You Say You Want Bi+ Community But You’re a Bad Villager

Bailey reflects on the negative impact of me-centric thinking and how we move forward.

I don’t think I’m burnt out.

Okay, that’s probably a lie. Well, sorta. Burnout implies depletion, but what I’m feeling is a lot hotter than that. I’m pissed. I’m burdened with a particular sort of exhaustion that comes from offering yourself to a community that says it wants connection, wants space, wants each other…and then doesn’t show up.

This year, I’ve hosted a range of events. Some of them have been great, like coffee meetups that turn into afternoon ramen or bi+ nights at bars where you watch people fall in love. And then there have been other events where ten people say they’re going to come but five actually do. Events where a restaurant prepares a lovely evening for our group with branded menus and free drinks, but then we show up in half force and I look like a flake.

And while I’m still angry, I want to remind myself that the world didn’t end because of these events being less than ideal (and with the world as it is right now, I don’t think anyone would point the finger at me because I had no control over an attendee weirding everyone else out).

But if you’re the person who hosts, the parentified child, the organizer, you know what I’m talking about. It’s a specific sort of embarrassment you feel when you ask your people to take you seriously, and then your people just don’t follow through.

After a while, you start asking yourself: Do people actually want community, or do they just like the idea of it?

Because those two things are not the same.