I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.
Confidence……Sexual confidence
Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.
Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.
Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.
The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?
Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.
With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.
Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.
Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.
I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.
WHY?
I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.
That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.
Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.
The was it.
No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.
Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.
With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.
This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.
Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.
Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.
Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?
The answer…….
CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.
I never did have an eureka moment. That, my god, I think I like girls moment. It always just felt somehow innate, a part of me somehow. A part of me I should always without question hide. As a young adult I thought to myself “ Yes, your gay, but you can never act on it”.
I remember being a very young child. I was looking at a performing arts troupe and I was transfixed at one of the performers. It wasn’t an attraction, I was too young, but I felt like I was in a trance , drawn to her female energy.
And so it was, I knew I was Lesbian but I lived in rural Ireland. The mentality as it was at the time -I believed I could never be openly gay. And honestly I was just scared. Too scared to act , not that even if I was brave that there was any place I could go or people I could talk too. No facility’s , no groups , no gay bars. We didn’t even have internet until I was already an adult. TV barely depicted female or gay relationships of any kind. Any show , any song , books, any films that depicted lesbian relationships I clung too. In secret, I clung to this love I didn’t think would I would ever feel for myself.
I was always a Tomboy , playing with the boys , wanting the boys toys. In adolescence when I was teased with “ Your such a Tomboy “ “ Why don’t you like girlie things ” I began to consider myself somehow wrong. I needed to be more girly to be accepted.
And so as a teenager, I dressed more like a typical girl of my age , faked interest in school boy crushes and ultimately completely lost myself in the process. I was such a outgoing confident child, in my adolescence I found myself quieter, more shy, confused and I felt very much alone. I carried this fear that I would be found out – as if that could be the worst thing that could ever happen. Because at the time, I though it was.
When I was 17 and like some teenage film cliche I fell completely and utterly In love with the German exchange student and we were inseparable for 6 months. She even asked me to kiss her once but I didn’t.
I always suffered from sore throats from childhood into adulthood. One day I was in an angel shop and somehow got talking about this with the lady who ran it. She said to me “ You are not speaking your truth “ and that stuck with me. The sore throats continued for a long time.
I went to college. I remember the day the clubs lined the corridor looking for new member. I waked by the LGBT table, afraid that people would see my eyes dart towards it.
I went out with friends. I kissed boys. I hoped it would one day feel different. That it might click. It never did. I even went on a few dates. Boys even fell for me – hard but I couldn’t explain why I didn’t feel the same.
In Ireland the first question from aunts and uncles mouths are usually “ Any boyfriend !?”
Followed by “Why doesn’t a pretty girl like you not have a boyfriend” It was tiring and I felt embarrassed.
I was 21 when I graduated with an honors degree in law but a superior degree in self denial.
One of my classmates and I went out one night in our final year. That night- she went home with a girl. She came into class the next morning in the clothes we had went out in the night before. Without words she asked me to keep her secret and I did. Finally, someone who might know how I felt someone I could talk too. We went to our first gay bar together and there in the middle of the dance floor for the first time in my life I said “ I’m gay “.
I had kissed girls , friends , straight friends drunk on dance floors, maybe for boys benefit but it wasn’t until the summer after I graduated in 2010 that I kissed the first girl who wanted to kiss me back in an abandoned classroom of the college I had just left. I thought my heart might beat out of my body. She became my first girlfriend and what ensued for the next 2 years was a double life , my ‘ straight acting ‘ life at home and my life with her and my small few gay friends I had gathered. I couldn’t explain to friends /family why I had to keep inexplicable leaving to see this person. I was stressed but in love. In love but oh so naive. She broke my heart and I was crushed. My family wondered why I lost so much weight. Why i seemed so sad.Convinced I had developed some eating disorder. In a moment of heartbreak I told my sister. She was kind but warned me to never tell our Mother.
Through the majority of my 20s i had a few different relationships , but never disclosed that to my parents. They only knew some of me , I had to omit so much of my life , the best parts of my life because it was my love. I left out my happiness. We spoke about surface matters and it became apparent that , that was ok. My father was kind and loving and I never felt it would be an issue but I couldn’t tell one without the other ( I suspect he knew) that my sisters had filled him in. He made efforts to show me he loved me. My mother had once told me “ Never tell me your Gay Anita, don’t ever tell me that . I couldn’t take it” and so I didn’t.
I use to feel uncomfortable at home hoping certain questions wouldn’t come up. I loved my partners , I loved being myself and I could because I didn’t live at home so when I went home a lot of the time I felt repressed , like I was in hiding. Just awaiting a time I could leave and embrace myself again. For a long time I was a stranger to them. I was scared to come out. I honestly thought that my Mother would just preferred for me not to do it. And so that’s what I did for a long time. I came out to friends along the way which explained some things to them. All were kind.
