Story time.

My earliest inner memories are sexual in nature. Throughout pre and elementary school, I had this very complex inner world that was dedicated to admiring and exploring the woman’s body. I didn’t know the word  “sex,” and I wouldn’t have been able to articulate that I was having sexual thoughts – but I knew that women held something that captivated me and caused me to feel both protective and adoring of them. There was a softness in women, a quality in their aura that sucked me in.

I was bullied throughout preschool, elementary school, middle school, and some of high school. I didn’t have many friends, but when I did make friends I couldn’t stop  myself from having crushes on my female friends and wanting more. I  didn’t know what “more” could be, but I wanted more closeness. I wanted to protect them. I wanted to love and dote on them. I wanted to breathe them in. I wanted to experience them. But somehow, I had internalized that these feelings were inappropriate and weird, so I stuffed them away. I tried to enjoy my platonic friendships with other girls, but these friendships always left me feeling empty, isolated, and disconnected.

In adolescence my peers began to express their interest in the opposite sex, and I had a couple of boyfriends that I truly liked as people and got along with very well. But these relationships were more like friendships than romances. And then, somewhere in the middle of my high school years, a girl kissed me. I don’t remember how it happened, but I remember kissing her back. We ended up having sex that night, and I remember feeling  like my entire hazy world had suddenly cleared up. I instantly knew what I wasn’t sure I could ever admit.

She and I kept our thing a secret but continued to be involved with one another for about three years. The relationship had its problems, but I was all in until it ended. In college I decided to come out as a lesbian and was dating women exclusiely. None of my college lesbian relationships lasted, and my being out was discouraged by so many that it became difficult to feel like I could relax and be myself. I had been taught that sexual orientation was a choice, and that if I continued to pursue lesbian relationships – I was being selfish.

I had dreams of marrying a woman (and had even been engaged to a woman at one point) but I kept those thoughts to myself and strived  for hetero-normalcy. I told myself  that my sexual orientation was a phase. It was a choice. And then, I met a guy.

This guy and I clicked on so many levels. We were both creative, into music, loved deep philosophical  conversation, and thought outside the box. He was cool people. There were some toxic elements in our relationship and I found myself supressing who I was quite often. I still felt isolated and disconnected all the time – but that was how I’d felt my entire existence. The trade off was that I finally felt like I had a real best friend in this guy. Things in life were finally going smoothly. I had a boyfriend and people liked us together. I wasn’t rocking the boat. I wasn’t misunderstood. I wasn’t constantly having to explain myself.

Overlapping my relationship with the guy from college was the friendship I’d built with the man who is now my husband. There wasn’t really any transition time from the college boyfriend to the future husband. I jumped from one ship and onto another. I still had feelings for women, but I thought I’d just have to put aside my feelings for women and make the choice to be with a man. I thought if I find the right man, then after awhile the feelings for women would go away. But that’s not how it works.

I have a lot of respect for my husband. He is a good person, a good father, a good husband, and my best friend. We’ve been married for almost thirteen years and I can’t overstate how much fun it is and how much I love the way we make fun of each other, rough-house, and goof off. We both enjoy over-reaction humor and have a million inside jokes where we are just yelling  crazy things at each other and laughing hysterically. He’s the greatest.

Almost two years ago, I wound up in a mental health hospital because my lifelong challenges with depression and suicidality had gotten a wee bit out of control. I started therapy for the first time, and in the process of going back through my history and extremely complex inner life – I’ve come to realize that I have always been a lesbian and I can’t do the pretending anymore.

My husband has known about my sexuality for awhile and has always been supportive of it. We’ve recently been connected with a therapist who specializes in this sort of thing, and are going to work with her to figure out the best way to make everything work. My husband and I are great friends, with a sweet little boy, and we aren’t looking to part ways. But, I also don’t want to live in this “straight jacket” anymore. I did what I believed was right in the past, but it really hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I’m not sure I can have a healthy life without living honestly and being who I am. So, that’s what I’m doing.  

I haven’t posted in awhile because there’s no point in writing if you can’t write honestly. I know that the suppression of my sexuality isn’t the only cause of depression and suicidality for me – but it definitely feels like I’ve gotten something off my chest. And I’ve never felt that way before. I love to write and I want to start writing again, but there will be no way to write honestly without writing about this.

So, here it is.

#dassit