Who doesn't realize she likes women until she's 26?!

A few months before my 26th birthday, and in the wake of yet another ill-fitting committed monogamous, moving-toward-marriage relationship with a man, a light suddenly came on. I had broken up with my boyfriend, for what I thought was simple incompatibility, and then I found myself in bar on a Thursday night, flirting with the cutest girl I had seen in a long time (in Northampton, MA, that is). She was tending bar, and she had on these suspenders and a funky hat. I leaned over to ask another bartender whether or not she was straight, and before I knew it, I had this girl's number. I sat in my car later that night, flipping the folded piece of paper in my fingers, and wondering, "what took you so long?!" I went home, and told my ex (who was still living with me at the time--we even still slept together! Bad move, I know!) that we had to stop. That I had met a girl, and that I might be bisexual. "Might" was an understatement.

During my freshman year in college, I had been helping a senior gender & women's studies major code the portrayal of women in heterosexual pornography as part of her thesis. After about two weeks of watching endless hours of face shots, faked orgasms, and uninspired threesomes, we came across a bisexual clip of two women (the man came later, but by then we weren't watching), it happened. Anna looked over at me, we laughed nervously, and she kissed me. She kissed me again, and I moved closer to her. We made out for almost an hour. I had never really been kissed before (I hadn't had any boyfriends in high school), and I suppose I thought it felt amazing simply because it was completely new to me. From then on, we hooked up almost every time we did coding together. Sometimes we would try to resist, but we couldn't focus on what we were doing until we had our release. The tension was palpable, unbearable otherwise. The only time we ever talked about what we were doing was the second time she kissed me. A week had gone by since we first kissed, and although I hadn't really thought about it during the week, about an hour before she was scheduled to come over, I found myself contemplating the significance of her kisses. I don't know if I pulled back, or if she just sensed my hesitation, but she stopped. "Are you okay with this?" she asked me. I just looked at her. I didn't hesitate because I was mulling the question over, or because I was unsure of myself--it was more that I couldn't imagine why it wouldn't be okay. "This feels good," is all I could think. I looked back at her and said "yes" plainly and clearly. We never really hung out one-on-one outside of coding sessions, and we never held hands. When I saw her in the dining hall or we ended up at the same party, we just hung out, like friends. There were never any stolen glances or awkward moments. When she graduated, I hugged her no longer than I'd hug anyone else. She left, and I stayed, and that was that. I kissed many other girls, but I suppose I thought that's what you would call "experimentation." "It's college," I thought, "that's what kids do in college!"

I ended up dating a guy for the next three years, and because I had never been in a real relationship, I didn't know what was normal and what wasn't. I didn't know what love felt like, or how I should feel about anyone, really. It took me about a year to realize I wasn't attracted to him, and another year and a half to realize I didn't want to be with him. I stayed with him for the last 6 months only because I had been invited on his family vacation and had bought a non-refundable ticket.

The next guy I dated (my most recent ex) I liked a lot. I thought I was "in love" with him, I thought I was "attracted" to him. But it turns out that I'm just a sexual person. I'm "attracted" to sex--to talking about sex, having sex, and trying new things. Looking back on things, sex with men for me has always been a very cerebral thing. I wouldn't say that I was pleasured by the actual act so much as by the images I create for myself in my head, the provocative things I say to myself in my head. Does this make me a lesbian? I don't know. I was very intimate with Anna (the senior girl) but we never engaged in what I consider to be the ultimate intimate act. So now I find myself asking two questions: 1) how could this not have occurred to me until now?! and 2) do I have to go down on a woman to know that I'm truly bisexual/a lesbian?

I apologize if any part of this post is too graphic or crass. I am just looking to talk to someone (preferably someone who knows where I'm coming from). Thanks for listening.

GreyGirl08

 

Thanks for all of the stories! I don't feel nearly as stupid now! I guess, looking back on things, I had my first crush on a girl when I was 16, but maybe I thought that as long as I was bi it was okay. I just kept thinking, "Well at least I like men too. I can just live a heterosexual life and it won't matter." Now I'm not certain I'm attracted to men...

I think all of this has really just hit me in the last month or two. I am on the committee to plan my family's family reunion this year, and I picked this great hotel in Toronto. It's got a wonderful view of the city, and several spectacular amenities. It turns out that it's also in the gay district of Toronto. I had no idea, and I didn't really care either way. I was having a conversation with my dad about it, though, and talking about how some of our family members can be sort of closed-minded/ignorant about other people's lifestyles. I expressed that I wasn't going to stand for any hateful comments, or derogatory jokes from them, and my dad said "well, scripturally speaking, being gay is wrong." (my parents "found God" when I was 16, and, frankly, I never really bought it--they don't seem any different/better to me!). I love my dad, I have always been close with him, and considered him to be one of the most intelligent people I know, so I was totally caught off guard by this comment! And even after I tried to explain to him that, God, as I understand Christianity to conceptualize him/her/zhe would not first make people the way that they are and them punish them for it, he continued to say that being gay is wrong. I finally just said that I couldn't talk about it anymore, and hung up the phone. I haven't spoken to him since. He keeps calling, and I don't know what to say, so I just don't pick up.

