Note: The majority of this was written in March 2012, and is essentially a recounting of my falling in love with women. I am currently and very happily in a relationship with a man I am deeply in love with and am proud to call my Daddy. :)
I was raised a very sheltered, conservative Christian, and was taught my whole life that not only was homosexuality a sin, but that gay relationships involved zero love, only selfish lust. I blindly believed what my parents shoved into my head until one day I saw a thread on a message board asking…
“How could it be wrong to love another person?”
That stopped me in my tracks and I asked myself that question over and over. As I learned more, it was obvious that my parents had been lying to me. The strength and courage it takes for gay couples to step out together into such a hateful world could only be inspired by love.
I had an inkling that I was bi in 2007. I stuffed it down because regardless of my new-found realization that gay love existed, I couldn’t deal with the guilt of even considering I might be bi-sexual. I tried to convince myself that the reason I was looking at girls everywhere I went was to compare my body against theirs – and when I was younger, that was true – but eventually I couldn’t deny that doing a full body scan and being unable to stop staring was simply not a normal thing for a sweet straight Christian virgin girl to do. ;)
I looked in the mirror one day and said it out loud. “I’m bi-sexual.” It felt alright. It felt powerful. Still scary though…the knowledge that if I accepted it, I would never feel free to live my life the way I wanted. I would always be hiding that part of myself.
I worried about my Mom finding out. She had dealt with so many things that my brother had done, going against everything we were taught, but this I knew she could not take. If she ever found out…I don’t think she would be angry…I think her heart would break. I knew she would never get over it. So I kept trying to imagine it away, thinking maybe it was just a “phase that people outgrew”, to quote Valerie’s letter in V For Vendetta.
A year later, I met someone online – one of those paranoid people who wouldn’t let out a stitch of personal information, including age, location, and gender… I didn’t mind because we would talk about everything else for hours at a time. It only took a day before I was flirting, and I assumed that because I felt an urge to flirt with this person, they must be male. It continued on for a week or two and I started feeling very attached. We stayed up until dawn chatting, so many nights. There was no doubt in my mind that a connection like that would only happen with a guy.
I was wrong. When she told me, I was stunned, and for ten whole seconds I thought, “Oh my God, how do I let her down easy??” Then I realized that my feelings hadn’t changed at all. Despite our initial claim that we were both straight, it was obvious that was untrue and I could deny it no longer. Needless to say, I fell deeply in love with that almond-eyed, dreadlocked, pink-lipped girl. We moved onto Skype. Life was finally beautiful and nothing else mattered. She wanted to come live with me. The prospect was three years away and it was she who was worried that I wouldn’t wait, that my feelings would change. Unfortunately, it was the other way around.
She ended it and smashed my heart on the ground, then spit on the shards, ground them into the dirt with her little studded black boots, and then begged me not to stop being her “friend”. I tried – of course I tried, because I would have given anything just to spend one hour around her. But I had no idea how to just be a friend, and I would lash out in anger when she hurt me, which was often. Things became very turbulent and we spoke less and less. Sometimes she would disappear for three months at a time…then pop back up and talk to me like nothing ever happened. I’ve been in relationships since, and I even thought I was over her once, but when I ended a seven month relationship with a guy a year or two ago, it wasn’t him I mourned…it was still her.
So despite the road toward accepting my bi-sexuality being a bit rough, I finally reached the point where I dove into it and didn’t look back. I’m not threatened by it anymore. Although I may never choose to physically act on it, or tell the people around me, at least I am alright with it and I have no qualms saying that I will love that girl forever.
For awhile I did think she was the exception. Before her, I never really connected with another girl, and after her I’ve been a bit gun shy. There were a few girls I worked with in the past two years, that I had crushes on. What attracted me first was personality, and later, physical appearance.
One girl was bouncy, bright, and so amazingly funny. She had stunning anime hair and the most innocent, joyful smile I have ever seen. Another girl was quiet and fierce, she had a lot of issues simmering under the surface, and I felt protective of her. She told me she loved me several times, but obviously she wasn’t saying it the way I would have liked to imagine. The last girl was Southern, dreamy and sensual. I could have fallen asleep listening to the slow rhythm of her voice, she was adorable and sexy all at once, a tomboy who had no idea how mesmerizing she was.
I never told any of them how I felt or that I was bi, mainly because it’s a small town and I didn’t want my conservative family to find out. Trusting a girl in person with that side of me would jeopardize my relationship with my family and right now is definitely not the time to let that happen.
So I kept quiet, and since then, I’ll honestly admit that my attraction to women is mostly physical. I admire from afar, partially because I know that’s all I can allow myself right now, and also because I have trouble relating to girls. I’m not a girly girl so I don’t want to talk about high heels and lipstick and I don’t want to go get manicures together. Maybe I’m sexist against my own gender for assuming that’s what female friendships are like, but I’m always much more comfortable with men, and I surround myself with them and open up to them easily, but with girls I feel we have little common ground.
Where does this leave me? I catch myself staring…in a restaurant, at the mall…it’s subconscious and I have to laugh at myself when I snap out of it and wonder if anyone is watching me, watching “her”. Women are so intriguing and beautiful. Men seem easy to relate to, understandable, approachable. I hate my body and have never felt feminine or pretty, so that contrast in most women appeals to me, and intimidates me. The girls I fall for always seem so much different from me, so unique and unattainable. I enjoy watching them, appreciating the little things about them, loving them from a distance. But I see them as beautiful mirages I will likely never touch.
And that’s the story…for now.