well that bit me in the ass

i kinda cheated on writing last week.

i posted a small little post in the middle of the afternoon on a thursday and only found out before starting this post that the html was completely messed up so it was not readable.

so i met my goal of one post a week...but did i really?



truth time:

i know just enough about social media to know how to fly a little below the radar. i've been on twitter long enough to know when no one is reading. i know just enough to know how to hide posts in feeds or make things less visible.

i may or may not intentionally bury posts at times when they feel particularly vulnerable.

sometimes when you shout into the great void you hope for an echo.

sometimes you just want to shout.

that post was one i wanted to hide.

but what's the point of writing and trying to be honest if you're still trying to hide?

that post covered how i'm bisexual: tl/dr women are amazing.

since then, i've been struggling with coming to terms with the shift in perspective which has really surprised me.

and i've struggled with wanting to talk about it more, but i don't want to be the lulu lemon lesbian.

LOOK AT THIS AMAZING NEW THING I FOUND!! NO, NO, JUST TRY IT ONCE, YOU'LL NEVER GO BACK. YOU'LL LOVE IT. YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU EVER GOT ALONG WITHOUT IT!!

JOIN TODAY AND GET A CUSTOM HYDROFLASK AND A SEPHORA COUPON.

i didn't want to annoy or over saturate or turn into this overzealous proselytizing cliche.

but the thing is, cliches are cliches for a reason.

and, i mean, IT'S A BIG FUCKING DEAL. i feel like so many things make so much more sense. i feel like i've finally figured out why things have just NEVER worked for so many years, no matter what i tried. all the brick walls and dead ends.

after 40 years of existing i feel like i'm finally figuring myself out.

THAT'S A HUGE DEAL YA'LL. i want to talk about it.

after 20+ years of struggling with dating. trying to find a partner. getting so frustrated and hurt and defeated. giving up how many times because i just couldn't find what i was looking for. not even close.

WELL DUH YOU DUMB ASS. you were looking the wrong direction the whole time.

and, to be fair,

i didn't even have half of it figured out for a LONG time.

then after i figured out half of it, i still hid for so many years. i like guys. always have, always will. there were even some guys i REALLY REALLY liked. and some were great experiences. but it was never RIGHT. none of them ever worked out more than a few weeks. none of them ever...well. it just didn't work.

but sticking closet to the straight side was MUCH easier than figuring out that other half.

i keep saying half because i've joked for years about being a 50/50 split bi. equal opportunity.

that's how it looks in my head. and i feel like maybe that stems from the conversation/questions you hear about bi-sexuals about if they're REALLY bi when they're in whatever form of a partnership. like there's this constant pressure to prove that you REALLY ARE BOTH ALL THE TIME. it's part of bi-erasure. if you date a man, women were just an experimental phase. if you date a woman, previous relationships with men were just a stopover on the way to gaytown.

and i really let this get in my head and fuck it up for a few days.

it was like finding a stronger preference in myself for women made me want to just dig my claws into I STILL LIKE MEN.

but...

A) i know better.

how many times have i said sexuality is a fluid thing? an ever moving target? a sliding scale?

i was always reassuring friends without listening to myself.

huh. funny how thoughts just come out sometimes.

without listening to myself.

and the focus of this year is to LISTEN.

and now that i'm listening to myself...

funny how that works isn't it?

but also,

B) WHO THE FUCK CARES?

so what if it does turn out the first 40 years of my life were just a layover?

sometimes it takes 40 years of wandering around, maybe a talking burning bush* to get some clarity and get you where you need to be.

*LISTEN. i'm not saying moses was stoned as fuck when that "burning bush" talked to him...i'm just saying afghani kush is some good shit. (ps: a drunk history of moses exists and it's amazing)


but again, WHO CARES?

and this is where it gets mushy.

i am finally, for the first time, at the point in my life where i can say this:

all the people that matter most to me, ALL of them.

it doesn't matter to them.

they truly accept me for who i am.

i have built a circle. i have found my people. i have surrounded myself with GOOD people. i have made my life, my home, my job, good. SAFE.

i have made a space for myself to BE myself.

which, by logic, means now i have to go DO that.

shit.

one piece at a time

last night i was working through a few things and had a BIG realization. you know that feeling when a core piece of you just BOOM. locks into place? just *KA CHUNK* feeling and you finally, finally know for sure. without a doubt, the answer to a question you didn’t know you asked.

well, i did ask.

 i know i very specifically asked. i've got to own it.

i asked a the universe a question and got an answer.

in the last week i’ve gone from “am i gay enough” to have a long term relationship with a woman? to reaffirming not only YES, i am, but then being hit by realizing:

OH. yeah. duh. my life partner(s) will be a woman. got it.

