I'm Bisexual and My Family Keeps Pushing Arranged Marriage. What Do I Do?

Yaar, this post has been sitting in my drafts for months because I didn't know how to start. Then I realized -- just start. The way it actually happened.

I'm Arjun. I'm a queer advocate in Mumbai. But before I was an advocate, I was a confused 22-year-old who knew he liked guys AND girls, and whose Malayali family had already started the "shaadi ka plan" conversations.

And here's the thing that makes bisexuality uniquely complicated in the Indian arranged marriage context -- there IS a version of the arranged marriage path that could theoretically work for me. I could marry a woman. I could be attracted to her. It's not a lie. But it's also not the whole truth.

If that sentence made your brain hurt a little -- welcome to my life from 2018 to 2024.

The Specific Hell of Being Bisexual in an Indian Family

Let me break down why this is different from being gay and facing marriage pressure. I'm not saying it's harder or easier -- it's just different.

When you're gay and your family pushes marriage (to a woman), the situation is clear. You cannot be attracted to women. Period. The marriage would be a complete falsehood. It's awful, but the moral clarity is there.

When you're bisexual? The lines blur.

"Toh ladki se shaadi kar lo na. Tum toh dono taraf jaa sakte ho." I've heard this -- from friends, from other queer people, from the voice inside my own head. As if being bisexual means you can just choose the "convenient" option and everyone's happy.

But marrying a woman while hiding that you're also attracted to men isn't a "convenient" choice. It's a lie of omission. Your partner deserves to know who they're marrying. And you deserve a marriage where you're fully known.

That said, I understand why bisexual people consider it. Because the alternative -- coming out and facing the music -- is terrifying. And the arranged marriage path, with its built-in structure and family approval, offers a kind of safety that coming out definitely does not.

My Story

When I was 22, fresh out of journalism school in Mumbai, my mom started sending me "biodata" messages on WhatsApp. "This girl is from a good Nair family. See her photo na?"

I was dating a guy at the time. But I'd also dated women before. I wasn't faking attraction to women -- it was real. So my first thought when the biodatas started coming was: "Maybe I can just... do this? Maybe I'll meet someone nice, marry her, and the other part of me just... stays private?"

I genuinely considered it. For months.

What stopped me? A conversation with my ex-girlfriend, of all people. She was one of the few people who knew I was bi. I told her I was thinking about going the arranged marriage route. She said, "Arjun, would you tell her? About being bi?"

"Probably not," I said.

"Then you'd be starting your marriage with a secret. And secrets in marriages are like termites. You can't see them, but they eat the foundation."

She was right. I knew she was right. But knowing and acting are two very different things.

The Four Paths I Saw

Over the next few years, as the marriage pressure intensified -- "Arjun, 25 ho gaye," then "Arjun, 27 ho gaye," then "Arjun, what are you waiting for" -- I kept circling through four possible paths:

Path 1: Marry a woman, stay closeted. Pros: family happy, social expectations met, genuine attraction possible. Cons: lifelong secret, potential infidelity, unfair to partner, crushing inauthenticity.

Path 2: Come out as bisexual, then pursue arranged marriage with a woman who knows. Pros: honest, authentic, possible supportive partner. Cons: coming out to family is terrifying, finding a woman who's okay with a bisexual husband through the arranged marriage system is... optimistic.

Path 3: Come out and date whoever I want on my own terms. Pros: full authenticity, freedom. Cons: family devastation, social consequences, potential rejection by both straight and queer communities.

Path 4: Keep delaying marriage indefinitely. Pros: no decision required. Cons: pressure keeps building, family frustration grows, life is on hold.

I chose Path 4 for a long time. Delay, deflect, dodge. "Career pe focus kar raha hoon, Amma." It worked until it didn't.

When Path 4 Stopped Working

At 27, my mom called me crying. Not her "I'm making a point" crying -- genuine tears. She said: "Beta, I'm scared you'll be alone. Your father isn't well. We want to see you settled. Please, just meet some girls."

Yaar, what do you say to that? Your mother is crying. Your father has health issues. They're not being unreasonable by Indian standards. They love you and they're scared.

I agreed to meet three girls. I figured I'd go through the motions, say I didn't feel a connection, and buy more time.

Girl 1: Wonderful person. Smart, kind, working as a data analyst in Pune. We had a nice conversation. I felt guilty the entire time because she was being so genuine and I was performing.

Girl 2: Didn't show up. Her family cancelled last minute. (This happens in the arranged marriage process more than people admit.)

Girl 3: And this is where it got complicated. She was a literature teacher. We talked about books for two hours. I genuinely liked her. Like, genuinely. The bisexual brain does not make things simple.