In addition, I have been seeing a girl publicly for about a month now, and I have been called a dyke twice! Once by a lesbian acquaintance, and once by a guy who I didn't want to talk to. For some reason this word is really grating at me. I don't like it. When my acquaintance said it, she was intoxicated, and upon learning that I was seeing a girl, screamed "I knew it! I knew you were a dyke!" Everyone in the bar stopped and looked at me, and it somehow felt awful. I have no problem kissing the girl I'm seeing in public, or being affectionate, but for some reason I don't like being labeled a "dyke." And as for the guy, he grabbed my arm, and said, "what are you, a dyke? You can't talk to me for a second?" I slapped him in the face! I'm not usually a violent person, but this word elicits a visceral reaction in me--I don't know why. Am I ashamed without knowing it? Am I unsure? Or is it just the idea of labeling? I don't really know. But I do know that, as a black person, I don't subscribe to the belief that just because I myself am black I can call another black person the "n" word. I think maybe I feel the same way about "dyke." It strikes me as derogatory, and totally rubs me the wrong way. Am I wrong? Is this one of those examples where members of the group can say the word without issue? Am I being overly sensitive?

Thanks again for all of your realization stories--this support is tremendously helpful. Oh--and I have 2 new gay friends! They are married, and men, but hey, you've gotta start somewhere!

xoxo
GreyGirl08

 

Hello all! Thanks for all of the input! I'm so glad I found this site!

I think that, for now, anyway, my stance on "dyke" is pretty much in line with what thedreamwatch said. I feel like it's just another "n" word, and I don't like it. It's not that I don't want to be labeled in general, I just don't know what that label should be yet. I like women now, but I must have liked something about the men I dated before, right? I didn't hate sex with men--I liked it a lot of the time. I just don't know if it really counts if I'm thinking about women while sleeping with men...

Lexington, I appreciated your post, but I'm not sure the analogy is really an equitable one. I guess I just feel like the set of assumptions that come with labels regarding sexuality denote far more innate and consequential characteristics of a person than the presumptions that come with being born in a given town. I don't fear the "dyke" or "lesbian" label because I'm afraid people will think I like to wear men's underwear--I guess I fear it more because I can't own it yet; I can't stand up an be proud, defend it, because I don't know it to be true. I have been black for my whole life, and it took a long time for me to own that, and navigate what that means to me. I just need some time to navigate my sexuality as well.

If I'm being completely honest, I think I'm also afraid of labels because it seems like being bisexual and being a lesbian are two very different things. If I'm bi, than there's a chance that I'll end up with a man, and not have to live the doubly hard life of being a minority in more than one regard. If I'm a lesbian, though, than it seems that life will inherently be more difficult to navigate. I already spend my days educating and navigating the world around me as a racial minority, and having to do so as a queer person as well will make things that much harder. I'll have to move to a state where I can get married, and that may not be a state where I'm allowed to adopt a child with my partner, so we may have to go somewhere else for that. I'll have to be even more careful when traveling (some friends and I accidentally ended up in a rural part of West Virginia once, and found ourselves in a sticky situation at a gas station that was flying a confederate flag!) I know that it's the 21st century, but ignorance is alive and well (as that man who called me a dyke illustrated very clearly.) So forgive me for being a coward, but life as racial minority has been hard enough!

Oh-- and mnguy, I'm totally with you on the religion front. I don't believe that the bible says that being gay is wrong. And even if it does, I don't believe that God truly thinks being gay is wrong. It's a static text that cannot possibly be completely relevant in the present. In the same way that we realize that it's no longer necessary give our neighbors a pig when we want our daughters to marry their sons (this is just an example--the bible has lots of obsolete things like that in it), we need to realize that some of the things that are written in the bible are not relevant to modern life.

yourillusion: maybe you'll have better luck in noho than I have--it's harder to meet people than you'd think, even in this town!

I'm going to stop rambling on now, but I welcome more thoughts, and more advice. I would love to hear from anyone who has ever been in a poly (open) relationship. The girl I'm seeing has a primary partner, and I'm having trouble figuring out how to be personally fulfilled while still respecting the primary relationship...Any thoughts?