Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on my gayness; questioning my hesitance to embrace it and trying to understand what exactly I am feeling.
Over the past month, I have felt increasing certainty that I’m not a ‘love is love’ person, I’m gay. And I’m feeling good about that, yet another layer of who I am has emerged and it feels so good to own it.
To figure it out however, I needed to understand what it was I was clinging to, what box I was trying to fit in or what hoop I was trying to jump through. Why did I keep whispering no, when I desperately wanted to shout yes.
And then suddenly it became clear, I didn’t hate sleeping with men.
In the 16 years I slept with men, it was always lustful, physical and never emotionally satisfying. But that bit of enjoyment felt like a betrayal of the authenticity of my feelings for women. As if my body’s ability to orgasm with a man somehow precluded me from being a lesbian.
And that’s just not true, its ridiculous in fact.
And just like that, another switch flipped. I have been attracted to women virtually my entire life, I’ve never denied it, and I’ve acted on it many times over the years. I’m finally ready to admit that it’s women that I crave, it always has been and it always will be, because I’m gay.