It Takes Time

In some ways, being out has been easy for me; once I accepted my truth, it became easy to live it. I started to shine and slowly but surely I began to find my identity, I used to feel uncertain where I fit, not quite deserving of a contributing seat at the gay table and yet clearly not meant to fit in the hetero world either.

But all of that has changed, I feel a comfortable camaraderie being lumped into the lesbian stereotypes and happily giggle along with all the gay funnies. Its taken me twenty long years to find myself, but when I finally burst out of that closet, literally everything became clearer.

I live my life according to my own agenda, I pursue love and light and happiness and I will not compromise that which is important to me for anyone ever again. Yet its important to keep things in perspective, to remember my life, my choices and my person have impacts on others.

My family, my parents in particular, are struggling. In their hearts, I know they want me to be happy, and they understand that love is love but having a gay daughter isn’t exactly the same as generally supporting the gay agenda. I know that to them, its a change of massive proportions and that in time, everything will work itself out.

Meeting  my girlfriend’s family last week made my heart swell and gave me a glimpse of family inclusivity. Her family has had virtually her entire adult life to come to terms with her sexuality and its very evident that my girlfriends family loves and accepts her just as  she is; it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced.

I can only hope that in time, my family will adjust to my new reality and be able to not just accept, but welcome my gay self and my love with open arms.

 

Breathless

I remember the first time I kissed a boy; I was 13, it was a warm summer night and I absolutely hated it. He pressed his lips pressed so hard against mine, his tongue invading my mouth and what I remember most clearly, is an overwhelming inability to breathe.

And in the twenty years that followed, I continued to hate kissing boys and generally avoided it. I convinced myself that my allergies and stuffy nose were the culprit of my distaste and my ex never questioned it. He also accepted that I wasn’t very affectionate and I hated snuggles, cuddles and touching in general.

I remember the first time I kissed a girl; I was 19, she was a friend and her kisses felt so right. Soft lips, sensual caresses and an instinctual familiarity and comfort that left me breathless. And somehow over the years that would follow, I would neglect to realize the difference between feeling unable to breathe and feeling breathless and more importantly, just who made me feel each.

This is just one of the signs of my sexuality that I ignored; I wasted years making excuses and choosing not to listen to my intuition and my instincts. I know now that I had it wrong all along, I wasn’t unaffectionate and I didn’t hate kissing, I hated kissing boys.

But where my girlfriend is concerned, I love all the kisses and always seem to need just one more. My girlfriend fills me with love and light and happiness, her kisses are like candy for my soul, filling me with a sweetness that I can never quite seem to get enough of, her touch awakens my nerve endings, sending tiny ripples of energy undulating across my skin.

In her arms, I feel like I’m finally home.

Unsurprisingly Gay

Not for the first time, someone asked me recently if I was surprised, in the context of a conversation about my girlfriend.

Am I surprised that I have a girlfriend? No.
Am I surprised that I’m gay? No.

So obviously, regardless of what exactly she was trying to ask me, the answer was no; I tried to casually explain that it was more of a personal acceptance thing and she couldn’t seem to help but prod a little deeper, asking me if I had a feeling, when I left my ex-husband “that was the way it would go”?

And although I answered her and I laughed (a lot) about the whole conversation later, I can’t help but wonder why anyone would feel that asking me about the state of my sexuality, when I walking away from a 14 year relationship, would be appropriate.

This woman is not my friend, she is an acquaintance at best; she too is divorced and has a much younger fiance but I can’t imagine asking her if she had a feeling she might date a younger man when she was leaving her husband.

In another, unrelated, conversation with someone else it was suggested that perhaps I was bisexual, immediately after I explained I had no desire to date men. I assured her, that although I had believed I was bisexual for many years, it is simply not the case.

Again, I can’t help but wonder why she felt that was an appropriate comment and what she thought she was adding to the conversation. Did she imagine I’d never heard of bisexuals or that in accepting that I was gay I hadn’t put significant thought  into what that meant?

I am honest to a fault and I am an open book to just about anyone who is brave enough to ask me the questions to which they desire answers. And so I will continue to have these conversations as they present themselves and I hope that speaking my truth will help, at least a few people, understand. Although I was married to a man for a long time, it was not a surprise to me, that I am gay. I did not wake up one morning and simply discover a rainbow filled world.

For years I told myself that I didn’t discriminate and that I was attracted to people regardless of gender. I told myself that even though the intimacy and connection that I could find with a woman alluded me in all of my heterosexual relationships, I couldn’t be a lesbian because I didn’t hate traditional sex.

I had to work through those misconceptions and I had to understand and accept my own desires. My sexuality belongs to me and accepting that I’m gay didn’t surprise me at all; what has surprised me however, was how much accepting my gay has empowered me.

via Daily Prompt: Acceptance

It Changes Everything

“Realizing that I’m  pretty fucking gay has made a big difference for me in figuring out who I am.”

This week I described myself as ‘pretty fucking gay’ and I feel pretty fucking great about it. It’s an absolutely true statement, I am not a little bit gay and I’m certainly not ‘maybe gay’ anymore either. I find myself thinking back on so many experiences over the past 20 years and the signs have always been there. I have always been attracted to women, always.

And now that I’ve found that piece of me, it will not be denied; I seem to have found my  lesbian self in pretty short order if I’m being honest. Granted I think I’d been making my way out for a long time, but when my girlfriend jokes about me parading around in my rainbow tutu, it doesn’t feel too far from the truth.

