Greedy: Notes from a Bisexual Who Wants Too Much

by Jen Winston

Overview

Lambda Award Finalist: “[A]cackle-loudly-and-send-quotes-to-your-friends chronicle of bisexuality [and] a story of awkwardness and identity crisis.” —Glamour

Named One of the Best Books of 2021 by Oprah Daily, Glamour, Shondaland, and BuzzFeed

If Jen Winston knows one thing for sure, it’s that she’s bisexual. Or wait—maybe she isn’t? Actually, she definitely is. Unless . . . she’s not?

Jen’s provocative, laugh-out-loud debut takes us inside her journey of self-discovery, through stories of a childhood “girl crush,” an onerous quest to have a threesome, and an enduring fear of being bad at sex. Greedy follows Jen’s attempts to make sense of herself as she explores the role of the male gaze, what it means to be “queer enough,” and how to overcome bi stereotypes when you’re the poster child for all of them: greedy, slutty, and constantly confused.

With her clever voice, clear-eyed insight, and whip-smart humor, Jen draws on personal experiences with sexism and biphobia to understand how we all can and must do better. She sheds light on the reasons women, queer people, and other marginalized groups tend to make ourselves smaller, provoking the question: What would happen if we suddenly stopped???

Greedy shows us that being bisexual is about much more than who you’re sleeping with—it’s about finding stability in a state of flux and defining yourself on your own terms. It inspires us to rethink the world as we know it, reminding us that “greedy” was a superpower all along.

“Wholly original, and entirely delightful.” —Publishers Weekly

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781982179182
Publisher:	Simon & Schuster
Publication date:	02/13/2024
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	326
Sales rank:	749,508
File size:	3 MB

About the Author

Jen Winston (she/they) is a writer, creative director, and bisexual based in Brooklyn. Their work bridges the intersection of sex, politics, and technology, and has been featured in The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, CNN, and more. Jen is passionate about unlearning and creating work that helps others do the same. Her newsletter, The Bi Monthly, is dedicated to exploring bi issues and experiences—it comes out every month, much like Jen herself. Follow Jen on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok (please, she’s begging you): @Jenerous. 

Table of Contents

A Story to Ease the Author's Impostor Syndrome xv

What I Talk about When I Talk about Bisexuality xxiii

Part I I Want a Word for This 1

Cuffed Jeans and Feeling Seen 3

Hot and Cool 17

Girl Crush: Clinical Observations 31

True Life: I Masturbate Wrong 39

Dating and Walking 53

A Girl Called Rhonda 75

Part II I Want You to Like Me (Even Though I Don't Like You) 91

Crush on a Couple 93

The Men Who Ghost Me 103

The Power Dynamic 109

The Neon Sweater 121

Knots 145

Part III I Want to be Queer Enough 159

Out of the Woods 161

Bisexuality in Men: A Retrospective 175

Do I Make Myself Queer? 187

Bad at Sex 205

Boundaries: A Fairy Tale 215

A Few Words on Platonic Love 225

Part IV I Want Too Much and Then Some 235

A Queer Love Story 237

Brinley James Ford 247

Gender Is a Drag: A Timeline 269

Acknowledgments 289

References 293

Editorial Reviews

07/26/2021

In this sparkling debut, Winston dives headlong into a life of confusion and second-guessing her queer desire, only to realize that “maybe confusion is as queer as it gets.” As someone who grew up in the cornfields of Indiana in the early aughts, she struggled to find “sexually fluid role models” to help her understand her bisexuality. In a series of essays, Winston viscerally describes the sense of being unmoored without language to describe herself and the difficult path to finding it, all with a breezy irreverence that will enamor her to fans of millennial essayists like Samantha Irby and Jia Tolentino. One of her greatest strengths is in pivoting from acerbic wit to earnest reflection, as she does in a standout essay about the social construction of ugliness and masturbating on AIM—aptly titled “True Life: I Masturbate Wrong”—and in another about the importance of setting boundaries. Winston’s regular use of content warnings and Twitter handles may put off some readers, but those whose lives have been similarly shaped by social media will appreciate the roles these signifiers play in this story of searching for love by a writer to watch. In playfully queering the coming-of-age story, Winston has written something wholly original, and entirely delightful. Agent: Wendy Sherman, Wendy Sherman Assoc. (Oct.)