Very slowly my two worlds, my two lives grew together, along with my own growth, my own comfortableness with myself , my self love ignited.
In 2015 Marriage Equality was passed in Ireland and I took to the streets. I saw the glee and the love and I smiled. I attended the Marches and now the celebrations and it had all come full circle. I felt ashamed of the parts of me I still kept hidden away.
In the end I never had that sit down conversation with my parents where I said ‘ I’m gay’- it just naturally transitioned.
Some things I wanted in my life I wrote down on a piece of paper and put it in my wallet, a to do list. The thing I wanted the most was “ a love that even time would lie down and be still for “ I wished for it , every eyelash , every birthday candle blow out. On my list I wrote “ Find a love that makes your heart sing “.
I had loved , experienced great times , great experiences and adventures but always something felt missing.
I have found that love that makes my heart sing , it makes everything sing. My Dad passed away in November 2018 and I’m glad he got to meet her. I know he could tell I was happy. His passing also helped me grow , to solidify that I could never think of hiding that love. When I brought her home , the love was palpable and for the first time any walls that were still up or any withholding between me and my family seems to fall away without words.
I was guilty of being private with my life but we have all let each other in, in a way we never have before and it can only grow from here. Having experience the grief of my Dads death I feel silly for hiding so much of myself from him for so long – a regret of sorts but with every goodbye we learn. I’m happy to be where I am now , happy in my own skin and so very in love with my soul mate. 32 years old and being my authentic self. It took love , grief and growth to get here. The journey is different for everyone. Happy travels.
When I was 12 I met a girl, she eventually became my best friend. We spent a lot of time together. She liked to hold my hand and hug me constantly. I noticed that my feelings for her were getting stronger, suddenly I realized that I wanted to kiss her, that something had changed, that I was jealous if I saw her with a boy, but I refused to accept what was happening to me, how could I like my best friend? It was very hard for me to accept myself, to realize that I liked men, but also women. I was never able to tell my best friend that I was in love with her, I’m still afraid to tell some people who I really am, and it’s killing me.
I don’t remember the first time I figured out I was not straight.
I only remember a series of moments along the way.
I remember playing the Sims on my Dad’s computer and having my Sim adopt a daughter on her own and keep a close female best friend around. She had a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.
I remember being obsessed with some girls in primary and middle schools. Girls who were pretty and intelligent and popular. Girls whose blogs I could recite by heart. Girls I would have on the phone to ask them what colour their bedroom wallpaper was.
I remember being obsessed with Naomi and Emily when I began watching Skins in high school. Watching and rewatching their episodes and never being able to put my finger on what it was that I could relate to.
I remember my second trip to England, being in my exchange partner’s bedroom at night and reading her diary entry about having a crush on a girl.
I remember watching Brittany and Santana in the first seasons of Glee and being confused by their definition of friendship.
I remember noticing girls in my high school. The way they dressed. The way they talked. But I also remember noticing boys in my high school. And having crushes. A lot of them. I remember hugging him in the cafeteria and feeling like my heart would explode out of joy. But I also remember my friend’s voice when she ventured to say that maybe, just maybe, I had crushes on boys that were out of my league so that I would not have to date them for real.
I remember seeing my best friend falling in love with someone else and getting closer to them and my heart would break a little. I remember telling her how I felt. We grew closer and closer every year and we would tell each other that it was only a phase we would grow out of to eventually marry men, have children, and buy houses next to each other.
I remember spending hours and hours writing in my diary: I know I am not straight. But I know I am not gay. What am I? What am I?
I remember watching Faking it and finally being able to relate. Thank you to Dana, Julia and Carter for developing the character of Amy Raudenfeld.
I remember being on a bus to Clifton in Bristol and seeing that girl and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I would not mind dating a girl after the phase with my best friend was over.
I remember being in my bedroom with my best friend. Looking at each other with heart eyes and speaking of spending our lives together. I remember her telling me again that it was all a game. And I remember telling her that I was tired of playing this game and that I deserved better.
I remember creating a profile on a dating app for the first time and being faced with the preference choices. Show me boys. Show me girls. Show me both. I remember the answer being instant : both. What. Oh wait. I’m bi. I’M BI.
I remember going on my first date with this boy a couple of months later. How it felt wrong from the get go, but I couldn’t understand why. We were the exact same age, had a lot of things in common, listened to the same music. He was kind, respectful, good-looking. And yet, all I could think of was “please, don’t kiss me”. After this date, I remember changing my app preference to “show me girls” only.
I remember coming out to my mum on a beautiful afternoon in Spring. We were holding cups of coffee, sitting on my sofa. I was nervous. I chose the words : “I like boys, but I also like girls. I’m bisexual”.
