Jessie Lwethwaite asks what “heteroflexible” really means, and examines how it sits within queer dating culture.
As a butch woman, I am no stranger to being “straight bait”. I couldn’t even tell you how many times I have been at a party, at a bar, or even at a cheeky after-work function where, around drink four, her straightness gets a few corners. You all know what I’m talking about: the type that has a boyfriend or husband, but don’t worry, because he doesn’t consider anything she does with girls cheating… cause girls don’t count… right?
And as arousing as being told I don’t count is, it is basic knowledge for us older lesbians to just not mess with these girls. This is something we also advise to the baby gays among us. These girls are like a blue-ringed octopus: they may look really pretty, but touching is going to be very painful.
But there is a word that I have been hearing more and more lately that has me examining this basic tenet of lesbianism. Heteroflexible. By no means a new word, I’m sure many have heard it for years now, but it definitely seems to be having a resurgence. So what is it actually, and are women who are heteroflexible part of the community or a cautionary tale we tell to the gaybies?
Many of the women who fall under this label might well be genuinely attracted to women, but are sure they could never fall in love with us. To be fair, sexuality is weird and wonderful, and not everyone’s wiring is the same. Some people genuinely experience sexual attraction and romantic attraction like they’re on different group chats. They can happily hook up with women but only ever picture a shared power bill and a joint Kmart air fryer with men. That’s a real experience, and it deserves a name that isn’t “just a phase I had in uni”.
However, in my experience, quite a few are not attracted to women; they are attracted to men who are attracted to the idea of a woman who is bisexual. These are the “he just likes to watch” girls.
Now, obviously, if you are down to be a side-quest, that is 100% up to you, I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not your mother. And this doesn’t mean anyone needs to be ashamed of only feeling romantic attraction to men.
The heart wants what it wants, and sometimes it wants beard oil and a mortgage. But if your body is happy to RSVP “yes” to women while your heart is staying home in sweatpants, the kind thing is to say that out loud.
“Hey, this is physical for me, I don’t see myself in a relationship with a woman,” is not unsexy. It’s actually wildly hot to know where we stand before we start writing our joint Bunnings card into the script. You know what is sexy? Communication, consent, and setting expectations. Hot.
Being heteroflexible as opposed to bi or pansexual is also way less challenging a label. It’s queerness with plausible deniability. Queerness that still somehow centres straightness and doesn’t require a call to Grandma or a gender reveal party for each subsequent new partner.
So to the “I’d sleep with women but never fall in love with one” crowd: you’re allowed to be exactly who you are. Keep your label, change it later, throw the whole thing in the wash and see what comes out, it’s fine. And if you do one day find yourself accidentally in love with a woman you were “never” going to fall for, don’t panic, just pick up the phone and explain pansexuality to Grandma. Good luck!
