In my original post, I had asked for your stories. Since I don’t have a TON of readers, I did get some but they trickled in, as opposed to pouring in. So in lieu of just posting random coming out stories I wanted to have a good bunch for you to absorb. They also got lost in the loads of spam I apparently am not immune to but then a reader asked when I would publish them and it got my wheels turning. My life has been rather crazy, if you read my blog, you can see. But I did make a promise, and I didn’t ask for them just so I could hoard them. I really wanted to include my own. My words are strewn across a year and a half worth of posts and I’m sure you haven’t read them all so I figured I’d start off and share a summary of my personal journey.
I’d sneak into the showers to change in high school. I didn’t care if the other girls looked at me, but I didn’t want to get caught staring at them. I didn’t dare wash my gaze over their perfect breasts or the asses that bounced as they shimmied their jeans up after gym. I was in hell, or was it heaven? Perhaps only hell if they ever caught me. I was already an outsider looking in, I didn’t need any more fuel for the fire. Plus boys were ok, I guess, but damn those girls were beautiful. I had several crushes but just chalked it up to envy.
As I got older I went to college and had a friend who was bi. She drug me to a local gay bar, but there were few femmes and I had no idea what the hell to do. I had no attraction to her, as my taste is particular. The bar was mainly for men and the few lesbians that frequented it assumed I was straight. I assumed I was too, yet I yearned for some lovely woman to take charge and show me how much I wasn’t.
I had two one night stands with the same woman when I moved back to New England and it was amazing. I kept saying to myself “This is it! This is what I want!” I then acquired yet another friend, except this time she was a full blown boi. Anytime we went to a bar everyone assumed we were together and she didn’t stop the assumptions. I was trying to come to terms with my sexuality at a snails pace and was hoping that I would finally meet someone but it never happened. I kept hoping for another encounter but more meaningful and longer lasting. Unfortunately I was too afraid to take control and admit what I really wanted. I just kept waiting for it to fall in my lap. It never did. So as I walked down the aisle on the day I got married, the only thing that made me question if I was going in the right direction was my sexuality. I hushed my inner voice because I assumed that I was bi and just decided to take the “easier” route, the straighter path.
I had been pretty open about my experiences with my husband and he actually seemed to embrace my openness. After many passing years my inner voice started to come back, louder than ever. I told him my secret needs, so afraid he would hate me or be incredibly hurt. Instead he gave me permission to explore. I had been secretly talking to a woman but did not want to commit to a long distance relationship. That was too much for me. I wanted to remain detached. I wanted to still be unbiased and not chance falling in love with anyone. We remained great friends and she has helped me through the strange and beautiful process of coming to terms with my identity. It wasn’t long after that I worked with a beautiful young woman and spent a single incredibly hot night with her, but her husband was furious. My husband confessed that at first he was hurt but quickly regained himself. I did not give him the details out of shame and fear. Only when I was drunk a few months later did I tell him exactly what went on. The fear I had was intense. I was and am still hiding alot more than I can process. It’s a daily struggle. On one hand my life has this beautiful veneer of a sweet loving husband, two lovely children and a full and happy life, then there’s the flip side where I wonder if this is what “my happy” is supposed to look like, or is there more? The inner voice in my head keeps whispering me that there is…
Married 25 years, 2 grown children, never touched a woman. Husband bought me a lap dance, rest is history. Took me 5 years to find HER but once I did I never looked back. We’ve been together 2+ years and I’ve never been happier.
Your story and mine are almost parallel, but I haven’t slept with anyone. My husband and I have talked, but sometimes it seems like I never said a word..he acts like I am my old self. I keep making comments, wanna watch ‘The L Word” with me. I like the sex, I say…he doesn’t. He thinks showing me play for pay women in porn scratched the itch/burn. Not a chance. They revolt me. Like you, I absolutely ache and clutch my belly when I see someone appealing. I blush, flirt, fantasize for days/week when I meet a new woman I am attracted to. I have been unrequited in love, 11 years ago with a classmate. Cried buckets on my marriage be. In love even with my bff…agony to be aroused every time she kissed and hugged me hello/goodbye. Like you, I am a master of control, but that is as much circumstance (small town, not in the lesbian club) as ability.
This is in my heart,part of me, but not all of me. Right now, I need sex…will fake it til I make it with my husband, again….