*KA CHUNK*

so what does that mean to me?

why did that take so long to figure out?

here's where the words come in.

it’s time for me to find some new words.

bisexual is a weird word when you think about who you are as an entire person. it reduces the whole experience to sex. and it’s a very “straight” word or at least always has been to me.

because i didn’t realize liking men AND women was even a thing for so long, all my default programming is heterosexual. all of it. being bi-sexual meant an assumption that my MAIN relationship would be a man. of course. but the SEX part could be with either. because it’s bi-SEXUAL, not bi-relationshipual. bi-partnershipual?

but the more i’m learning about myself, i’m realizing that is NOT my actual programming. turns out my REAL default setting is a main relationship with a woman and the sex part could be with either.

what’s the word for that? oh, it’s still bisexual? cool. glad we cleared that up.

but my life partner (s?) will be a woman. i know this now. that has become CRYSTAL CLEAR in the last week. so many things make so much more sense now.

so then i decided to try to list all the amazing attributes of all the women i admire, the things i would like to set as intentions for my life partner. the list kept growing and growing and growing and i suddenly realized that i am SURROUNDED by amazing women with innumerable amazing qualities. and that’s, just...wow.

WOMEN ARE AMAZING.

that is all.

let's talk about sex

ya'll ready for a great big secret?

i have sex.

WHAT??

i know.

double down:

sometimes that sex is with boys.

sometimes that sex is with girls.

MOST of that sex is single player mode.

thank heavens for rechargable batteries.

now that ya'll are shooketh to your very core, time to hit the rewind.

i grew up in an incredibly conservative evangelical house. INCREDIBLY conservative.

i was at church every sunday morning, sunday night, wednesday night. my whole life was about pleasing jesus, being a good girl, staying out of trouble, doing what i was *supposed* to do. when i got in trouble about friends (or lack thereof) my mom's solution was to write out all the bible verses about friendship. when i was in regular trouble it was about disappointing jesus. all the books i read were christian books- i devoured the entire Mandy series impatiently waiting for every new book. i read all the jeanette oak books over and over and over again. want to know where some of my most twisted relationship expectations come from? read through a few of the "when calls the heart" series. 

some of my FAVORITE, ALL TIME FAVORITE books to this day are written by francine rivers. i've learned to skip some of the heavier christian parts but there's this incredible three part series about a germanic man being forced to fight for his life in the arena and how be becomes friends with a household servant that survived being thrown to the lions for being a christian. the writing is amazing. the story is amazing. but holy heavens (pun intended) the entire series is written solely around being a christian saves your life.

this is all a long way to say i was a "good girl" growing up. i took the purity pledge. i was all aboard the no sex til marriage train.

i didn't particularly date in high school. there were a few actual dates and very few actual boyfriends. mostly i was known as a frigid bitch and there was an ongoing bet around the school of who would be able to shag me first (the guys weren't shy about letting me know this).

there was one guy i had a MASSIVE crush on- he was my first kiss, my first french kiss, and the guy i snuck into the light/sound booth in the theater more than a few times with for massive make out sessions. but i would have never been allowed to date him. he was raised by a single mom, they lived on the "other side of town," and most importantly, he didn't go to church. yes. these are things that were real issues to my mom. he passed away a few years after high school and it broke my heart. he was unfailingly kind, even when he wasn't. he was the one that let me know about the running bet. he was one of the ONLY ones that still talked to me after i got pregnant. he even made me laugh a few times asking if we could have sex while i was pregnant since the damage was already done. he was the only one to ever tell me i was beautiful while i was pregnant.

side note: i heard the way my mama, a proper christian lady, talked about his mama, a single mom of two boys who *gasp* dated.

more than few of my mothers nasty judgements of his mom stuck with me over the years. i was a single mama of two boys who *gasp* dated.

to this day i am still heartbroken for that gal and they way too many stuck up assholes in that town treated her. she lost both of her boys just a few years out of high school. all those years of working so hard to raise them, putting up with the shitty people in our small town just to lose them both. wherever she is i hope with every fiber of my being the universe has been kind to her the last 18 years.