I remember breaking off all ties with my best friend because I realised that I could not be happy living in a world in which she was dating someone else. I remember crying my eyes out for months and wondering how I could be happy living a life she was not a part of.
I remember watching Wynonna Earp because I had been told Waverly was a positive representation of bisexuality and be happy that a relationship could be so natural and uncomplicated. Thank you to Dominique, Kat and Emily for imagining and developing the Wayhaught relationship and giving me hope.
I remember coming out to my dad over lunch on a beautiful summer day and deliberately not using the word bisexual. I chose the words : “I like girls, but I could also end up with a boy”.
I remember my therapist frowning when I would tell her that I liked girls but invariably precise that I didn’t mind boys either. I remember being angry at her for making me question my sexuality. I remember her telling me I could be a lesbian and that it would be just as fine. That day, I left her office and felt as if I had grown wings. But I was not a lesbian : what about all those crushes I had had on boys?
I remember being with a male colleague in my car at night. I had just given him a lift to his apartment. We had spent a lovely evening. Instead of leaving the car right away saying good night, he lingered a little and was looking at me. I knew I had feelings for him. But a voice in my head was also screaming : “please, don’t kiss me”.
I remember her sitting on my sofa. We had met the week before, at a party. I remember my mind going blank when she went for it and held my hand. How when we walked back to her car, the voice in my head was screaming : “please, please, kiss me”.
I remember coming out to my grandparents and telling them about my new girlfriend. My grandmother said : “I knew”.
For a while, I was obsessed with labels. I wanted to embrace my new identity. Be proud and loud. But I constantly outgrow the label I choose. I claim I am bisexual, and then cringe when I have to admit that I can’t quite picture myself dating a boy. I say I can only picture myself loving a girl, and then cringe again when I have to admit that I am developing a crush on a male colleague.
I don’t know if I should identify as a bisexual, pansexual, queer or lesbian woman. I don’t mind people assuming for me, and I don’t correct them when they do. But I no longer use these labels anymore when I come out to a new colleague or a new friend.
The only thing that I know is that, sometimes, I bump into other human beings who are so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heart beat faster and my eyes glow. And I feel lucky to walk this earth and meet these people and love them and lose them and feel alive.
I think I have always known, however, I have kept that part of me locked away and hidden for so long. I thought I had just ‘experimented’ in my youth, but there was no way I could actually be queer. My family was/is very sexually repressive, that made it difficult to be who I have always been. I have also grown up in a regional community, which has made it difficult not having much representation. My best friend in high school has two mums and I seen the toll it took on her navigating the negative discourse that was aimed at her from coming from a queer family. That experience just solidified that I couldn’t be out. So I suppressed that side of me, I did not allow it to show, and I was ashamed that there were girls that i just couldn’t get out of my head. So I went the opposite way, I entered relationships with bad men, the polar opposite of anything remotely queer, and I had a daughter. My daughter is the only thing I don’t regret from living my closeted life. Then as a mature aged student I entered university where I met my fiancé. He is transgender, FTM. He introduced me to a world that I thought was closed to me, we became friends, then lovers, and now family.
Our housemate, his best friend, is also pansexual, and with our little community I feel I finally belong.
I didn’t exactly come out to anyone except him. My family knew him, knew he was transgender, and when we started dating it was as simple as ‘him and I are together now, I will not discuss our sexuality, if you have any concerns about the way he treats me, by all means say something, however if it’s about sexuality, I will not hear it’. The sense of power I have felt from standing up to my family and just being me is something purely wonderful. I still struggle against pre-conceived notions of who I am “meant” to be, of how this world is structured to suppress women like me and my community.
We are getting married at the end of this year, and have only two celebrants to choose from that are allies and will marry us.
However, I refuse to let that get me down.
I am out, without coming out. I am in love with a beautiful, wonderful man. I stand up for what I believe in. I am queer. For once in my life I am simply ME!
I realised that what I was feeling towards girls was attraction when I was 11 but was still convinced that I like guys. When I was twelve I started coming out to my friends as bi. There were all supportive (albeit some more than others) and I continued to identify as bi all through high school even though by my final year I was properly aware that I wasn’t attracted to men. I’m currently in my first at uni and am now out as a lesbian with two great new lesbian friends. Last night I came out to my dad who was super chill about it and I plan to come out to the rest of my family within the next two weeks. I’ve been out to everyone except family since I started high school but didn’t realise until I made gay friends that were out to everyone everyone that I realised that I was still restricted somehow. Even if it is just one family member, being out to my dad has let me breathe a little better. Being out really is freeing and I’ve never felt better.
Out really is the new in xx