After meeting her, I went home and had a full-blown crisis. Because I COULD marry her. I was attracted to her. We connected. My family would be thrilled. Everything would be "normal."

But the guy I was casually seeing at the time had left a hoodie at my apartment. And looking at that hoodie while my mom texted me "so how was it???" about girl 3, I realized I was standing at a crossroads that would define my entire life.

What I Actually Did

I chose honesty. Not all at once -- I'm not a hero. Incrementally.

First, I came out to my sister. She cried, hugged me, and said "I suspected." (Why does everyone suspect?!)

Then I came out to my two closest friends. Both supportive. One said, "Bro, we've been waiting for you to tell us." Apparently, I was the worst-kept secret in my friend group.

Then, after months of therapy and preparation, I came out to my parents. I told them I was gay, actually, because -- and this is a confession I need to make here -- I felt like "bisexual" would give them hope that I'd marry a woman anyway. "Gay" was cleaner. Harder, but cleaner.

Was that the right call? I'm still not sure. Some bisexual advocates would say I erased my own identity. And they have a point. But in the pressure cooker of an Indian family expecting a wedding, I made a survival decision.

I did eventually tell my parents I'm bisexual, about six months after the initial coming out. My mom said, "Toh phir ladki se shaadi kyun nahi kar lete?" which is EXACTLY what I was afraid of. That conversation took another three months to fully have.

Where I Am Now

I'm 30. I'm not married. My parents have mostly stopped pushing (mostly). My mom still sends me articles about "bisexual people in happy marriages" which is her way of keeping the door open without directly saying it. I find it equal parts annoying and touching.

I'm dating -- men and women -- on my own terms. Nobody I'm seeing right now is going to become an arranged marriage story. But I'm okay with that. For the first time in my life, my romantic life is real. Not performed, not hidden, not strategic. Just real.

Advice If You're In This Situation

1. Bisexuality is not a loophole. The ability to be attracted to women does not mean you should use it to avoid difficult conversations. A marriage built on a hidden identity is a marriage built on sand.

2. Coming out as bisexual is harder than coming out as gay, in some ways. You face the "just choose" pressure from both sides -- straight people think you should pick a woman, some gay people think you're "halfway out." Neither is fair. Your identity is valid exactly as it is.

3. If you DO want to pursue arranged marriage honestly, there are women out there who would be okay with a bisexual partner. They exist. But you need to be upfront. Not on the first meeting, necessarily, but before any serious commitment. She deserves the truth and you deserve a partner who knows the real you.

4. Therapy is non-negotiable. I'm not being dramatic. The intersection of bisexuality, family pressure, and cultural expectations is genuinely complex. A queer-affirmative therapist can help you navigate this without losing your mind. iCall (9152987821) can help you find one.

5. The pressure feels permanent but it isn't. It peaked for me around 25-28 and then gradually eased. Especially after I came out. Your family's adjustment period will be difficult, but it does end.

What Others Say

"I'm bi and I married a woman without telling her. It's been 5 years and the secret is eating me alive." -- I hear this more often than I'd like. If this is you, please consider couples therapy. The secret will come out eventually -- it always does. Better that it comes out in a controlled, therapeutic setting than in a crisis.

"My queer friends say I'm not 'really' queer because I could pass as straight." -- Bisexual erasure from within the community is real and it hurts. You are queer. Full stop. Your identity isn't diminished by who you date.

"I told my parents I'm bisexual and they said 'it's a phase.'" -- Aur kya bolenge. It's not a phase. But arguing that in the heat of the moment won't help. Give them time and resources. PFLAG has good material for Indian parents (search "parents of LGBTQ India").

"I've decided to marry a woman and just not tell her." -- Please reconsider. Please. For her sake and yours. Deception is not a foundation for partnership.

Edit: A Couple More Thoughts

This post is already long but I want to add two things.

First -- if you're a bisexual person in India looking for community and connection without the pressure to label or perform, check out apps like Stick. Having a space where your identity is understood and not questioned makes a real difference. Even if you're just looking for friends who get it.

Second -- to any family member reading this because your son/daughter/sibling told you they're bisexual: please don't say "toh choose kar lo." Bisexuality isn't a buffet where you pick one and ignore the other. It's an identity. Your child isn't confused. They're being honest with you, which takes more courage than you can imagine.

Main aaj bhi figure out kar raha hoon. Roz kuch naya samajh aata hai. But the one thing I know for sure: living honestly -- even when it's messy, even when it's hard -- is better than the alternative. Always.

-- Arjun

Arjun Nair is an LGBTQ+ community advocate and writer based in Mumbai. He writes about queer life, identity, and relationships in the Indian context.