~Strange Fire by Amy, Tucson, AZ~
I found the cassette tape labeled “Bach Sonatas”, dropped it into my Walkman, adjusted my bicycle helmet and set off for the 14-mile ride to my summer job before my junior year in high school. As soon as I pressed play, the sublime harmonies of the Indigo Girls filled my ears, and I felt like my forbidden strange fire had a home. I feverishly borrowed every Indigo Girls tape from my one wild friend Melissa, so that I could copy the music and label the cassettes with some socially acceptable classical music piece that my mother would glance at with approving eyes. Growing up in a far right evangelical Christian community, I played the role of a model student, hard-working athlete, studious Bible Study participant, and community volunteer. At age 14 my veneer began to crack along two fault lines. First, I loved nature and wanted to be a Commie Pinko Liberal Tree Hugger (a term muttered with disgust by my family). Second, I liked girls (a sin of the grandest proportions). I reasoned that I could only brave one sinful confession, so I chose to outwardly embrace my Commie Pinko Liberal Tree Hugger leanings and inwardly condemn my attraction to girls to a deep and untouched corner of my soul. That strategy worked as I chased my Tree Hugger dreams, married a Very Nice and Accomplished Man, and settled into a life that eventually met with the approval of my family and judgmental hometown community. Or at least that strategy worked until it didn’t work. I met a wild, untamed, beautiful woman while on a business trip and the long-muted small corner of my soul exploded into a million pieces all over my tidy and carefully constructed life. While this woman touched my life only briefly, the explosion of my Real Self remained, refusing to ever again be denied light or nourishment. I shared everything with my husband, who responded with expansive love, compassion, and an unfaltering desire to remain married. Loving him as I would my best friend or dearest family member, I now stand at the proverbial fork in the road. There is little doubt that the beautiful life he and I have built is based on authentic and essential parts of myself. He is a part of my core self, and I do not wish to lose his presence in my daily life. And yet… I yearn for a life where my daily movements celebrate my Real Self and include loving a woman as my life partner. But still… I am 38 years old and want most dearly to have a child, a diminishing possibility at which time is slowly chipping. I feel as if my fork in the road presents mutually exclusive trajectories: i) stay married and have a child, but continue to lay dormant my long-denied Real Self – OR – ii) leave my marriage for a yet formed relationship with a woman and place my ability to have a child in the hands of fate. Neither of these options honors my Real Self or the commitments I have already made in my life, so my mind churns on creative or unconventional scenarios that might allow all parts of my Real Self to dance. And so I stand, with an anxious spirit and a spinning mind at this inexorable fork in the road. And I put on my bicycle helmet, hop on my road bike, and listen to my Indigo Girls playlist.
I’m gunna just go ahead and let it all out. You can cut it down if its too long…First off i love writing and im more of a def poetry writer. If you’ve ever heard of that… But here it goes…. When i was in 8th grade i got a sense that i was into girls. I freaked but had some good people to talk to. It shouldve been obvious before then with how i grew up. I hung out with my older bro nd his friends.. Only one other girl and she practically popped outta her mamma a dyke. But then freshmen year.. 2 years ago.. I got in a serious relationship with this guy. I fell in love… First love. (Keep in mind, i didn’t have a clue what a healthy relationship was. I watched my biological mom go through guys like cigarettes…) so a few months went by and my home life got worse. Stuff went down and i did anything and everything for him. He was extremely abusive. He never hit me.. He threw me around a couple times ..(literally) but verbally, psychologically and sexually… Everyday. A lot more stuff went down. I got really sick… Mentally.. I’m doing better now that I’m not with him. But I think I’m a lesbian because i get absolutley sick to my stomach when it comes to a penis, but i could talk about a vagina all day. I’m attracted to guys.. Just not whats attached to them.. And i get along with guys.. Friendship wise. I remember being like 5 years old tellin my dad i was gay cuz I knew something wasn’t “right”. But he blew it off and so did i.. Now I’m really thinkin there was somethin to my little mind.
I’m a 44 yo woman from Oregon, married with a young child. My husband and I have a solid relationship and the sex is still good after 10 years. However, it is not enough to satiate my sexual appetite. I yearn to make love with women.
I have been attracted to the same sex since I was a young girl. My first sexual experience was with a girl (just some light touching). We were both close to 12 years old and still very innocent. During my high school years I was attracted to 2 of my girlfriends but nothing ever developed. In college, I had a whiskey-drenched make-out session with with my roommate that, sadly, we never repeated. In the late 80s, I slept with a woman one night who was lingering at my place after a party. That was the first time I ever buried my face between a woman’s legs and I loved it. About 10 years later, I had a threesome with a woman and her husband and I very much enjoyed the woman. And now, here I am, married and settled, but still desiring a lady friend with whom to spend an occasional erotic afternoon. Am I a sex addict? Am I a lesbian?
