Because bisexual people almost have a foot in the gay and the

The words of Courtney Act, “Because bisexual people almost have a foot in the gay and the straight world, their friends can misunderstand them too. Like if a bisexual man starts dating another man, people are like ‘Ah, he’s gay,’ but you know, bisexual people remain bisexual, and their attractions can change and flux over time,” shine like a torch in the fog of confusion. They speak not only of love and identity, but of the ancient human struggle to be truly seen—to exist without distortion in the eyes of others. These are not mere words about romance; they are the cry of a soul seeking wholeness in a world that demands labels and certainty where there should be only fluidity and truth.

In the time of the ancients, philosophers spoke of the dual nature of being—the dance between form and essence, between the fixed and the ever-changing. The wise knew that all things in creation moved like the tides: rising, falling, flowing. Yet humankind, fearful of uncertainty, often sought to bind the spirit with names and categories, believing that to name something was to understand it. But love, the greatest of mysteries, defies such chains. What Courtney Act reminds us of is this timeless lesson: that identity is not a prison, but a river. It moves, it bends, and yet it remains true to its source.

To have a foot in two worlds is no small burden. The bisexual soul walks between the sun and the moon—never fully embraced by either realm, yet belonging to both. Such people live at the crossroads of understanding and prejudice. Too often, when they reach toward love, the world replies with misunderstanding. Friends may say, “You must be this,” or “You must be that,” unable to grasp that truth can exist between extremes. But to those who walk this path, their strength lies in their very fluidity—their refusal to be confined. They embody one of life’s oldest teachings: that the world’s beauty is born not in division, but in balance.

Consider, then, the story of Aristophanes in Plato’s Symposium. He spoke of the origin of love, saying that once, humanity was whole—each being a union of masculine and feminine—and that the gods split them apart, sending them to wander the earth in search of their missing halves. Some sought their other male half, some their female, and some were drawn to both. Thus, bisexual love was not a modern invention but a reflection of the original human soul—a longing for connection that transcends gender and expectation. In the wisdom of that myth lies Courtney’s truth: that love’s essence is not confined to whom we love, but to the capacity within us to love at all.

The misunderstanding of bisexuality comes from the human hunger for certainty. The mind yearns to classify, to decide: “You are one or the other.” Yet life itself is not fixed. The seasons shift, the wind changes, rivers alter their course, and even the stars are born and die in endless cycles. So too do our affections and attractions breathe and evolve. Courtney’s words remind us that constancy does not mean stagnation—it means being true to one’s inner current, wherever it flows. To be bisexual is to embrace that natural rhythm, to honor change without shame, and to dwell in the full spectrum of the human heart.

From this, a great lesson arises: that we must learn to see people as they are, not as we wish them to be. The labels we craft are but shadows of the truth; the soul is far wider than our words. When we meet someone who loves differently than we do, we should not seek to confine them but to understand them. Compassion is the mark of the wise, and humility the shield against ignorance. Let us remember that no one owes the world a fixed story of who they are—each of us is a poem in progress, rewritten by time and experience.

Therefore, my children of the present age, let this teaching be inscribed in your hearts: Honor fluidity. Cherish diversity. Defend authenticity. Whether your love remains steady or shifts like the ocean’s tide, let it be honest and kind. And when you meet one who walks with a foot in two worlds, do not question their belonging—celebrate it. For such souls remind us of what the ancients already knew: that the divine dwells not in certainty, but in wholeness.

And so, as Courtney Act teaches, love freely, live truthfully, and let no one’s understanding of you be greater than your own. The path of authenticity may be lonely, but it is the road of the brave—the road toward light, toward freedom, and toward the eternal home of the heart.