I’ve gotten questions like this from both lesbians and bisexuals before, and my response is always the same: it’s absolutely alright for you to envision your future girlfriend/wife having the same sexual orientation as you, because you’re more likely to have important experiences in common as a result. There is nothing wrong with that, or with prioritizing bi girls if you’re bisexual or lesbians if you’re a lesbian. However, if you 1) deliberately go out of your way to avoid dating girls who don’t share your specific sexuality, or 2) even go as far as rejecting someone who’d be immensely compatible with you simply because they don’t share your specific sexuality, then I think you’d be practicing a vitriolic and unhealthy form of sexual separatism that does more harm than good in the long run.
Firstly, our dating options as wlw are pretty limited. There aren’t many out wlw near us to begin with. Many wlw, especially those that live in overtly homophobic localities, are geographically isolated from each other. That’s why dating apps are so popular with wlw - because it’s more accessible and convenient to find women to date through social media apps and websites. So in that vein, it makes no sense logistically and emotionally to restrict an already constrained dating pool.
Secondly, a lot of this can quickly devolve into lateral biphobia or lesbophobia. It’s one thing to want to find someone who has similar experiences and understands where you’re coming from, or to prioritize your own. As a Bengali bisexual woman, the people who understand me most in this world are going to be other Bengali bisexual women, because they share my race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality. So it makes sense that I gravitate toward them. However, I’m not going to limit myself just to them, or reject a potential woman of color just because she isn’t bisexual or Bengali. I’ve been attracted to plenty of non-Bengali people and girls who aren’t bisexual before. And I’m not going to automatically discount them if they don’t share my race, ethnicity, or sexuality.
Of course, I don’t go for white people or straight men. But that’s an issue of survival. See, white people and straight men are actually dangerous for women of color. So if a bisexual woc or lesbian woc refuses to date white people, it’s understandable, since white people oppress them. But unlike straight people/white people, lesbians don’t oppress us, and we don’t oppress lesbians. Some bi women can be lesbophobic, and some lesbians can be biphobic. But bi women and lesbians cannot oppress each other.
In that same vein, I get that dating a girl who shares your specific sexuality may mean that she understands your experiences. But that isn’t always the case. I’ve met bi women who’ve never experienced anything I have, and I’ve met lesbians who’ve shared numerous experiences that I’ve gone through as well. This idea that lesbians and bisexual women have discrete, inherently separable experiences is false, and it’s rooted in identity politics. At the end of the day, our sexualities are perceived as threats to the patriarchal order. We are thus marginalized, abused, and brutalized by men and straight people for being women who love women. Some of our issues are going to manifest differently, and we’re not going to conceptualize our erotic, gender, or sexual self-concepts in the exact same ways. But there are many things we share in common as well. Not to mention that there is no universal “bisexual” or “lesbian” experience. For example, I share far more in common with lesbians of color (and even straight women of color) than I do with white bi women! The racial factor is crucial to experiencing sexuality and womanhood, so a lesbian of color will always empathize with and relate to my material reality far more than a white bisexual woman will.
And I’m not preaching the idea that we should all unite under the homogenous “wlw” banner at all times and during all moments. I’m not saying that every experience we have will affect us universally. There are things I go through as a bisexual woman that lesbians may not, and there are things lesbians go through that bisexual women may not. We approach gender/womanhood and sexuality differently. There are critical moments when we have to discuss specific experiences that don’t overlap or traverse sexual lines. Shoving us into a homogenous category is absolutely detrimental to solidarity and to community building. But so is practicing defensiveness and separatism.
Being cynical around each other is the last thing we should be doing. It’s not even that we’re just “feminist sisters” or “allies”. We’re women who love women. We’ve been united and stayed together since the very beginning of the LGBT rights movement, and perhaps even before that. Bisexual women and lesbians have been comrades, sisters, and best friends, but more than that, they’ve also been wives and lovers to each other. On this very day, there are bisexual women and lesbians who are becoming girlfriends, wives, or lifelong partners. We’re not enemies or competitors. We’re oppressed along the same axis and by the same institutional and systemic mechanisms. We have so much common ground between us, and so much potential for crafting lasting change and cultivating healing, genuine communal bonds. Let’s focus on that while celebrating the specifics and nuances of our diverse experiences, rather than on bitter and vitriolic differences. You can of course do what you want and I cannot stop you, but I urge you to reflect on this and to change your mindset.