The title of this blog is a good representation of my thoughts these last few days. As a result, every time I sit down to write, I am having a hard time focusing.
I shrug my shoulders at this development. How wonderful to be so happy with someone that you can't stop thinking about them.
Becca, Becca, Becca.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
A Different Sort of Pride
There are a few moments in life when the truth of something overcomes you, changes you, consumes you so completely that everything makes sense, if only for a few days. I have only experienced this sense of epiphany twice before—when I realized I was attracted to women, and when I knew I no longer believed in God.
I have identified myself as bisexual for nearly six years now. Having only experienced a limited amount of sexual contact with women, I believed this to be true. I do enjoy having sex with some men, and I thought that this meant I was attracted to both men and women. I have never felt my gender role inappropriate, other than when my father taught me that a woman’s true calling was housewifery. But once I left his home for the big, beautiful world of people who all had different ideas about what being a woman meant, I had no qualms with what was expected of me due to my gender. I had no reason to question or doubt my attraction or compatibility to men. Even when my marriage to a man failed, partially because of our sexual incongruity, I continued to date men, assuming that the problem with my attraction to him was due to issues external to my sexuality.
I spent the next year of my life with another man. I understood that I enjoyed his androgyny, but the relationship was not sexually dysfunctional. I took this as a sign that I was indeed bisexual. When Alex finally left for the last time a few months ago, I re-entered the dating world via men once again.
It wasn’t until recently that I sought women out. Online, actually. I felt that as a bisexual, I should experiment more with women. So, I met Becca. We e-mailed back and forth for a while, and I enjoyed her wit and personality. When she sent me a picture, I thought she was really cute. I was excited to meet her. The first night we went out it was exhilarating. We talked and talked, gushing about the amazing food we were eating, and sharing our interest in dogs and art. I had a great time. I found myself thinking about her a lot the next few days.
When Tuesday night happened, and I won’t go into details for those blushing violets who might read this, I wasn’t prepared for my emotional and physical reaction. It was the first time I had ever gone that far with a girl before, and the result shook to me to my core. Yes, I enjoyed being physically close to men, but it wasn’t anything like being with a girl. As the night progressed everything felt natural and right. My body felt like it fit with hers. It was so beautiful, and I was overwhelmed by this crazy, life-changing peace that I can’t really explain. If I believed in fate, I would say that I was meant to be with women. If I believed in God, I would say that I was made to be with women. But because I am neither, I will say that due to genetics, my environment, or some other reason, I am a lesbian.
As I type that last sentence, I feel strange. All of this is foreign and new. Some of it is terrifying, some of it is wonderful. But there is no going back. Consider this post, on a blog I have not bothered to tell many of my friends about, and of which I only have two readers, as my announcement to the world that I am gay. Tell who you will, for this weekend I am excited and proud to join Salt Lake’s community of women in celebrating who we are, and who we love.
I have always been proud of being bisexual, but this pride, this year, will be a different sort of pride. I am so grateful to all of the friends and family members who enable me to be out and proud. Thank you for your love and support.
I have identified myself as bisexual for nearly six years now. Having only experienced a limited amount of sexual contact with women, I believed this to be true. I do enjoy having sex with some men, and I thought that this meant I was attracted to both men and women. I have never felt my gender role inappropriate, other than when my father taught me that a woman’s true calling was housewifery. But once I left his home for the big, beautiful world of people who all had different ideas about what being a woman meant, I had no qualms with what was expected of me due to my gender. I had no reason to question or doubt my attraction or compatibility to men. Even when my marriage to a man failed, partially because of our sexual incongruity, I continued to date men, assuming that the problem with my attraction to him was due to issues external to my sexuality.
I spent the next year of my life with another man. I understood that I enjoyed his androgyny, but the relationship was not sexually dysfunctional. I took this as a sign that I was indeed bisexual. When Alex finally left for the last time a few months ago, I re-entered the dating world via men once again.
It wasn’t until recently that I sought women out. Online, actually. I felt that as a bisexual, I should experiment more with women. So, I met Becca. We e-mailed back and forth for a while, and I enjoyed her wit and personality. When she sent me a picture, I thought she was really cute. I was excited to meet her. The first night we went out it was exhilarating. We talked and talked, gushing about the amazing food we were eating, and sharing our interest in dogs and art. I had a great time. I found myself thinking about her a lot the next few days.
When Tuesday night happened, and I won’t go into details for those blushing violets who might read this, I wasn’t prepared for my emotional and physical reaction. It was the first time I had ever gone that far with a girl before, and the result shook to me to my core. Yes, I enjoyed being physically close to men, but it wasn’t anything like being with a girl. As the night progressed everything felt natural and right. My body felt like it fit with hers. It was so beautiful, and I was overwhelmed by this crazy, life-changing peace that I can’t really explain. If I believed in fate, I would say that I was meant to be with women. If I believed in God, I would say that I was made to be with women. But because I am neither, I will say that due to genetics, my environment, or some other reason, I am a lesbian.
As I type that last sentence, I feel strange. All of this is foreign and new. Some of it is terrifying, some of it is wonderful. But there is no going back. Consider this post, on a blog I have not bothered to tell many of my friends about, and of which I only have two readers, as my announcement to the world that I am gay. Tell who you will, for this weekend I am excited and proud to join Salt Lake’s community of women in celebrating who we are, and who we love.
I have always been proud of being bisexual, but this pride, this year, will be a different sort of pride. I am so grateful to all of the friends and family members who enable me to be out and proud. Thank you for your love and support.
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