an outfit change and diva-ish behaviour?

That's why when we began the wedding planning process, I knew that I wanted to celebrate the very essence of queerness. That is, a sense of safety and community, a silliness that evokes joy and lots of moments that encourage participation and sharing. 

Nevertheless, I knew that bringing together swathes of my queer community with our straight family and friends would need a careful approach. One that prioritised the safety and comfort of our LGBTQIA+ guests above any obligation. 

FOR MORE BISEXUAL WEDDING INSPO BECOME A PAID SUBSCRIBER