ANYWAY.

i lost my virginity my sophomore year of high school. there was a guy i had a crush on and i found out he was moving away. i offered to have sex with him before he moved, he said ok, lay down. i did, he stuck it in, i said "ow, that hurts," he got up and walked away and i never saw him again. just enough to leave a stain on the floor of the electronics classroom. good times.

the first time i had sex my senior year i got pregnant. good times.

i had a few partners in college and then had my first orgasm with my second sons father. yes, that's right, my first orgasm happened with my 10th partner when i already had a 5 year old child. now you know 50% of the reason i got married. the other 50% was that 9/11 had just happened, the world was ending, and this guy didn't care that i already had a kid. spoiler alert: one orgasm and a world war is NOT a good reason to get married.

when i was married he used to shame me non-stop about sex. that i masturbated. that i had been with other partners. it went on and on. if i was "good" at something it was a reason for suspicion. if i was "bad" at something it was, to him, a validation for having 2 mistresses.

after my divorce, around the age of 24 i bought my first vibrator.

shortly thereafter i started watching porn and figuring out my sexuality.

yes, after 2 kids, a marriage and a divorce, THEN i started figuring out my sexuality.

i honestly didn't know there was anything TO figure out.

of course i wasn't gay.

gay was only for boys and if you were gay you got AIDS and died. the 80's and 90's were rife with AIDS misinformation and fear. toilet seats! sneezes! Ryan White! 

there was one lesbian in town growing up. she was the volleyball coach at the high school. i had no idea what being a lesbian meant unless it was raising huskies, coaching volleyball, and having to keep paper over the windows in her office AND keep the blinds closed, AT ALL TIMES.

i had never heard the word "bisexual."

i knew that i liked boys. it's one or the other, right? that bisexual thing is just a stop over on your way to gay, and as already covered, i of course couldn't be gay.

sometime around 27 i started to notice that i really, really do not like straight porn. it's the same three things: a LOT of oral sex for the guy, a TINY bit of oral sex for the girl, penis in vagina sex for three of 4 different positions, and scene.

it's boring. it's not pleasant to watch.

but then there was girl on girl porn...

HEY NOW.

well then. this is something different.

and then it slowly dawned on me...you know, you REALLY like girl on girl porn...what if it's because...you like girls?

BUT I LIKE GUYS!

sure...but what if you ALSO like girls?

back then, 2007ish, there weren't a lot of dating options besides match.com and there were FOR SURE no dating options if you wanted to date a lady.

so i turned to the only other place: craigslist.

yuuuuuuup.

i arranged my first lady date on craigslist.

we met for dinner at chilis, went to a bar for drinks and somehow ended up in a threesome with one of my coworkers. the next day she said "well, that was an experience," and we never went out again. she realized she was completely and fully straight, i realized i was completely and fully bi.

i never had a big coming out to my family or friends. there was no magical TADA moment or big crying tearful confession over a holiday dinner.

in retrospect i may have slightly been a MASSIVE asshole about how i let my family know.

with my mom it was a particularly painful moment in her therapy session when i asked her: sure, you SAY you love and support me, but how many bi-sexual, tattooed, single moms do you associate with outside being FORCED to with your own daughter?

oof.

with my brother, he called one year while i was working at a booth at pride.

bro: don't you have to be one of "those letters" to go to pride?

me: well, you know there's such a thing as ALLIES, but yes, i am one of those letters. B is one of those letters. always has been.

bro: what?

me: what?

bro: like...

me: oh, did you not know i'm bi? hey, by the bye, i'm bi.

so. you know. maybe fair enough that he still refers to me as "one of those letters."

i didn't go out with another woman for YEARS after that. i had a few partners, had one gal i was really into but it was a complicated situation. but mostly i just...well..didn't.

i was never quiet about it with my kids. the topic came up several times. i have friends all across the rainbow family. my boys both at different times questioned their own sexuality and we worked through it together. my oldest took a boy to a school dance and kissed him and realized he is fully, fully straight. my youngest was picked on for wearing bow ties to school for almost a fully year and tearfully questioned if he was gay because everyone kept telling him he was.

now they're both openly, vocally, painfully completely homophobic. 

