I started this as an experiment. One that has turned into one of the most enlightening experiences of my entire life. In 12 months I went on dates with 34 different men. About a third had a second date, far less had 3 and only 3 men made their way into my skin. Each of these three men were a totally different experience, each I cared for deeply, even loved. In the end, I learned that love is a multi faceted emotion, one that takes on many different shapes and faces. And sometimes, the one you think is the distraction, the temporary amusement, well, sometimes he turns out to be the main event.
I spent 12 years as an identified Lesbian. I was active in the GLBT community, an interim board member at a GLBT non profit, hell, I even grand marshalled a pride parade one year. From Dyke Marches to production of events supporting women, women's masked wrestling to dive gym boxing, I was femme but I was fierce. I was gay.
Sexuality had always been an odd thing for me. As a young adult I dated and slept with boys, because that is what you do. I never had boy friends though. One technical one, I think. The others, they were friends that I happened to sleep with occassionally. I never felt a romantic swoon for any boys I met, other than the boys I knew in bands, but I would realize later that it was just awe and appreciation, not love and lust, that I was feeling.
At 17, a girl friend decided that our friendship wasn't shaping up the way she hoped. She grew jealous of my connections with other women and even though our relationship was platonic and we had discussed bisexuality and I admitted that I had never been attracted to women, she chose to call my mother and tell her I was bisexual. Ironically, between the time she decided to tell my mother and my mother deciding to confront me, I was volunteering with an AIDS organization and after a volunteer event, found myself realizing that I had a crush on one of the girls in my training group. Hmm, guess I was bi after all. Unexpectedly, I answered yes to my mother when she asked me, between heavy hearted turbo puffs on her pall mall menthols, whether I was, in fact, bisexual. Mom grew silent at my very simple and to the point yes. Moments later she replied, "Just don't let your father or your brothers find out".
I spent 12 years as an identified Lesbian. I was active in the GLBT community, an interim board member at a GLBT non profit, hell, I even grand marshalled a pride parade one year. From Dyke Marches to production of events supporting women, women's masked wrestling to dive gym boxing, I was femme but I was fierce. I was gay.
Sexuality had always been an odd thing for me. As a young adult I dated and slept with boys, because that is what you do. I never had boy friends though. One technical one, I think. The others, they were friends that I happened to sleep with occassionally. I never felt a romantic swoon for any boys I met, other than the boys I knew in bands, but I would realize later that it was just awe and appreciation, not love and lust, that I was feeling.
At 17, a girl friend decided that our friendship wasn't shaping up the way she hoped. She grew jealous of my connections with other women and even though our relationship was platonic and we had discussed bisexuality and I admitted that I had never been attracted to women, she chose to call my mother and tell her I was bisexual. Ironically, between the time she decided to tell my mother and my mother deciding to confront me, I was volunteering with an AIDS organization and after a volunteer event, found myself realizing that I had a crush on one of the girls in my training group. Hmm, guess I was bi after all. Unexpectedly, I answered yes to my mother when she asked me, between heavy hearted turbo puffs on her pall mall menthols, whether I was, in fact, bisexual. Mom grew silent at my very simple and to the point yes. Moments later she replied, "Just don't let your father or your brothers find out".
