I found honesty has a certain power that nothing else can compare to. It changes you. I’m still the slow, ever evolving turtle, yet I have found myself becoming very vocal in who I am with so many people. It’s scary and liberating at the same time.
I was talking to my gynecologist and trying to find words to let her know what was going on in my personal life. She batted her pretty lashes and told me that all women my age tend to lose interest in sex. That perhaps using lubrication and hydrating more will help. My head hung low as I gave in to disclosing any more information, after admitting my attraction to women. She had no interest in actually diving into my sex life, just my vagina, but not in a good way… ugh.
Why is it that we must be so vigilant in being a “good wife” or “good daughter?” Why can we not be worried about the symptoms and not bandaid the issue? She apparently had no interest in finding the cause of my uncomfortable sex, blaming it entirely on stress and motherly duties. She didn’t ask how I responded to my attraction to women. If my body was still tired and overworked when aroused by a woman. She didn’t want to address that at all. I bit my lip in frustration. I felt defeated, vowing to find a different doctor next year.
I took a trip home to see my family without the company of my husband and kids. It was a quick trip to surprise my mom. Nothing glamorous. I stayed with my sullen sister in her cave of an apartment. She has a live in boyfriend who had been a friend of mine since kindergarten. He knew more about me than most yet we hadn’t really talked in a long time. He was good for deep conversations and uncomfortable moments of hilarity. We went out for a nice dinner and then met up with a female friend of mine at a bar. My sister and her boyfriend didn’t want to stay long so they left me with my friend. Apparently he had caught me checking out a girls ass sometime that night and I was the topic of conversation once they got home. They both agreed that I’m probably not straight, but how much so, they didn’t know. That night my sister fell asleep, or so I thought as he and I shared secrets, including me coming out to him. It was a sort of cleansing.
The following days he begged me to tell her. I refused, not because she didn’t already have an idea but because my trust of her had been broken for so long I had no interest in giving her morsels of myself in which she could use as bullets into my character when she was needing someone else to look bad as a distraction to her own misgivings. It was painful to refuse but it was also empowering to know that I had the final say in who know what about me, even if it was superficial at best.
I am working slowly towards an open life and my husband has really been crucial in this. I think in some ways he knows deep down, like my sister does, the truth of who I am, but holds me so close to his heart that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. We have become very open in our relationship and there have been some learning curves but so far it has made my self acceptance easier. I have become much more open to friends about who I am and what I like. My life has been markedly easier in it’s honesty.
I don’t know how long this honeymoon will last. I don’t know where we move from here but I do know that being free to say who I am in the company of most of my friends really alleviates my pain and self homophobia. I think I need more of this freedom, but I also see it breeding more strange moments that I’m still not sure how to deal with. For example I had a woman I am friends with, ask to kiss me and then do so with little provocation. It was borderline assault but I was afraid to insult her by pushing off her advance. She asked to kiss me and I was like, “uhh ok,” not expecting a full on slobbering kiss. It took me by surprise and it was in front a very good friend of mine, making the scene that much more awkward. I jetted, grabbing my drunk husband from outside who hadn’t witnessed the event. The whole time I was a teenager, I longed to be with women but ignored it fearing kids would assume I was a slut or easy and now my fear had played out that night. I was feeling like I was being seen as some sort of easy swinger, ready to be with anyone. I was beyond upset. I cannot explain how much I want to be normal yet my life seems to be a circus. I am so very different from what normal is perceived to be and yet so afraid to walk that path. It is so very enticing yet taboo. All the rules are in complete juxtaposition to how I feel about my sexuality, who I am and how relationships work. I want it all but some of this cake tastes like shit. I have to figure now, how to make it all work for me and my life.
Who would have thought that my life would be such a strange carnival with all theses crazy things going on? Maybe I’ll actually find my place in this world, but it’s probably not going to be during a drunken night out anymore.