i saw this developing in them. i heard the jokes, the slurs, the insults. i knew they were hearing things at youth group. my youngest came home one day and told me his youth pastor told him he was being raised in a dangerous, abusive household because i have tattoos and i'm bisexual.

so i just shut that side down for a long time.

i liked guys. so, you know, i would just...avoid all the rest.

i didn't want to expose anyone else to my kids. i didn't want anyone else to have to hear the horrible jokes and terrible accusations and painful insults.

i raised my kids in an open, loving, non-judgmental household. they still chose hate.

here's a spoiler alert for anyone wondering: avoiding a part of yourself doesn't make it go away.

i struggled with it over the years. it made me so angry at times that i had to hide. from my own kids.

but i did. i thought it was best for them. i thought it was safer for me.

but now that's all changed.

several things have changed: first, i'm done answering to other people. if you don't like my sexuality? DON'T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

easy enough.

not sure how who i'm attracted to has any bearing on anyone else besides the person i might be attracted to.

and if they don't like my sexuality, well, i'll say it again: DON'T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

so. NOW we're getting to the point.

that's right suckers. i'm *JUST NOW* getting to the point of this week.

this week...this week.

THIS. WEEK. Y'ALL.

you think i'd be used to getting my psychological ass handed to me by now. all the work and therapy and whatnot i've been doing.

but here we are.

this week i had a lady date.

we met for pizza. we talked. it was a good time.

i did my usual first date panic, talked WAY too much.

i didn't put too much stock in it. how many first dates have i been on after all?

besides...she lives in another town, my car is for sale...just...it was just another first date.

but then the week took a turn. because of course it did.

talk about burying the lede...i don't have to sell my car right now.

i found out friday afternoon that the child support order is *only* for back support that happened while the order was going through the hearing process. that's it. because my son moved out of state and doesn't live with the grandparents now, the support order for them isn't valid. i'm sure there will be another one coming soon, but, for now, i have a small stay of execution. i have a few more months to figure things out and get things sorted financially.

i get to keep my car (for now).

and...if i get to keep my car for now...that means the possibility of dating someone in another town IS a possibility.

and holy shit.

commence full on panic.

what if i'm not bi enough to BE BI.

what if i'm not gay enough to date a lady full time? 

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

like, 3 weeks in i'll change my mind and be like, NOPE. NEVER MIND.

girl, YOU LIKE GIRLS. you know this.

funny thing, i've never worried about not being straight enough to date a fella.

and, let's be real, this is ME. not like i'm exactly aces at dating ANYONE.

BUT. the point. i swear i'm getting to the point.

the point is it's a possibility.

it's a real chance for me to BE ME. i've hidden all these years because it was the easier choice. 

now i get the chance to just...LIVE.

and it feels like this week shifted everything.

i've struggled with this project so far. i've struggled with how sad it felt. how much of a STRUGGLE it felt. like it was just rehashing terrible things and sad experiences. and i kept trying to change the focus. i kept trying to frame it as an opportunity. i kept trying to frame it as an adventure. i wanted to post the positive opportunities. i wanted to find the silver lining to what was feeling like a year of trying to just survive.

and this week it shifted to #thrive.

i don't have to sell my car. i have a little breathing room. i have a focus. i have a path. i have a plan.

i can work on BECOMING myself.

i was geared up and ready for battle. i was ready to SURVIVE. i was on the island. i had an ice skate ready for any medical emergencies and a volleyball to keep me company. I WAS GOING TO GRIND IT OUT.

and i feel like...i'm a firm believer that if you shut up and listen you can hear the universe talking to you.

in my case it spent this weekend SCREAMING at me.

i select a random playlist and it's one song after another just hammering the point home.

i go out and meet new people and the conversation ends up smacking me upside the head.

i stay home and do my chores and meditate and do my writing and and all the little pieces of my apartment that i've selected and picked and carefully arranged, they take a moment to stand out and remind me of why i picked them and brought them home.

i'm a little slow that way sometimes. i do things because they're important to me. i get specific tattoos. i buy specific books. i make a specific letterboard. and then they just become a part of things. and sometimes you forget they're even there. and then, when you need them, they talk to you. they gently remind you of things you already know.

i made a sign a year ago when i moved in. i haven't changed it. it's been there. i look at it, but i haven't LOOKED at it in a while:

i didn't say survive.


i said THRIVE.

and i feel that now.

