(I use the term "gay" loosely, since I am technically bisexual, but I don't completely like that word, because I wonder if being with a man will make me wish I wasn't "missing out." I often think of "gay" as all but the T in LGBT.)
I always knew that other girls were different than me, and I always wondered what was wrong with them.
Now I am really excited that I get to be gay. I find myself literally thinking, "I can't believe I get to be gay! I get to kiss and be with a girl someday! This is awesome!"
But the thing is...if I am so excited that I "get to" be gay, doesn't that mean that I secretly wished I was gay all along? And if I secretly wished I was gay all along, doesn't that mean that I actually was gay, and was actually wishing that I could be with a girl?
I remember my mom recounting to me a survival show that she watched with my dad, because he likes them, and that's how they spend time together. (I know this is a second-hand account, but I can't be bothered to try to look up the show or the clip.) The man who was alone in the wilderness started complaining about women rejecting him and breaking his heart. "I wish I could be gay!" he exclaimed mournfully. "But alas, I am not gay!"
And it makes me wonder, why does he wish he was gay? To be with men? Well, I've got good news for you, buddy! You're at least bisexual! :)
I've also got bad news: Men might be just as shitty as women.(Hint hint: You're a man--right? Are you sure you didn't give them a good reason to leave you?) Don't be sexist.
And it amazes me how many people still assume I want a man, even after I've discovered this part of myself. I guess they didn't get the memo. My mom says I don't give off "gay vibes" even at work among the conservatives, but in my mind, I walk through the world like a bull dyke. I already have a low voice and big, heavy feet. And I like my feet. Sometimes I even like my voice, except when it gets tired at work and cracks.
Do they think I am just clueless about makeup, too clueless to put any on? I sometimes wonder if my coworkers just think I'm a simpleton about being a traditional girl. Or maybe the receptionist, who is the most vocally conservative, thinks I don't believe makeup is modest enough to please God. I'm honestly surprised that old woman wears pants, even though she sometimes wears long skirts too.
Looking back, there are some things that probably should have given me a clue about my bisexuality. My jokes in church youth group about flirting with other girls. My grandmother calling me, "You little gay thing, you," when I joked about it with my family. Thinking that maybe someday, if I lost my husband, it might be fun to be an old lesbian feminist in a hippie commune. Thinking that stuff like that was just feminist sisterhood. Thinking it felt strange, the thought of being "the woman" in a relationship with a man--and sometimes it even felt strange to think of being with a man.
My body fooled me, because my feelings towards other girls didn't "feel" sexual, because it felt different than my feelings towards boys. It still does. It seems it took a while for the sexual feelings to catch up. Maybe I was just repressing something.
I have two different feelings, for two different binary genders, but that doesn't make either one less real or intense. I don't know if it means that I only feel romantic towards one gender or the other, or if it means something else. Or if it means anything at all. But I think it would be a shame, if I fell in love with a man, and then that was it--my chances of dating a woman would then drop to zero. And I do like some guys, sometimes very much. But how to tell a guy that he is not enough, or that he eventually won't be?
Dating a woman is on my bucket list. Because I can do that now! And I never realized, before three years ago, that I really, really wanted that. I wanted that chance. And now I have it.
I thought of my feelings for women as "sensual," and because I was distracted by boys, I didn't realize that I could be girl-crazy too. Now I'm in love with everybody, and since I'm an introvert and a very lazy dater, I'm not acting on any of it. Maybe after tax season, when I don't have to worry about learning my new job anymore.
It's a strange feeling, to stumble on something you never knew you wanted. I try to have a loose grip on my expectations of the future, because of the huge rainbow turn my life has taken. What else don't I know? It's like I'm at the mercy capricious, gay gods, who are laughing at me.
I love it, though. LGBT stuff provides endless learning, and through learning about others' lives and perspectives, I hope to learn more about myself. It's endlessly fascinating, and I never get tired of it. When I can resist the urge to argue with the homophobic thoughts that pop into my head, and just focus on good things--or deal with the grief that comes up, so that I can move on--I think it's really awesome to be gay.
Someday I'll know what comedian Wanda Sykes is talking about when she says, "Pussy makes you do crazy things." Someday I'll share my life with another crazy old cat lady--who isn't my mom. Somebody attractive. (My mom got really mad when I once used the phrase, "Like you, but attractive." Even though my mom and I share the same sense of humor, and almost all the same values, I'm afraid she has pretty much turned me off to curly hair or big boobs on skinny people. I don't want to think of my mom when kissing someone.)
Someday I can have an awesome life, centered mostly around women. My life is already more awesome than it was when I thought I was straight. It's like I wished for this all along.
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