Publishers Weekly

Jen Winston has been unlearning and learning anew and sharing that experience for over a decade. Her vulnerability contrasted with her self-containment provides an accessible, prescient education that is simultaneously not indulgent and delightfully pleasurable. Jen’s work makes me feel safe, seen, proudly queer, and proudly woman, encompassing all the facets.

Ilana Glazer

I found Jen Winston’s forthcoming memoir so resonant that I eventually had to stop underlining it because the book was looking ridiculous. She weaves research and humor seamlessly, contextualizing relatable experiences like bi imposter syndrome, wondering if you simply want to ‘be’ your same-sex crushes, and the external/internalized gatekeeping from the larger queer community. This book is an entertaining-yet-information-packed crash course in what bisexuality can really mean.

BuzzFeed

In this cackle-loudly-and-send-quotes-to-your-friends chronicle of bisexuality, Winston takes us from banana blow job practice to a confusing adulthood of wondering if she is entitled to the Chromatica Oreos. It’s a memoir but also a rich snapshot of one part of queer culture, a story of awkwardness and identity crisis that Winston hopes will “become obsolete.” The wonder will stay, she promises, but the wondering where you belong will become a thing of the past.

Glamour

Provocative and profound, funny and frank.

OprahDaily.com

In Greedy, Winston hilariously, entertainingly, and honestly approaches her journey to asserting her sexuality. But this isn’t just any memoir; it’s also an educational examination that delves into identity, cultural misunderstandings of bisexuality and the microaggressions that come along with that, why coming out bi has specific challenges, and more.

Shondaland

Reading Greedy is like hanging out with your coolest friend—the one who knows where to find the best party in Amsterdam and the most important protest in New York; the one with the wildest stories, the perfect reading suggestions, and hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers. As affecting as it is thought-provoking, Jen Winston’s debut is part memoir, part call to action, and all heart.

Diana Spechler

2021-09-15
Winston looks to her own life and love experiences and finds "bi erasure," invisibility, and biphobia.

When the author came out as bisexual, she thought "no one would care." She soon discovered that lesbians "tend to carry their bias quietly, losing interest especially fast" on dating apps, and that others assume bisexuality is a "gateway identity.” However, for Winston, her bi identity is vital, "a lens through which to reimagine our world." She recounts her dating life with plenty of self-deprecating humor and many knowing references to both pop culture and queer theory. Her lack of shame around kinky sex is refreshing, as in her account of learning shibari, the Japanese art of bondage, and content warnings at the start of two chapters flag instances of substance abuse, sexual assault, and police brutality. Winston dissects a "girl crush" in clinical terminology, determining if it's malignant or benign, and she describes how gay dance clubs offer her "worship, safety and refuge," as churches do for others. She questions if she's attracted to women because of the male gaze or in spite of it: Do her sexual impulses stem from "lust, objectification, a sense of sisterhood, or all three"? At 30 years old, writes the author, "I needed to label my sexuality—if I didn't explicitly name my queerness, it seemed too slippery." Queer love stories are the best, she decides, because queer people are "forced to self-determine." Near the end of the book, she describes finding true love in the form of a "queer, trans/nonbinary person who takes a low dose of testosterone." Queer sex is "worth the hype," she writes. Winston considers gender to be confining—“It feels like quarantine”—and above all, her story is about love that is "rooted in radical, asymmetrical truth."

A well-reasoned and entertaining affirmation of gender fluidity.

Kirkus Reviews