i'm not in survival mode. this project has shifted things. life has shifted things. i'm still doing what i need to do. this isn't a get out of jail free moment. this is a stay of execution while the judge reviews the case.

i'm still writing. i'm still focusing on my budget. i'm still focusing on walking to work. i'm still focusing on making healthy life choices. doing the things i need to do for my mental health. i'm still focused on appreciating each week and each moment this year.

even if they decide to blindside me and flip the script out of no where.

i'm not just going to survive this year. i'm going to THRIVE. i'm going to become ME. i'm going to start doing the things that scare me. i'm going to start TRYING. there's no reason to hide anymore. there's no reason to let other people dictate who i am. there's no reason to let fear of how one person might respond keep me from trying something new.

i'm not just going to survive this year.

I'M GOING TO THRIVE.

are you still one of those letters?

a few years ago i volunteered at a booth for pride.

my brother called for one of his quarterly check ins and the conversation went something like this:

bro: you're at pride? but don't you have to be one of THOSE LETTERS to go to pride?

me: THOSE LETTERS? like LGBTQIA? no. you don't have to be one of THOSE LETTERS to show your support for the community. i mean, i am. there's a b in there. B is one of "those letters," but no, you don't have to be one of those letters.

bro: what do you mean you are one of those letter?

me: i'm bi. you didn't know that? oh. huh. by the by, i'm bi.

bro: *silence*

that's about as close as i've ever come to having a "coming out" conversation with my family. 

my brother still calls to check in. he still asks "...are you still one of those letters?" every time we talk.

he's not an asshole. he's just...my brother. he's not intentionally terrible.

in his own way he's trying.

he used to always end conversations by saying "...and remember to stay away from men. all men are evil. if you think one isn't, he's lying."

at least now he's adapted to say "...and remember, stay away from men AND women..."

change.

it's still horrible. it's probably funny to him. to me it's reinforcing that i don't deserve a happy, healthy partnership, WITH ANYONE. but. i mean. it's my brother. he thinks my tattoos and colored hair are me being rebellious. he still can't understand why i quit my stable corporate job eight years ago. he really just doesn't understand anything about me. at all.

to be fair, (to be fair) it took me a really long time to understand me. honestly, i'm still working on it.

i mean hell, it took me damn on 27 years to know i was bi.

gay didn't exist in the town i grew up in. it REALLY didn't exist in the church i grew up in. 

gay was this horrible thing you heard about on the news that killed people with aids that you got from sitting on a public toilet seat. and something about a quilt on the white house lawn.

that's the extent of what "gay" was for the formative years of my existence.

i was married and divorced and 2 kids in before i realize....you know...i only watch girl on girl porn...hmmmm...maybe there's something to that...

i was well into life before i really understood that i'm equally attracted to people of both sexes.

i'm still not even quite sure bi is the right letter for me. i'm more about people i can get along with and have brilliant stimulating connective conversations with more than who has which parts that go where.

but whatever i am, it's been a process to even be ok talking about it.

for the people that still believe you can choose your sexual orientation: HI. HAVE YOU MET ME?

if being gay were a choice? lord love a duck i would have permanently switched teams years ago. spoiler alert: it wasn't a woman that raped me either time. it wasn't a woman that sexually assaulted me. it wasn't a woman grabbing my breasts at work every time they walked by my desk. i wasn't in an abusive marriage with a woman. i have, to this day, never been called a fat fucking cunt by another woman.

on the flip side, how much easier would my life be if i was totally straight? if my kid had never come home telling me he was being raised in a dangerous household because of my sexuality (yes, his youth group really told him that, just a few years ago).

if i was straight i wouldn't have to worry about all the shame stuff in my head for being interested in women. if i was straight i wouldn't have to worry about dating a woman and being attacked for walking down the street together. if i was straight maybe i would be a little less offended by the blatant gay bashing i listen to on the reg because i'm "passable" (nope. i would still be offended as fuck. knock it off ya'll).

what is passable? passable means if you don't know me, you don't know i'm gay.

i have kids. i talk about going on dates with men. i LOOK straight (whatever that means).

i'm passable as straight.

but, obviously, because i popped out a few crib midgets back in the day, LET THE GAY BASHING COMMENCE.

how about we just don't gay bash ANYONE, whether or not we know if they're straight or not.

i'm too gay to be straight and too straight to be gay.

