Tamora Cross

Tamora (or more commonly, just Tami) is a 23-year-old girlchild who firmly believes in coffee, cats, and more cats. She lives with three charmingly handsome men of the feline variety, and has somehow acquired a dog who thinks he is a cat. Frequently found in a different pair of coloured contact lenses to the previous day, a baggy jumper and probably something with Hello Kitty on it, she likes changing her hair, sewing, DDR, drinking red wine and singing in Japanese or French. Not all at the same time though. Obviously.

"Share and share alike": Why multiple partners aren’t just a bi thing


“Polyamory, open relationships and cheating are tricky for bisexuals to talk about…”

In my experience in a heteronormative world, it’s much easier for me as a woman to find a boyfriend than it is to find a girlfriend. If I click with one of every 10 men who like me, and one of every 10 women who like me, chances are I will meet those ten men before I meet the ten women. Perhaps if I was a little more active in the LGBTQI community and less shy; but I’m not. Men come to me, as that’s how they’re taught to be. And they are always more interested when they find out I like women too.

I’m sure there are women out there who enjoy the male attention they get for being with other women. I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with that in and of itself, as long as… Continue reading

"Bi any other name": The art of labelling


Picture © Charlotte Dingle

I am a straight lesbian. Had I heard this term before I adopted it? No. But it seems I’m not the first person to have thought of it. A quick Google search took me to UrbanDictionary.com, where the second definition is listed as “A word used for a girl who is bisexual but doesn’t feel comfortable being called ‘Bi’”* Which is exactly how I use it. I like men, and I like women; but for some reason I don’t particularly like the terms “bi” and “bisexual”.

UrbanDictionary.com tells me a lot of things. We all know the official definition for “bisexual”, but what real people think is apparently a different matter. The first definition is “The ability to reach down someone’s pants and be satisfied with whatever you find.”** I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s not the kind of thing I want to associate… Continue reading