Feminist circles often aim to be welcoming, politically aware and attentive to power. Yet bisexual people can still find themselves explaining their identity, defending their relationships or quietly absorbing assumptions that they are confused, greedy or “just passing through”. A space may use inclusive language and still reproduce biphobia through jokes, dating commentary, event design or unexamined ideas about what queerness looks like.
Bisexuality includes attraction to more than one gender, but it does not prescribe equal attraction, simultaneous relationships or a particular dating history. Some people use bi, pan, queer or another label; some move between labels as their understanding develops. Respect begins with allowing people to name themselves without turning their identity into a debate.
For Australians, the context can shift sharply between a queer-friendly inner-city venue and a small regional town. Sydney’s Mardi Gras visibility, Melbourne’s strong community networks and queer events in places such as Naarm, Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth can create connection, while rural and remote bisexual people may have fewer confidential services or supportive peers nearby. A genuinely safer feminist space has to account for that uneven landscape.
This work is also personal. A bisexual friend may be navigating anxiety, family pressure, sexual-assault recovery, religious expectations or shame that has been reinforced by both straight and queer communities. Making room for their full experience is part of feminist solidarity, not a special favour or an optional diversity exercise.
Biphobia is not limited to openly hostile remarks. It can appear as disbelief, suspicion and the assumption that a person’s current partner reveals their “real” sexuality. A bisexual woman dating a man may be treated as straight, while a bisexual person dating a woman may be treated as newly or permanently lesbian. Both readings erase the identity they have stated.
Monosexism is the broader belief that people are naturally attracted to only one gender. It shows up when someone is asked to “pick a side”, when bisexuality is described as a phase, or when a person’s attractions are ranked according to their relationship history. Comments such as “you have the best of both worlds” can sound complimentary while reducing a complex identity to sexual availability.
Feminist groups should also examine how bisexual people are portrayed in conversations about betrayal, consent and relationships. A bisexual person is not inherently more likely to cheat, avoid commitment or seek threesomes. Treating those stereotypes as humour creates a room where people may stop disclosing important parts of themselves.
Use the name, pronouns and identity terms a person gives you. If someone says they are bisexual, there is no need to investigate when they first knew, how many genders they have dated or whether their attraction is “really” equal. Curiosity can become an interrogation when the person is repeatedly expected to provide evidence.
Avoid making a friend responsible for educating the whole group. They may choose to talk about bisexuality, but they should not be positioned as the automatic spokesperson whenever a discussion turns to queer rights. Share the work by reading reputable resources, listening to bisexual writers and learning about bi-specific issues without demanding a personal disclosure.
Language matters in ordinary social moments. Say “partners” rather than assuming a boyfriend or girlfriend, and do not refer to someone’s opposite-gender relationship as proof that they are straight. If you make a mistake, a brief correction is enough: “You’re right, I made an assumption. I’ll use bisexual from here.” A long performance of guilt can make the affected person comfort you.
A safer group makes its boundaries visible before conflict occurs. Event descriptions can state that biphobia, lesbophobia, transphobia, racism, ableism and sexual harassment are not acceptable. Organisers should provide a clear way to report concerns, explain who will respond and avoid promising absolute confidentiality if a serious safety issue is disclosed.
Social activities deserve the same care as formal meetings. Do not assume everyone wants to discuss dating, flirt with strangers or disclose their sexuality over drinks. In Australian queer nightlife, whether that is a Sydney venue during Mardi Gras season or a community fundraiser in a suburban hall, alcohol can blur boundaries and make it harder for someone to leave. Offer non-alcoholic options, accessible transport information and a quiet area where possible.
Consent also applies to stories and images. Ask before sharing a friend’s bisexuality with relatives, colleagues or online followers, even if they are open within the group. Do not tag people in photos from a Pride event without checking. Being visible at a public celebration does not mean someone is out in every part of their life.
Bisexual people are not a single demographic. Bi women, men, non-binary people and trans people can face different stereotypes, and experiences are shaped by race, disability, class, age, religion and migration history. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQIA+ people may also navigate cultural responsibilities and community contexts that cannot be reduced to a generic Pride message.
Practical inclusion means considering who can attend and who feels able to speak. A group based in inner Melbourne may have transport, venue and service options that are not available to someone in regional New South Wales or a remote Queensland community. Online meetings can help, but only when they account for privacy, data costs, time zones and the risk of being overheard at home.
Support should never be measured by how publicly someone performs queerness. A person who does not attend Mardi Gras, use dating apps or share personal details online is no less bisexual. Feminist spaces can make this visible by valuing quiet participation, offering anonymous feedback and including bisexuality in discussions beyond celebration months.
For someone rebuilding trust with their own identity, private rituals can be meaningful. Reflecting on a coffee date alone may sound simple, but time spent without judgement can help a person hear their own needs rather than the assumptions around them.
When a bisexual friend describes erasure or a hurtful comment, believe the impact before debating the speaker’s intention. “They probably didn’t mean it that way” protects the comfort of the person who caused harm. A better response is, “I can see why that felt invalidating. What would make this space safer now?”
Intervene in the moment when it is appropriate and safe. A calm correction can be enough: “Bisexuality is not a sign that someone cannot commit.” If the comment is part of a pattern, speak with the organiser and record what happened. Do not pressure the affected person to confront someone directly, especially where there is a power imbalance or a history of harassment.
After an incident, follow up privately without demanding a detailed account. Offer practical choices: leaving together, changing groups, making a report or simply being listened to. Support can also include pointing someone towards bisexual-led resources, QLife on 1800 184 527, or local LGBTQIA+ health services. If trauma is involved, do not position friendship as a substitute for professional care.
Creative expression can help people find language for experiences that have been difficult to explain. Music, journalling and conversations about naming trauma through music may open reflection, but always let the person decide whether they want to go there. No one owes the group a disclosure in exchange for support.
Safety is built through repeated choices rather than a single policy statement. Groups can review their meeting language, challenge casual stereotypes and notice who is always asked to explain themselves. The goal is not perfect wording; it is a culture where people can raise concerns without being dismissed.
Useful actions include:
These practices are especially important in activist spaces, where people may assume shared politics guarantee personal safety. A feminist collective can campaign effectively for reproductive justice or sexual consent while still mishandling bisexual members’ experiences. Accountability has to include the internal culture of the group, not just its public causes.
Being an ally to bisexual friends does not require mastering every term or anticipating every possible mistake. It requires paying attention, accepting correction and refusing the idea that bisexual people need to prove their legitimacy. It also means understanding that trust may develop slowly, particularly for someone who has been rejected by family, partners, workplaces or queer communities.
In Australia, meaningful support might look like making a regional online group safer, checking that a local event includes bi voices, or ensuring a friend can access a confidential service without being outed. It might be as ordinary as correcting a mate at the pub, asking before posting a Pride photo, or leaving room for someone to participate without telling their whole story.
Start with one concrete change this week: review the guidelines for your next feminist gathering and add an explicit statement that bisexual identities are valid, self-defined and free from stereotypes.