i don't even really belong anywhere. trust: if sexuality was a choice? i sure as fuck wouldn't choose this grey murky ground of barely existing.

if a lesbian finds out i'm bi, they don't want to date me because men are icky.

if a guy finds out i'm bi he thinks he won the golden ticket to endless threesomes from now til the end of time.

don't forget the whole camp of people who think i'm just confused or denying that i'm strictly one or the other.

the last few years i've allowed myself to "be a little gay" outwardly. i talk more about when i go out with women as well as when i go out with men. i have visible pride apparel (thank you popsocket pride edition!), my house is full of rainbows, i have "gay clothes" i wear (my "switch hitter" shirt makes me giggle when people read it and maybe figure it out). for fucks sake, i have a full body rainbow onesie. kinda hard to miss that when i wear it.


this year? i'm just allowing myself to BE.

whatever that means.

if you can't be associated with me anymore? there's the door.

if you accept me "in spite of" who i am? there's the fucking door.

if you accept me. FULL STOP.

hi. welcome to my life.

my wish for everyone this year: may you know who you are early and be proud of it and confident in it, whomever you are. no wasted years.

if your family doesn't understand? find a new one. trust: there's people out there that will accept you. JUST AS YOU ARE.

if you're confused? if it takes you a while to dial it in? hi. i'm almost 40 and still figuring this shit out.

this year: may you find yourself. may you find acceptance. may you find  confidence and peace and joy in living a real authentic life. whatever that looks like to you.

may you have PRIDE in yourself and who you are.

happy one of those letter months ya'll.

becoming

you can read this as is, but if you take an hour, go watch Nanette, the special by Hannah Gadsby on Netflix, you will have a broader understanding of what i'm struggling and flailing to say here. i've watched Nanette 3 times already and she says things so beautifully, so powerfully, so clearly and concisely. it has truly impacted me in a way i can't explain. i have never, ever, ever before connected so deeply, so profoundly to someone else's story. I've never seen myself in someone else so completely. her raw honestly revealed and unlocked ALL of what follows for me.

no wonder i hate myself so much. i grew up not even knowing gay people existed. there were NO gay people in my home town, so OF COURSE i couldn’t even begin to think that _i_ could be one of “those people.” but i knew enough to know i was glad i wasn't one of "those people." i grew up in church that didn’t even address “those people” because “those people” didn’t exist.

which is worse? invisibility or non-existence?

BUT if “those people” DID exist, they would be gross and wrong and we shouldn’t like them or be friends with them. they all have aids, they’re all loud, flamboyant, flaming, fishnet shirt wearing freaks. you shouldn’t like them. that’s just not something you actually DO. they’re weird. people don’t like weird people.

“don’t be gay” was both a slur and a command. 

but i AM one of those people. and i grew up not HATING a part of myself, but not even having a clue that i was missing an entire half of me. i still really don’t know what that half of me is, but i know it’s there.

but it was ok, because i could pass as straight. i do like men. so i can just ignore all these bad gay thoughts and only pay attention to these good straight thoughts. you get really good at compartmentalizing. picking and choosing what to feel and when. for survival. for *some* acceptance. so we just won’t acknowledge this whole half. it’s fine. look. just tuck those feelings away. and a few of these. and ALL of those. you get really, really good at it. but living with the very real and tangible fear of what would happen if anyone knew about those thoughts...it makes you almost...i dont know...dysfunctional. unable to form ANY kind of bond.

or relationship.

on either side.

because how bad is hearing all those things for YEARS and just holding it inside feeling it about myself, NEVER able to speak up. never being able to say: STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT. 

and to be completely honest, i’m still awkward around gay people. BECAUSE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT HALF OF MYSELF IS. i do like women. 100% without question. i am incredibly, powerfully, attracted to women. not for attention. not as a party favor. but as beautiful, powerful, sexy, intelligent, amazing human beings. but all i know about BEING that half of myself is hate and to fear and those feelings. i shouldn’t have them. they shouldn't exist because they’re bad.

and because i can pass as straight, i don’t know what it’s like to feel the full weight of being gay. to feel the judgement ALL THE TIME. i’ve been able to “choose” to keep half of myself hidden.  i am still attracted to men. so when im attracted to a woman, i just ignore that bit and wait for another man to circle around. i’ll just wait and keep the women part to myself. i’ve “had an out” this whole time. but i do still feel the judgement, because i can’t just stop being gay. i can hide that part. but that doesnt make it any less real.