I read an article a while ago (I don’t remember which one, I read a lot) that made reference to the gay glow that newly out people get. From where I’m standing I have no idea what it looks like from the outside, but I can assure you that from the inside I feel so vibrant that perhaps glow is the right word.

I was recently trying to find a way to explain all of this to a friend in the midst of a discussion about someone else she knew. Despite all my feelings and thoughts on the topic, I spit out somewhat meaningful gibberish at best; ‘it’s a big thing to figure out who you are, especially when you didn’t even know, that you didn’t know. It changes everything.’

And that’s the truth.

Turns out, I’m pretty fucking gay and that realization has changed a whole lot of everything for me.

I am Enough

In a world ruled  by chaos, my constants used to be doubt, guilt and uncertainty; I could never seem to let go long enough to fully appreciate the beauty of my sheer existence. I was unable to see that everything I needed was within me: waiting to be nurtured, waiting to be free.

I needed to stand tall and leave behind the life I had built, with no idea where I was going, knowing only that the life I had wasn’t the one meant for me. I needed to learn to be me, just me; not a mom, not a wife, not a girlfriend, me.

And when I finally stood alone and channeled all my energy inwards, my world literally exploded and became something entirely new and incredibly beautiful. I found my ‘don’t give a fuck’ and started to let my opinion be the only one that mattered. For the first time I reflected on my dreams, my desires and my future without consideration for anyone else.

And when I did that, it was like putting on glasses for the first time; watching a world I thought I knew slowly come into focus, only to discover that nothing was quite what I had believed.

When I accepted my truth and claimed my gay, all the irrelevant baggage I’d been carrying around dissipated and I was left standing alone, looking in the mirror. In my reflection I see a lesbian, but more than that, I see woman who knows who she is and I see a woman who can’t hide the joy the emanates from within her. She’s been in there all along waiting to be free and now that we’ve united, what remains is an incredibly fierce woman who is absolutely enough.

I feel like I’ve spent the past twenty years convincing myself that my life was good enough, when all I had to do was root around in the box to look for that last piece of the puzzle. There was a time, when I was willing to settle for mediocrity, for normalcy, for smiles that didn’t reach my soul, but that time has passed and that door has closed.

I shine bright, because I am enough.

Gay Mom’s Club

I am so fortunate to have a woman in my life that regularly feeds my curiosity and  challenges my thought processes. A few months ago, during one of our chats we were talking about my kids and she pointed out that my situation is not all that unique; there are a lot of gay moms in the region.

However, my particular town has a population of less than 2,500 and to my knowledge the local gay mom’s club has a membership of one. Over the past year, as I reflected on my life and sexuality, I put a significant amount of energy into considering how my life choices might affect my sons. At the end of the day, I know that my kids may be subjected to bullying and teasing, because of me (which is a hard pill to swallow) but I also know that there are an infinite number of reason they may get teased in their lifetime, I am only one.

But the potential for positive repercussions is also infinite; my boys will grow up in a home where love is love is love and they will be free to be and to love whomever they choose without fear. My boys will understand that the struggle to be true and authentic to their hearts song is worth every tear that they may shed along the way. And I hope that my boys will know that although their Mom made a decision that shook their lives and changed everything, it gave them a happy mom, which is the best type of mom to have around.

To be honest, its been ages since I’ve given any thought to the potential impacts of my coming out on  my children; long before I was actually ready to accept that I was gay I came to terms with the fact that my world cannot revolve entirely around my boys. But yesterday a friend was commending me for being brave, strong and true to my heart, and she couldn’t help but comment on how difficult my coming out must be, because I’m a mom.

Although I know it wasn’t her intention, I couldn’t help feeling a little put off by the connotation that being a mom somehow made my decision to come out especially difficult. It was one of many things that I pondered, and although my children are my everything I have a hard time trying to justify my struggle being any more important than someone else’s. Coming out is a huge, life altering decision and for me its been a long time coming; not even being a mom could have changed my ultimate destination.

At the end of the day, I believe in my heart, that my boys will be proud to have a mother that was not afraid to walk away from everything that society told her to want in order to live a life full of love and light and happiness. If that makes me the president and membership of my local gay mom’s club, I’ll take it because this is me, and I’m proud to be my kids’ gay mom.

Owning It

Recently, I commented that when I ended my relationship with my ex-husband, he wanted to go to counselling to try and fix things, but I refused. My girlfriend replied simply, you can’t ‘fix’ gay and we both laughed.

But she’s absolutely right, I was square peg trying to fit in a round hole. Trying to make the life I thought I was supposed to want fulfill and satisfy me in a way it never could. But that’s not why I left, there were many facets of my marriage that should have prompted me to leave before I did, and sadly, I’m not sure exploring my sexuality even makes the list.

It’s taken me a long time to accept that I am a lesbian, even though in my heart, I’ve probably always known. I’ve been attracted to women as long as I can remember, I just never stopped to question whether I was truly attracted to men. I’ve come to realize that my willingness to accept a man in my life, was the very thing that was keeping me from accepting that I was gay.

I recently read a blog post that stated your sexual history does not diminish your sexuality and all day long, those words ran through my mind. Until only a few months ago, I had been the one allowing my sexual history to prevent me from moving forward, from being free and most of all, from embracing and celebrating that I am gay.

But now that I’ve accepted it, I’m owning it like nobody’s business. I’m not all rainbows and unicorns, but I’m not hiding either. I put pictures of my girlfriend up at work and when coworkers and acquaintances ask about my weekend, you can bet I mention her too.

I will not be defined by my past (by myself or by anyone else) because I am not that girl anymore; THIS girl is gay and gives exactly zero fucks if you approve.