It’s 3 AM Again

Had another crisis of faith the other day.  Coming out to myself is harder than it seemed.  It terrifies me to think that I might just be tricking myself. What if I wake up one day to realize that I’m not really a lesbian, and instead I’m . . what?  A girl who can’t have a steady relationship?  Asexual?  Nothing at all?

And what is this strange desire within me, that wakes me up from my nap, crying, picturing myself as a man and wanting that?  But I don’t want to change my body.  I like this one.  It’s the one I’ve always had.  Changing it feels like something so completely unalterable, a death of this first self.

Death is alien.  I only want to do it once.

But damn, women are beautiful.  Curves and long hair and sweet smiles and cuteness and sometimes with those exquisite hard edges that make my breath catch, and I want it.  I want kisses and cuddles, to hold and be held, passionate love that swells within me until it has to spill over somewhere.

But sex?

Masturbation’s fine, thanks.

With boys, sex was something that went along with relationships.  I allow it to happen at specific and appropriate times, so as to not appear a slut and yet not appear a prude.

Sex with women, though, who knows what that could be.  Maybe it’ll be beautiful and fulfilling, like it is in the movies.  Or maybe it’ll be awkward and endearing.  Maybe I won’t feel like I’m doing it wrong all the time.  Isn’t sex supposed to make you feel connected to someone, like you’ve shared something sacred and intimate?

I’ve never felt like that, and it makes me feel like I’m not normal.

I want homosexuality to solve my problems, and I’m scared it won’t.

They laugh at me when I say I’m scared I’ll never find love, and I guess it is silly, but I’m dead serious.

You know what, though?  For the first time in years, I’m thinking about something other than how great the past was.  And for the first time in my life, my future holds more than the monochrome tones of housewife or career woman.  I can have so many futures.  There’s no role to fill, no position to take, no attitude to assume, no correct style, no right way.  I get to choose.

I can be anything.

Who knew asking one tiny question about my sexuality could change so much about how I see my life?

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~ by followingsherlockholmes on November 28, 2012.

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