here’s the bitch of it though. i’m not just compartmentalizing, i really am scared to “be gay.”

i see so much anger and hate still. i know so. many. people. who are not accepting.

i know so few who are.

the teeter totter is off balance. 

i grew up just aware enough of “gay” to know it was two things: aids and death. thats it. thats “gay” in its entirety. not people. not lives. not relationships and culture. it’s AIDS and DEATH.  that’s fucking terrifying.

everything i know about “gay” is hardship. and i have plenty of that already thanks to some stellar life choices that were *actual* choices. for people who still think gay is a choice- do you think i’ve spent my life CHOOSING the be afraid of half of myself? scared to death (possibly literally) that someone might find out? so if i can compartmentalize that section and keep SOME scary stuff away? i can’t compartmentalize kids. or tragedy. trust me, i’ve tried. those fuckers are slightly more demanding. but this “half gay” part...yeah. just shove that aside and ignore it. it’s just trouble anyway. so what’s a little misery and feeling broken? it will be fine. suck it up. there’s other things going on. just raise your kids and go to work. 

so i just tried to learn how to blend in. my whole life is about trying to blend in. and people talked around me. as i grew up and became an adult, i HEARD all the hate and all the things i was TERRIFIED of. i heard the judgement and the venom and the dehumanization. i heard the jokes and the slurs and the denial of basic human rights.

but they weren’t directed AT me. they never have been. because no one knew i’m “one of those." i just ended up having an unintentional extra seat to the shit show. and all i had to do is keep my mouth shut. just blend in. just keep “being straight”. i look straight. i have kids. i was married to a man. i talk about dating men (while i dream about dating women). they don’t know theyre talking about me because i’ve learned to blend in so well. and besides, it’s not really even me because i can “turn it off” half the time.

and i hear it, all the time. and i can see how terrible the world is to people and i’m a fucking shallow selfish bitch. i KNOW all the terrible things people think and say about “those people.” i’ve heard the things people say when “one of those” isn’t around. the things coward are too scared to say TO THE FACE of the person they’re slandering. but they WERE saying it TO MY FACE. they just didn’t know. they say ALL the things when the person they’re talking to isn’t around. you know how the room goes quiet when someone walks in because assholes suddenly lose their nerve? THAT’S THE STUFF I HEAR. and i am terrified i’m not strong enough to tolerate it for real. i would rather live in perpetual fear and loathing of myself and hearing those things in the background than learn to love and accept and stand up for myself. come back to that later and try to unpack that. oy. 

instead i’ve learned to hate half of myself ALL of the time AND pretend it doesn’t exist. and somehow make myself think that’s fine.

so i live with my fear of half of myself because i was raised to hate half of myself. not even hate really. just always thought of it as “wrong” or “against nature”.  you didn’t have to hate it if just didn’t exist. and, mostly, it still doesn’t exist. i've never dated a woman or had a long term relationship with a woman.

to be fair though, i haven’t really had any relationships with men either though. it’s hard to let people like you when you’re programmed to hate your self for reasons you are *JUST NOW* starting to figure out.

but that fear, that hiding has kept me totally away from the community. i don’t know what it’s like to “be gay.” i've only ever been around a few gay people in my entire life, individually. and events like pride where all the gay people are being gay and letting all their gay out in public is SO overwhelming to me. i'm a quiet gay. i don’t know how to be a part of it. i don’t know how to be a proper gay. 

and then, just for fun, add a little guilt. guilt for giving into the fear. guilt for being able to hide. guilt for actually hiding. because that gets to be a thing too.

and then, ON TOP OF THAT, oh, by the bi, being bi isn’t really a thing. being bi “don’t exist,” i’m “just confused.”  you can’t REALLY like both. which one do you like MORE?

YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE A SIDE.

again. which is worse? being invisible or not existing?

and i just want to yell at everyone: maybe it’s not about a “which” ITS ABOUT A WHO. people are more than the parts that go out or in. 

but i am, fully, completely bi-sexual. it does exist. it is a REAL thing. i really, truly do, EQUALLY like both sides.

but i even in that, i know i have it so easy. i only have to hate half of myself. “real” gay people don’t have a “choice” i can “choose” to be gay or straight.

that’s really how i think of being bi. i can compartmentalize it and “be straight”

but here’s the thing, even when i’m “being straight” it doesn’t mean i’m suddenly “not gay.”

just because it’s baseball season doesn’t mean you’re not looking forward to football season. you don’t have to stop liking one just because it isn’t happening right now. 

being bi doesn’t mean you’re “straight” half the time, it means all the time you get to listen to people shame half of who you are TO YOUR FACE because “they didn’t know” you ARE what they’re talking about. that part doesn’t just go into hibernation when you’re “being straight." it means you find out, up front, that some people are only, ever, half ok with who you are. at most. makes so many more relationships fake from the beginning. being friends is contingent on you “staying straight” and staying acceptable. you know that if you ever allow “that part” of you out, you lose half the people, instantly. you’ve already heard their judgement and their opinions. and that’s fucking terrifying to hear and to carry around. all. the. time. constantly worried that if people realize you “tricked them” what’s waiting on the other side.

and then you add in that even in the realm of gay, bi-sexual still isn’t quite  accepted.

i’ve searched my whole life for a place to belong.

i’m too straight to be proper gay.

and i’m too gay to be proper straight.

i love country music and books. you can’t be queer and love country music. you’re supposed to love pop music and dance parties, not staying home and reading. i’m not into glitter and wine. sure brunch is good, but have you ever had a good steak and bourbon late at night?  i wear jeans but not flannel. i wear cowboy boots, but not doc martens. i’m too femme to be butch, but too butch to be femme.

i’m not the “right kind” of gay, even if i could accept myself for being gay.

it’s bad enough that i can’t even accept myself, now BOTH SIDES can’t accept me.

but i am good for a party trick. you know, for the girl who wants to give her boyfriend a special birthday present.

for the couple who wants to “keep things fresh” in the bedroom.

because that’s a super special feeling. being a side show piece. someone for fun, not someone for real.

i just want a place to belong. i want to belong WITH MYSELF. and i want to belong with others.

and i’ve learned to hide that. #singleasfuck has become a joke. if i can laugh at it then maybe it won’t hurt so bad admitting i can’t find someone who accepts me. STARTING WITH MYSELF.

you think being single is lonely? try hating the only person you spend time with.

so. here i am. recognizing this MASSIVE truth about myself. and now the world around me seems so open but so raw at the same time. and i don’t know where to go from here.

what in my life is real? what in my home is real? what are parts i’ve constructed to hide or try to blend in?

do i need to “gay up” my house now? do i need to start finding a way to “be more gay?”

what do i need to do to start really embracing and living that half of me?

maybe recognize that she’s quietly been there, all along, patiently waiting to be recognized?

it’s not an accident that in my own house, where i picked all the things, that all my artwork is of females. mermaids. tiki girls. portraits. all feminine. because that’s what i’m attracted to.

my neon rainbow. it’s not an accident that i bought that on impulse at target. it’s not an accident that it’s the first light i turn on in my living room every evening and the last light i turn off.

there’s a reason my country music is brandy clark, kacey musgraves, marren morris, jennifer nettles. women stronger and bolder than i am about using their voice.

there’s a reason all my favorite authors are women. joshilyn jackson. kate furnival. sara gruen. jk rowling. women who have learned to use their gifts and talents and not be afraid to make their stories be heard.

i am in awe of the women who know their own worth and fight for equality. the emma watson, kerry washington, gal gadot, rose mcgowan women out there standing up saying THIS ISN’T RIGHT and making the change happen. 

it goes beyond sexuality. some of those women are gay or bi. most of them aren’t. but i am so attracted to women because of who they can become. because of their strength. because of their fight and determination.

but i also still. love. men. i adore male partners and friends who bring a different perspective to my life. a different experience. a different set of expectations. men have taught me to be tough, thick skinned, resourceful. i appreciate the traditional sense of belonging they represent. i appreciate the order and construct they provide. i’m very attracted to masculinity, in the calm way. in their acceptance of the traditional role as provider and protector. NOT in the controller and testosterone soaked way. i have no use for big trucks and little egos and people who use fear to manipulate. 

my personality is very ordered and structured and traditional. logic and reason. doing things the proper way. making the proper choices. i long for a partner, male or female, that can help me have a structured, logical, loving, accepting life.

but i guess to look for that in a partner, i need to start looking for that in myself first.