Last year, I met a woman on Craigslist. We met for a glass of wine and went back to her place where we talked and kissed. (You’re the first person I’ve confessed this to, by the way). She and I communicated regularly for a bit afterwards, but I was scared to follow through for a number of reasons. I fell out of touch with her … until recently. A year has passed and I’m going to see her this weekend. I have a rare day alone this Saturday and we’re getting together for a bottle of wine and hopefully more kissing. We’ve been arranging this meeting for the last 2 weeks and I’ve done lots of fantasizing about it. I already know what I’m going to wear. I’m aching just writing about it right now. I’m sure you can relate.
I don’t remember anytime that I wasn’t planning on (in my head) of marrying a woman or having a wife. It didn’t seem natural to me, to imagine marrying a man. I remember thinking in my head that one day I will have a wife, and that will be the future I have. Children or no children, it doesn’t matter.
Just because you think that all your life doesn’t mean that you won’t have a hard time accepting who you are. It’s one thing to think about it, and to know it, but it’s another thing to start living out your life in such a way that you will one day be marrying that beautiful girl you have fallen in love with. As many people begin their stories, they begin it along the lines of “I was raised in the church.” And this is true for me. My dad was a deacon until he remarried. I was involved in church and was a faithful member of a church that actively preaches against homosexuality. I, myself, was inconsiderate and incapable of compassion towards gay people at one time because I was so indoctrinated in the beliefs of the church. I even was a Christian camp counselor. I might have remained in the closet for the rest of my life until I realized that my life is far too short for me to waste time. I can’t waste my life hiding away a big part of me.
Part of the reason I was so hesitant to do so is because of that big church background. But I eventually realized that if it were truly wrong, I would not feel the feelings I feel for my significant other and feel okay with them. I knew that there would be something that would really hurt my heart.
It was not very hard for my friends to figure out that I was gay. Even when I did date some guy, they just waited it out, knowing that I would figure it out eventually. When I came out for the first time to my first friend, we were playing cards, I told her I was gay and she simply said “I know.” How anti-climatic! All of my friends knew before I did. I was freaking out about telling people….and they were like “duh!”
I came out to my dad about a year ago. He said nothing at first, but then told me that he thought it was wrong, and that if I believed that God was okay with it, I must be possessed with a demonic spirit. (oh, boy!) He did, however, tell me that he loved me and wanted the best for me. He also asked me to go to counseling with him, but we have yet to schedule that. I am thankful, however, because he did not disown me or tell me I had to leave my family. He has also respected my privacy thus far, and has opted not to tell people. Whether that is truly a privacy concern for him, or he’s ashamed of it, that has yet to be determined, but I am grateful that he has not yelled it to the rooftops, because I do live in such an oppressive place.
Does it get better? Yes! The people that I call my friends are all accepting and are very open about it. It doesn’t make them squeemish and they are very supportive. They help me try to figure out the woman mind and they encourage me. I am a very fortunate gay person in North Carolina, because I have found a very supportive group of people whom I call my friends, when they’re really my family now.
If the opportunity presents itself this weekend, Honey, I will cheat on my husband with this woman. I will kiss, caress, and savor every inch of her that she offers me. And then I will live with the guilt brought on by my selfishness and disloyalty. Or I won’t get lucky and I’ll acknowledge and move on. Either way, I know it is wrong to do what I am doing. My husband would never acquiesce to my having a woman lover. He would be hurt. Even my closest girlfriend would never understand. She would tell me that I have a good man and that I shouldn’t blow it. She would be deeply disappointed.
Truth is, I do have a good man and I don’t want to hurt him or our relationship or our little girl. But the fact remains: I want to be with a woman, physically, tenderly, sexually, spiritually. I need a friend who understands this and won’t judge me. In fact, I need encouragement. Sometimes it is so hard to follow one’s bliss.
Is a secret life so bad?
Thank you ladies for sharing your stories. I apologize that it took so long to put them all together, but I didn’t want to ask you to put yourself out there without giving you something in return. This was inspired by the first book I ever read once I started questioning my sexuality, called “Dear John, I Love Jane.”
It made me feel much less alone knowing that I wasn’t the only person out there going through this. If you have a chance to read it, do it. I poured through it in just days. Once again thank you for sharing and also thank you for being a part of my blog, whether it’s by sharing your story, commenting, or just by reading it. It means the world to me that I can share my deepest feelings and find such support in the abyss of the web. It helps that inner voice speak up in a way it never has been able to before. Thank you.